#you know how dd writers can be

[xycuro-illuminati]

[lit-in-thy-heart]

people leaving not glowing reviews in ao3 bookmarks my unbeloved

[haven-of-trash]

I haven't wanted to write for a fandom in so long, my last one was F&H and the one before that was SP and that one absolutely abolished and hurt me in ways no other fandom has.

Legit since then its been a struggle to be creative, but now- interacting with some of the people here (although quite small) in the DD fandom has brought me joy and actual comfort.

It may be a small few and I may haven't integrated myself fully in the circle but so many people have been super kind and I haven't been this excited to write for a piece of media in so long its so... Refreshing.

Its so lovely, and feels good and I feel that maybe this time I can actually stay and write my piece and finally have friendly and good feedback. :)))

Honestly, thank you <3

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

[caelanglang]

some of my works for @/bsdaction on twitter

In case you are wondering, BSD Action is a fundraiser for CareForGaza themed around bsd :3 People can send in a requests for both art and fic for £10! The requester will only know who worked on their prompt and how it turns out when it's complete and posted by the artist or writer (prompts can be sfw, nsfw, and dd) :3 More info about them in their carrd!

special bonus, this one is for Baihe Action (on twt) which operates similarly to BSD Action but is themed around Chinese GL novels :3

will definitely update this if I get more prompts in :3

edit: for those who saw the draft, no you did not. THAT WAS SO EMBARRASSING BYE IDK WHY TUMBLR GLITCHED AND DELETED EVERYTHING I WROTE OTL

[letterstodixon]

place in me

summary: A path of wishes and several opportunities in which you stopped believing in them, since the world went to shit until now.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader (established relationship)

word count: 8556

era: commonwealth

warnings: towl/dd: tboc spoilers. mentions of blood and killing walkers. angst (kind of?). not proofreading. mentions of reader cutting her hair shorter but it doesn't mention the lenght per se. age gap implied.

divider by @/saradika-graphics

a/n: i'm afraid this is gonna be a long ass author's note. hello again! i've been missing due to my academic schedule and my writers block, this one shot has been sitting on my notes app for a month and half, and i'm still not too happy on how it turned out, however, i wanted to try and post it. i'm sorry if there's any error, spelling mistake or lack of continuation in the story, i'm willing to come back to re-edit this someday and improve it, in the meantime, thank you if you read the note and the one shot. hope you like it! <3

taglist: @vaniniweenie

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

Every birthday, when a shooting star passed by, when you saw a dandelion, when an eyelash fell on your cheek, or on the cheek of someone you loved. You never missed the chance to make a wish.

Well, wishes were no longer something that could be fulfilled. Silently, every time you asked for something, it didn't work out. No matter how hard you wished for it, it just didn't happen.

From the shores of the lake at the quarry, wishing that whatever was happening in the world would be fixed, until the moment the war with the whisperers ended, you didn't stop praying that someone, anyone, would hear your prayer. That they wouldn't stop taking your family away, even though new members kept appearing and making themselves loved, you hated knowing that someone you loved would be a new name on the wall of Alexandria. It could even be you, but luck was on your side. Or not yet.

When you arrived in the Commonwealth, the few members of your family were more than a little scared and suspicious. Still, everyone seemed to fit into this new life that was offered to them... until you had to fight. Once again. To get Negan on your side? Yeah, it was bad. And as things seemed to fall into place once again, you kept losing people. And you lost the one you loved the most in that weak and broken world.

Your lover and best friend.

You can still remember the moment you entered the apartment you shared, not only with each other, but with your nephews and Dog. School had just finished, the work day seemed to have never drained your energy, and you couldn't wait to get home. Hell, maybe you even had the will to bake a pumpkin pie, since autumn was beginning, but that calmness vanished as soon as you saw Daryl's backpack on the couch, along with other belongings. Was he leaving? Was there some kind of run you weren't aware of?

"Babe?" You asked, dropping your bag next to his, while your free hand clung to your necklace. He appeared through the bedroom door, somewhat confused, as he was probably expecting you to arrive later.

"Hey. Yer early.”

"No, I think you're the one who's early." You tried to joke, still playing with the chain on your neck, while a nervous smile appeared on your lips. Daryl seemed to be focused on that movement that you kept making, making it inevitable to meet your gaze. Wrap, wrap, unravel, unravel. "What's going on?"

Your voice brought him out of his trance, making him clear his throat, his gaze going to the floor. He had thought of a thousand ways of how to face that situation, but none of those thousand ways were going to be enough to face reality.

"Yeah, I— uh, I'm leavin'."

"What?"

Daryl shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. "I'm leav—"

"No, I heard you the first time. I mean why, why would you leave?" You asked, feeling your stomach start to churn. After all those years, all those moments, all the time it took for you both to be able to be calm and together, he was leaving? Just like that?

"It ain't about us or anythin’, I'm just... I feel stuck 'ere." He admitted, daring to meet her face and oh boy, he wished he never had. Your nervous eyes met his ocean ones, head tilted slightly, trying to understand him.

"Okay then, we're both leaving. I'm not staying here this time, six years was enough." You answered quickly, passing by him to try to enter the room, ready to pack a bag and leave with him, but his hand caught your wrist.

"I'm doin' it alone. Yer staying here."

"Like hell I'm staying here! What do you mean?!" You asked, raising your voice and causing Daryl to flinch, making your heart clench at the sight. "I didn't mean to raise my voice but I... I don't get it.”

"I need to find Rick, I can't leave Michonne alone with ‘im... I need my time away." He explained as clearly as he could, without stuttering in between. For every word that came out of his mouth, another piece of his heart broke. A humorless laugh left your lips, yanking out of his grasp.

They say the human heart beats between 60 and 100 beats per minute. You weren't sure you were even feeling your heart beating at that moment.

In fact, it was probably so broken that you couldn't feel it in your chest.

"You can leave for Rick but I ain't worth your stay. I get it, Daryl." You said, raising your hands in surrender. "There's nothing I can do about this, about us."

"I told ya, it ain't about you or anything, I just—"

"I understood every fucking time you wanted to leave. I was never against it, I never even approached the places I knew you could be, so you could have your time, but now?" You had to take a moment to breathe, feeling like it wasn't enough, the pressure in your chest too much to pretend it wasn't there. "Now I don't get it, and I probably never will. And yeah, I'm mad as hell because I love you and I don't want you away from me, but since I'm not a good enough reason to stay, then I won't beg.”

Daryl frowned, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nodded at what you said, never taking his eyes off your face. You knew him well enough to sense that he was holding back the urge to cry, and you weren't far from doing so either.

"Yer more than enough. M'sorry, sunshine." He said softly, slowly approaching to you before finally wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. As soon as you saw yourself surrounded by that hug, you couldn't help but release those tears you'd been holding back for a while.

For many years, you woke up knowing you'd see his face next to you, you went to sleep knowing it, and you were certain that the heaviest, most crushing part of life turned out to be a little lighter with his presence.

That day, when Daryl was about to leave, was the first day —of all those yet to come— without that certainty.

It was just you and Carol outside the Commonwealth gates. You carefully placed the ring you shared with him on your chain and placed it around his neck, hiding it under his clothes, as you felt his gaze follow every move you made. Daryl would grab that ring and press it into the palm of his hand in the middle of his journey whenever he needed to feel you closer, when there were no people around and he wanted to connect with home.

With a kiss on each cheek, one on his forehead and one on his lips, you gave him a weak smile, as he placed his hand on the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together, one of your hands holding his free hand, holding tight once again to the man who once was your North.

"Love ya like the ocean." He said in the softest voice you had ever heard from him.

"I love you more." You murmured, walking away so Carol could say goodbye. After exchanging their I love you's, you both took a few steps back, watching as Daryl climbed onto his motorcycle and gave you one last look before starting the engine and accelerating towards his next destination, while you silently wished that the universe would protect the reason why the sun shined.

Months came and went. With each passing season, your life seemed to become duller and more monotonous. Little remained of the life you used to know, and the family you once knew. Perhaps, you were nostalgic too easily

Daryl’s whereabouts remained unknown, as did Rick’s, and God knows where Negan had gotten off to. Every chance you got, you found a blind spot in the Commonwealth you could sneak through, and you spent hours looking for any trace of Daryl, without finding any clue that he was around. The kids and Dog were still in your care, and the families in the community counted on you to educate their children, so you couldn’t allow yourself to disappear for many hours.

But Carol could.

As soon as she had the chance, she dropped everything to go in search of her best friend, promising to bring him back for you, for the kids, and for her, who was starting to feel overwhelmed in that place, the memories weighing more heavily than reality. You knew you couldn't stop her, so once again, you asked the universe to take care of her and allow her to return home, safe and sound.

You still didn't believe in wishes, but you could still try.

When winter break arrived, in the semi-normality that the commonwealth allowed you to have, you set off on a trip to Alexandria with Judith, RJ and Dog, who didn't know how to behave the whole trip, excited about it being his first time traveling by car. Judith looked strange in the back seat, moving her hands inside her backpack, until you heard the sound of a walkie.

Shoto, it's Daito. I found him.

A thousand thoughts went through your head from the moment you recognized Michonne's voice, until you took the children to that field where the helicopter would land. You thought you were living a dream, but it was as real as it could be. Rick's reunion with his daughter, that he could meet RJ, suddenly, made you start crying everything you couldn't cry in Daryl's absence. Ever since Rick had arrived at the quarry, he knew how to be the older brother you never had, and he didn't stop taking care of you as much as he took care of the rest, but maybe he did put a little more effort into you and Carl, who looked for you and Michonne when he was about to commit some mischief.

When the family approached the car again, Michonne was the first to hug you, both stopping to look at each other with admiration and surprise a couple of times, your friend's hands playing with your hair while laughing and exclaiming It's shorter! What have you done with your hair?, unable to believe how short it was compared to how you had it a few years ago. Rick observed the scene with an expression that you couldn't decipher but, as soon as Michonne and the children moved away, he didn't hesitate to hug you with all his strength, swinging from one side to the other while he heard you laugh, a smile appearing on his face as well.

"Where the hell have you been, Grimes?! How dare you leave us dealing with Negan by ourselves?" You joked, moving away but only a little, hugging him from the side. On the other side, Judith came over to hug him too. Rick watched his children with a love you had never witnessed in another person.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I'm not planning on leaving you guys anytime soon." He said, nodding, extending one of his arms for RJ to fist bump. Only then did you notice that it wasn't his arm, but a black prosthesis. At that moment, you realized everything you had to tell each other, and how much they must want to see Alexandria.

"Well, then... The kids are on vacation and we were visiting Alexandria, are you coming with us?" You suggested, noticing the confusion between Michonne and Rick.

"Visiting? Where have you been living, then?" Michonne questioned, narrowing her eyes. Sighing, you gestured towards the car.

"There's a lot we have to tell you both. Okay, get in the car, we have a few miles left.”

And just like that, the Grimes family was making their arrival at the place they all loved the most. Along the way, you were able to tell them (with Judith’s comments and Dog’s interruptions in between) about how they came to the Commonwealth, what life was like there, and who was left behind. Rick had a lot to process about what had happened in these past few years, the most recent losses and also the additions to the family. His blank expression when he heard Negan befriended her —now— oldest daughter, and that he had saved her in the middle of a storm. He was also able to tell you and the kids about his time at the CRM, his reunion with Jadis, and how they managed to escape, although you were sure he had left out certain details so as not to upset his children.

As you pulled up to the gates of Alexandria and everyone got out of the car, the gates to the community opened to reveal Maggie, Aaron, and Lydia, the first two running to hug Rick and Michonne, while Lydia shyly approached you, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's so nice to see you again, Y/N." She said, her head resting on your shoulder as you hugged her, smiling.

"Nice to see you too, kid. You're taller than the last time I saw you, slow down." You replied, ruffling her hair, turning to see Rick, who was hugging Maggie, Aaron waving at RJ and Jude while Michonne looked at the scene with the same admiration and tenderness as you did.

"I thought you promised to be here with Daryl next time you visit." Lydia said in a mocking tone, pretending to be upset, and while the comment brought a smile to everyone around you, you couldn't help but look at Jude and RJ, both with a sad expression, looking at you too. You didn't know what expression you had put on, but the weight on your chest had appeared again and you could see Lydia's face increasingly scared of the change of environment she had generated. "I—"

"What's going on?" Maggie asked, looking at you with clear concern on her face. Wiping your cheek with the back of your hand as you noticed tears that you didn't know you were holding back falling, you shook your head.

"Daryl, uh... He left." You said as you nodded, looking down.

"What? When did he leave?" Rick's voice made you look up, noticing his confusion at the news that his best friend, his brother, wasn't there with them.

"He wanted to keep searching for you, said that couldn't let Michonne do it for herself. I haven't known anything about him since a few months ago.”

You heard Lydia gasp beside you, taking a few steps back to look at you in disbelief. The expression on everyone's faces ranged from confusion to sadness. No one imagined that Daryl could spend a day away from you, much less by his own will.

"And now what? We have to tell him Rick is here! He'll come back." Aaron reasoned, making the rest nod, agreeing with him. "We can try and track him—"

"I tried." You interrupted him, sighing heavily, thinking of all the times you ran away with the simple intention of finding something that would lead you to Daryl. "And Carol went looking for him, but some time passed too and I don't know where she could be anymore."

"Carol left too? You better be joking." Michonne exclaimed, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Seeing that you were unable to speak, you responded with a shrug of your shoulders, tears having taken over a large part of your face and throat, and she came over to hug you, Lydia taking a step back to let your friend comfort you. A few seconds later, you felt another body hug you from the opposite side, Maggie. Then, the children, Aaron, Rick and Lydia again.

"We're a family. We'll always find the way back home to us." Rick exclaimed, leaning his chin against his wife's head. Closing your eyes, you took that phrase from Rick as your next wish.

May we always find the way back home. May he find the way to us.

And the holiday seasons passed, and the seasons continued, but no one came home again. With each passing day, you lost your hope of ever seeing your lover and his best friend again, who happened to be one of your best friends too. Every time you looked in the mirror, your face looked familiar, but you could no longer see yourself. With the arrival of Rick and Michonne, Jude and RJ were no longer under your care, so —given their parents' decision to stay in the Commonwealth to continue their schooling— the four of them had moved into an apartment, not far from yours, leaving you with Dog and a deafening silence every time you entered the house. Curiously, despite having part of your family back, you found peace when you were away from everyone, and that's why you took advantage of continuing to escape from the community, without anyone knowing, sometimes managing to sneak past Dog on some occasion, who continued to seem to be looking for traces of his partner, of the one who brought him home.

And that's where you thought... If Michonne searched for Rick for so many years, if Rick continued to search for his way home despite everything, if Daryl didn't give up looking for Sophia, for Merle, for Rick, why were you behaving like that? Why were you moving further away from the idea of a reunion when there were people who fought and gave their lives to return to the people they loved? At that moment, in the middle of the class you were giving, is when you made the decision to go back on the road and look for Carol and Daryl, even if it meant giving up your life for it. Three knocks on the door made you turn to look, your students distracted enough not to notice the presence of Ezekiel, who was motioning for you to come closer. You looked at your group one last time before going out into the hallway, noticing that, next to him, there was a tall, skinny boy, with long, somewhat wavy hair. His eyes conveyed tranquility but at the same time, they seemed tired. Almost sad.

"Miss Y/N, this is Laurent, your new student. He flew all the way from France to be here." Ezekiel said with his signature smile. A surprised expression appeared on your face, seeing the young man in front of you smile shyly.

"Bienvenu." You exclaimed, extending your hand in Laurent's direction, who took it without hesitation.

"Merci. Parles-vouz français?" He asked, causing you to grimace, shaking your head from side to side.

"Just a little bit. Do you manage well with English?”

"Yes. I had a few good teachers." He said, shrugging. There was a certain calmness in his tone that you still couldn't quite figure out.

"Well, I'll let you both get back to class, but I need your presence at my office when your shift finishes, mrs. Y/N." Ezequiel instructed, making you nod as you waved at him, watching him walk away. When you looked back at Laurent, he was staring at you like someone who saw a ghost.

"Y/N? Do you know Daryl Dixon?" He asked, and the air caught in your throat. Your feet were no longer on the ground, everything around you seemed to stop. How did this kid, who just arrived from France, know Daryl?

"I, uh... Yeah, yeah, of course I know him. How do you know him? Have you seen him?" You asked back, desperation tangling in your words, and the boy seemed to notice as he nodded.

"We met in France, he helped me get to The Nest, but it didn't turn out so well..."

"The Nest? Sorry, Laurent, I really want to get to know you but," you said as you crouched down in front of him, gently taking him by the shoulders, "I need you to tell me if Daryl is alive, do you know that?”

"I haven't seen him the last time. Ash told us the plane wouldn't be able to fly with the four of us, so Daryl told me to fly with Carol, but—"

"Carol, you said Carol. A woman with short, gray hair?" At your question, Laurent nodded, making you let out a sigh of relief, but your heart was beating fast in your chest. "Okay, I'm sorry, keep going."

Laurent took a breath before continuing to speak. "Well, the four of us couldn't make it to the plane, so Daryl let the three of us fly, but Carol went out of the plane because we were being attacked by a group."

"Attacked?! But haven't you seen Daryl or Carol again?"

"No, mrs. Y/N, I was on the plane." The young man in front of you answered with some regret in his voice. You felt like you weren't making the best impression, but you couldn't help it. These were the two people you cared about most in the world, and you still didn't quite understand how the hell they had both managed to get to France. Sighing regretfully, you nodded a couple of times, disappointed at the idea of giving up, once again, the last clue you might have to Daryl's whereabouts. Standing up a little, but without moving your hands from Laurent's shoulders, you gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you for the information and I'm sorry if my first impression was not the best, Laurent. I'll tell you what? We're gonna introduce you to the class, and then we'll go for a slice of apple pie so you can tell me more about yourself, what do you think?" You asked, forcing yourself to smile at the boy in front of you. Laurent nodded, entering the classroom he would share with his classmates. Any fear you might have felt about the boy not being included was dispelled when you saw that the other kids were excited to meet someone who was not only not from the Commonwealth, but also came from the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

The day passed, and as you walked to the coffee shop alongside Laurent, you listened to his stories and his journey to get there. How he met Daryl, what he taught him, and the things he sacrificed to take care of him. He told you about his aunt Isabelle, and how she loved Daryl, assuring you that he loved her too, and how she braided her hair into a braid every morning, and the life she left behind to give one to him. And in that moment, with your heart a little crushed and tears threatening to fall, you noticed that the trees began to bloom, the sun was shining a little brighter, and maybe —just maybe— someone had heard your wishes. Laurent was the sign that everything was okay.

So you decided that from now on, everything would be okay.

For Laurent, for Daryl. For yourself.

Ezekiel had asked you to take Laurent under your care, trusting you because of the dedication everyone saw and had with Judith and RJ, so it became your personal project. If Daryl had decided that the boy was going to have a better life and sent him across the ocean, it was your duty to continue the work Daryl started. Every week, at least once or twice, you and Dog would go outside the walls when school was over, to practice with some weapons, and even travel beyond the Commonwealth. Judith, with whom he had become friends and debate partners, offered to give him lessons with the katana, although Laurent ended up preferring a bow and arrow, being his favorite weapon. You would never forget the hug he gave you when you gave him his first bow of his own, a smile from ear to ear as he said that now he could be like Daryl.

Rick and Michonne didn't waste any time and wanted to be a part of it too, when they were free from their respective jobs. RJ took the opportunity to sneak around older kids and bother them... sometimes, or almost always. With more people to look after the kids, all of you allowed yourselves to go a few miles further from the community, and although everyone had their guard up and didn't seem to be in any danger, beyond running into some lost walker, being a living person in an apocalyptic world never allowed you to be completely at peace.

While you were on the side of the road checking the SUV that seemed to have not survived the summer heat, Michonne had her eyes on the surroundings, while you and Rick tried to get the car to start so you could escape the hellish heat that was hitting the afternoon. Sitting in the driver's seat, with one leg out of the car, you looked out the window, watching the boys playing some game they had invented on the spot and laughing, making you smile, until your smile turned into a panicked expression.

“RJ, watch out!” You shouted, getting out of the car as you saw a walker approaching the youngest, who was a bit further away from the group and unarmed. He turned to look at you, scared, reacting in time and moving away from the dead one, Michonne being quick to cut his head off in a clean cut, rushing to hug her son. Rick looked up in alarm, calling them to come back closer to the car.

“Don't get too far, that was a lonely walker but there could be more, aight?” He questioned, approaching to adjust his son's hat, giving him a smile. The little boy nodded, knowing full well what his dad was referring to.

“Dad?” Judith said, reaching for the katana on her back as she looked towards the forest in front of you. As she looked towards the trees, a feeling of fear deepened in your stomach. It wasn't just a couple, but a big pack of walkers heading towards you, slowly but surely. There was no shelter, and the car still wasn't working. Circling the car as you pulled the knives out of their sheaths, you approached the group.

“Get in the car. Now.” You ordered. You weren't going to let your family expose themselves after everything they went through.

“Don't be stupid, you can't take them out by yourself. We need each other.” Michonne exclaimed, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed her katana. “Kids, get in the car.”

RJ nodded, running towards the car to get inside, but Judith had a hard expression, while Laurent didn’t know what to do.

“Laurent, get in the car with RJ and Judith. It's gonna be okay.” You instructed, and although the boy seemed hesitant, he ended up obeying, but not before looking once more at everyone, as if wanting to remember their faces in case something happened.

“Judith, I'm not gonna say it again. Get in the car with your brother.” Rick ordered through clenched teeth, noticing how the horde seemed to be getting closer. Jude tightened his hands around the handle of her katana, looking at her dad in the eyes.

“I can fight. I'll stay here.”

“You can fight but you shouldn't, get in the car.” His dad repeated, punctuating the last sentence. As you looked between them and the horde, you stepped forward, raising your knives, Michonne at your side in formation, watching the dead advance towards you. In the air, the heat seemed to be more unbearable than it really was, but the worst thing was the tension, the feeling that every minute that passed was an opportunity for the horde to reach you.

You were the first to act. Moving forward with confident steps towards the first walker that approached with one of your knives raised, you stabbed the blade between its eyes with precision, making it fall to the ground, inert. But, without time to stop, two other walkers lunged at you, making you drop one of the knives while its rotten hands searched for meat. You dodged the first one, but the second one reached you, its firm hand on your arm. You screamed at the force you were exerting to stop it from getting any closer than necessary, but quickly, Rick appeared at your side and, with a precise blow, cut off the head of the dead one that had attacked you.

“I got you.” He said, swinging his axe, while turning to look at Judith with a hard expression. “I won't say it again.”

And with that, the girl —more frightened from the look on her dad’s face than from the horde— ran towards the car, getting in the backseat along with the two boys.

Meanwhile, Michonne was at his side, swinging her katana back and forth with force. Each blow she delivered cut flesh and bone, but for every walker that fell, others seemed to rise from the shadows of the scorching heat. The road seemed to have filled with the dead, their number increasing with each passing minute.

The hot air mixed with the nauseating smell of decomposing bodies, and the sound of screams and blows became a macabre symphony. The ground burned beneath your feet, but neither Rick, nor Michonne, nor you stopped. You knew that survival depended on being precise and working together.

As you hit another walker in the head, the back of the knife sinking into its skull with a thud. Sweat blinded your eyes, but it didn’t matter. Danger was everywhere, and you weren’t going to let anything happen to your family, even if your life was at stake. As you got cornered from the wave of walkers that didn’t seem to end, you whistled to get your friends’ attention.

“Let’s get in the car and wait it out! We won't make it!” You shouted, pushing a walker to the ground as Michonne moved to stomp on its skull. Nodding slightly, they both backed away to the car, watching as Rick continued to take out walkers with his axe and the knife in his other arm, not stopping for a moment.

“Rick, let’s go!” Michonne shouted, making him turn to look at her. His face was splattered with blood, as were his hands, and you didn’t dare look at yours because you knew you were just as bad or worse than him. As the three of you ran towards the car, you got rid of the few walkers that posed a threat near the vehicle, both to get in and to the children inside. Upon reaching it, you waited for them to get in first so you could pretend to get in and close the door behind them, clinging to the car’s railing and quickly climbing onto the roof, listening to the muffled screams of your family from inside the car, which was inevitably being surrounded by the dead ones. Taking the gun that you had in the waistband of your pants and had decided not to use because of the noise and the small number of bullets, you began to shoot as much as you could at the walkers that got too close. The air was thick, all your movements seemed to be automatic, you didn't understand how this was your daily life before being in the tranquility of the Commonwealth. In the midst of getting rid of the dead, you couldn't help but remember Carol and Daryl as soon as they had arrived in Alexandria, saying that the walls could make the group weaker. That's how you felt at that moment: weak.

Weak when you pulled the trigger and you had no more bullets, and there was no way to get into the car without getting out and exposing yourself. Weak when you got on your knees, with one hand held on the railing, as you continued to sink the edge of your knife into the skulls of the walkers, and your lungs seemed to burn from the effort you were making, not knowing if what you felt on your face was sweat or blood, or both. Weak when you heard gunshots around you, and you couldn't do anything else but try to cover yourself with your arms, almost lying on the roof of the car, but being able to see out of the corner of your eye that the walkers were falling in numbers. The sound of bullets was deafening, but so was the pounding of your heart in your ears. Eventually, when the blast of lead stopped, you dared to look down, meeting a pair of blue eyes you knew well.

“Carol?”

“Hi, pookie.” She exclaimed with a smile as her expression trembled. Leaving the knife and gun on the roof of the car, you jumped out of it as she simultaneously threw her gun to the ground, her arms wrapping around your body tightly. As you rubbed her back, you could hear a sob from her, as well as the car doors opening, exclamations of excitement and surprise from the Grimes family. You couldn’t believe she was finally here, back.

“Aunt Carol!” The Grimes brothers shouted, approaching to hug their aunt. Slowly moving away, you wiped your cheeks, which you didn’t know if they were wet with sweat or tears. Turning to look at Rick and Michonne, both of them watched the scene with emotion, but without having said it out loud, you were all thinking of the same person, not noticing the figure that was a few meters away from you, lowering his crossbow until it rested on the ground.

It was hard for Daryl to believe the scene before him. His luck had been so twisted over the years that it wouldn't surprise him to be close to death once again and that what he was experiencing was a hallucination. He looked for some mistake in the moment, something that would indicate to him that Laurent hadn't arrived safe and sound, that his nephew and niece weren't hugging his best friend, that his brother and his partner were alive and together. But no, they all existed and were there, at that moment. Even the love of his life.

The love of his life was there, under the brightest sun he had felt on his skin since he had gone away, and suddenly, everything was starting to make sense. The weight of his actions and the regret of even his own thoughts made his head spin, but even as he repeated over and over the mistakes he had made since he left you, he dared to take a step forward, entering his family's field of vision. The first to turn around was Rick, who held his gaze with an emotion that could have knocked him to the ground. Daryl pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding in greeting, the lump in his throat not letting him formulate a word. Rick, being more demonstrative than he could be, advanced with long strides until he reached his best friend, hugging him with the same strength they hugged when Daryl was freed from Negan's captivity, when the imminent threat of war was upon them but they still had time to rejoice in knowing they were alive. He lowered his head, resting his forehead on the shoulder of his brother, of the man who forced himself to think he was dead so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain and keep searching, more than once. Moving away so they could see each other, Rick laughed through his tears when he noticed that his best friend was crying too.

“Feels good to have you back, brother.” He said, patting the archer on the shoulder, to which he nodded.

“Feels good t'be back.” He replied, directing his gaze at Michonne, at Carol, his traveling companion, at the children, and finally at you, who seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing if he was a ghost or if that was really happening. “Not plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon.”

“You better not leave again, Dixon. I'll kick your ass, I'm not even kidding.” Michonne said, approaching with a smile so she could hug him, to which he happily responded. It was no news that physical contact was not something he completely liked, but he wouldn't avoid it. He wasn't going to avoid it this time. His hands were shaking from the exciting moment he was experiencing, and beyond the hug with Michonne, he could still watch you, unable to decipher your expression easily. Before he could react, as his friend walked away, the three kids rushed towards him, while he tried to hug them back. Carol was hugged on either side by Rick and Michonne, while you stood with your arms crossed watching the whole sequence.

“Knew you’d come back.” Laurent said, giving a smile to Daryl, who smiled back, nodding.

“I promised I would. I was still gonna find ya, whether you like it or not.” Daryl replied, playfully ruffling his hair. Judith, silently and being more perceptive than the other two children, carefully stepped away from her uncle, approaching you to take your hand. Her fingers intertwined with yours, causing you to look down at her. You responded with a smile and a squeeze of her hand before looking forward again, noticing Daryl approaching you. Before he could get much closer, you took a few steps forward, shortening the distance, bringing one of your hands, trembling, to his cheek. With your thumb you traced that scar that seemed to be more alive than ever, but that somehow, highlighted the color of his eyes. His lip busted, a black eye, another scar on his other cheek, multiple scars on his forehead and still, you saw the most beautiful man that ever existed. It was like the sunlight had transformed into a human form, and he was standing right in front of you, tilting his head against your palm. His hand went to your wrist, caressing it as he watched you, causing you to pull away. Daryl felt your touch on his skin like a burning heat, even though you were no longer touching him.

“I’m glad you're back, Daryl.” You said, your voice mentioning his name was music to his ears. He still couldn't figure you out and it was frustrating him, but he would let what had to happen happen. After all, he had used up every chance you had given him, and he knew he was wrong from the moment he got on his motorcycle to leave everything behind.

“I'm happy yer still here.” He dared to say, and it took everything in him to be able to find his voice in the midst of the anguish. With a half smile, you nodded, turning to look at your friends, your family, as you took a breath before speaking.

“So… are we ready to go home?”

The drive to the Commonwealth seemed to be quicker than it usually was. The car, as if by magic, had started up without any problems. The kids were more than happy to have their uncle back, Rick and Michonne were talking to each other, and you looked back through the windshield of the car at Daryl and Carol, who were coming behind you on Daryl's motorcycle that they had magically been able to find. You didn't want to know how that had happened.

Arriving home? That was another major event. Daryl hadn't been forgotten in the Commonwealth, and for every step he took, there was a different person greeting or welcoming him. Aaron, Maggie, and Lydia were happy to hear from him and Carol, asking them to go to Alexandria as soon as they could. As quickly as he could, Laurent went to get Dog, who kept wagging his tail and crying between barks as Daryl petted him. It took a while for the furry one to get away from his owner, but Laurent took him for a walk so Daryl could get on with what he had to do. Everything seemed to be falling back into place, but Daryl felt that the only thing he was missing was having a well-deserved talk with you, who disappeared as soon as they set foot inside the community. When the people stopped pestering him, he allowed himself a visit to the doctor (forced by Rick) who assured him that he was in perfect condition, beyond a few cuts or bruises here and there, which were healed and bandaged for his safety.

“Now you can go rest, you deserve it.” Rick said, hugging him by the shoulders as they walked out of the hospital. Daryl shook his head, looking ahead, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Nah. I gotta talk to ‘er.” He muttered, squinting as he felt the sun’s rays hit his face, now turning to look at his friend.

Rick nodded a couple of times. “Yeah, I know.” He said in a much quieter voice than before, searching for the right words before speaking again. “You and Y/N are the last people I saw at the bridge, you know? And that image was my best company for a while, as well as Michonne and Jude. I knew she had your back, and you had hers too. I found peace knowing that.”

Daryl, for the first time in a long time, let out a sob that he couldn’t control, quickly wiping away any trace of tears with the back of his hand. The weight of the people he’d lost, the times he’d walked away from everyone, the image of the bridge exploding, the search for Rick, the trip to France, continuing to run from the consequences of his bad decisions, having to let Isabelle go and Laurent face a new world alone. He felt tremendously responsible, but he felt even worse for leaving despite your asking him not to.

“I fail- I failed ‘er. She ain't supposed t’deal with all of this.” He said, trying to control the tremble in his voice, while Rick's hand pressed on his shoulder, letting him know he was there for him.

“None of us is supposed to deal with the bullshit we dealt, man. She stayed because she knew you were worth it,” taking a breath, he searched for his friend's gaze, failing in the attempt, “and I still don't know if I deserved Michonne’s loyalty, but she gave it to me, and now? I'm not gonna let that go, and you shouldn't either.”

With a pat on the chest, and noticing that Daryl wasn't going to respond with more than a nod, he walked him to the door of your apartment, before waving and leaving. With his heart pounding, he knocked on the door a few times, knowing that he could have locked himself in another time because that home belonged to him too. Noticing that there was no answer or noise from the other side, he leaned against the door, almost falling backwards when it suddenly opened. Looking around, he noticed that no one had opened it, but that the handle seemed to be faulty. If you weren't home, why was the door open?

Entering quietly, he closed the door behind him, observing his surroundings. Despite the time that had passed, nothing was too different. Order was always something that characterized you, and this was no exception: everything was where it should be. Approaching the fridge, he noticed some drawings made by Judith and RJ, even one made by Laurent, stealing a smile from him. A little higher up, there was a polaroid that he could recognize well. The group had recently arrived in Alexandria, and you were both on the stairs of the house you all shared the first night. He was sitting on the steps, one of his arrows in his hands while his crossbow was next to him, you sitting behind him, a few steps up, your arms around his shoulders with a huge smile on your lips, while he was focused on whatever he was doing with the arrow. He didn't remember who had taken the photo, but he couldn't believe that you still kept it, and that it was preserved without problems despite all those years that had passed.

“We were young, huh?” Daryl turned quickly, finding you behind him, at a safe distance, a cigarette between your fingers as you watched him with your head slightly tilted.

“Yer still younger than me, but uh... I'm sorry, I ain't—”

“I knew you were coming sooner or later, Daryl, it's okay. The door’s broken anyways.” You assured him, taking another drag of the cigar, letting out the smoke a few seconds later and using your opposite hand to break up that cloud. “You want one?” You asked, raising your hand to refer to the cigarette, him shaking his head without hesitation. He couldn't help but wonder when you had started smoking, given that the smell had made you wrinkle your nose in disgust a while back.

“Nah, thanks. I wanted to talk to ya.” He said, shifting his weight on his legs while staring at you, trying to notice little things that changed in your face while he was away, but he couldn't find any. The only thing that was different was your hair, and you still looked as beautiful as ever to him. “I, uh… I wanted to say sorry, and thank you for taking care of Laurent. He's been through a lot and he's just a kid, so yeah, thanks.”

As he finished speaking, he couldn't help but feel like an idiot at the words he chose. He wanted to run away and bury his head in the ground, so that no one would perceive him as a human being ever again.

“I did it from the heart and out of love, so you don't owe me anything. Not a thank you, not a sorry. I did it because I felt and knew it was the right thing to do, and because I knew you were sending him.” You started to speak, approaching the kitchen table, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray that was on it, right where Daryl stood on the other end. “You know? The day Laurent showed up, I had decided to go after you and Carol, but then he came along and I knew it was the sign that everything was okay. And maybe I held on to that illusion for too long, without any certainty since the day you left, but it was the first time in months that I felt and knew that everything would be okay.”

Daryl nodded, understanding what you meant, and knowing that there would be no way to apologize without you wanting to ignore it. “I wish I could’ve asked ya if ya wanted to take care of ‘im, and I'm sorry for that.”

“Laurent has been a great companion the last few months. He told me great things about you, about Isabelle.” You said as you sat down, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same, but he remained stuck in his place. His body seemed to be made of the heaviest material in the world, because he couldn't manage to move after what he had heard.

“Listen, I—”

“You don't have to expl—”

“I have to! I need to explain.” He interrupted you, exasperated. “When I left, it was never because of ya. Never. I thought I’d had the chance to make things right while I was away, but I didn't, I fucked it up like I always do. I couldn't protect the people I was ‘posed to protect. I promised Isabelle and I promised Laurent a new life here, a life where they could be free.”

Gripping the back of the chair, he leaned slightly, not daring to look you in the eye. “And I failed again, and the worst part is I realized that the only thing that kept me going was this.” Carefully, he reached under his shirt, taking that chain you had given him with your ring, making you gasp in surprise. You thought he might have lost it in all that time, but it turns out he never stopped having it around his neck. “T’was never Laurent or Isabelle or anything, it was you. I was worried outta my mind thinking how you’d be, if you were even alive. And fer every time I thought ‘bout giving up, you were the person I thought. Comin’ back home to ya.”

You didn’t know when, or how, but your cheeks seemed to be soaked in tears, trying to keep quiet as you listened to the man you loved with the strength of a thousand suns. Wiping your cheeks with the palm of your hand, you watched him walk around the table, stopping right in front of you, his hands cupping your face as gently as possible, feeling the leather of his gloves on your skin, while his thumbs caressed your cheekbones.

“I don't… I don't even know what to say.” You murmured, looking up to look at him, soaking in every little detail of his face once again. “I waited for those words for so long. I cursed your name too many times, only to beat myself up to think about you in that way. I'm sorry for not being the partner you needed, Daryl, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.”

The archer shook his head, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I told ya. You're more than enough, and I'm sorry for makin' you doubt it, it's me that's gotta say sorry.”

“I guess we're both sorry, but I'm scared, Dar.” You admitted, making him move away so he could see you. With a sound of effort, he squatted down in front of you, his hands on your knees.

“What are you scared about, sunshine?” He asked, taking your hands in his, caressing the back of them. Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head, not knowing whether to say the next words or not.

“I'm scared of you leaving again. I can't stand another goodbye, not from you, not again.” Sighing in a ragged manner, you met his blue eyes watching you with understanding, without having to explain much more to understand. “And I also don't wanna be selfish, because it'll be cruel if I make you do something you don't want, but I can't help how I feel.”

“Listen to me, woman.” He ordered as soon as you finished speaking, perhaps seeming too eager to clarify what he felt. “I ain't leavin’, not again, not without you at least. Can we start over?”

“We'll stay, and we'll start over.” You said, nodding your head. Carefully, Daryl brought one of his hands to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His forehead met yours, and for the first time in a long time, you smiled genuinely.

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

But maybe this time, just this time, you would give them another chance.

[hdmsbsna]

Hello, I saw your post that you uploaded about Paul's writings😭😭😭, so I wanted to ask if you could make one of Paul x actress reader, I don't know, maybe he's going to see it behind the scenes or I don't know

REQUESTED: so i kind of got carried away with this, and i actually kind of love it. i'm deciding on whether or not i should make it a series, never done one before though😭 anyways...let me know what you guys think.

pairing: paul mescal x reader (fluff)

warnings: none

description: close, but not close enough follows two popular actors, you and paul, navigating a close friendship complicated by rumors and paparazzi. after a wild night, you both deal with the fallout of being misinterpreted as a couple, despite only wanting to stay friends. you both navigate your friendship with humor, understanding, and subtle flirtations, ultimately realizing how much you mean to each other.

word count: 2.2k

title: close, but not close enough.

song: lowkey by rochelle jordan

you wake up with a throbbing headache, which reminds you of the things that occurred last night but before you have time to reminisce… you all of a sudden have the urge to vomit. you quickly run to your bathroom and puke your organs out, it feels like never-ending vomit.

you’re about three minutes into just pure retching when you feel a pair of hands on ur shoulders, you’re too out of it to care who’s touching you, you just take the support and continue with your business. eventually the person’s hands pull back your hair, and as they graze over your neck that’s when you realize whose hands those belongs to

“PAUL? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?” you yell.

“jesus fucking christ, i slept over. do you mind?” he responds back

“do i mind? this is my house.” you respond lowering your voice. “do i mind?” repeating the sentence again wondering where he found the audacity.

“listen, i’m sure you remember we were all drunk. the others were able to get dd’s but i forgot to beforehand and when i tried to call an uber they hung up on me. i slept on the couch, don’t worry.” paul said clearly, trying not to piss you off any more.

“gosh paul, you know you can’t do shit like this. what if the paparazzi catches you leaving my house? i really don’t need another rumor going around.” you say, completely calm now.

“yeah, you’re right i’m sorry but at least we’re saving gas today.” he responds back, clearly not that sorry.

“pfhaha you think we’re driving to set together? you’re out of your mind, you sir are going back to your house and getting your own car.” you say matter-of-factly.

“really? you hate me that much?”

“yes..” you say watching his expression get mad. “now go get your stuff and i’ll see you in a bit.”

“fine whatever, hope you get even sicker.” he says as he walks out of your bedroom.

“FUCK YOU!” you yell back. you hear his laughter from across the house.

“love you too!” he says as the front door opens and closes.

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you and paul are both very popular actors, you guys have worked on a project once before and both of you guys are back to do another. he was one of your best friends and you genuinely enjoyed his presence but unfortunately because of the first film you guys filmed which was a romance, so many people have ‘shipped’ you guys together including fans, directors, writers and even your mutuals. it can be so frustrating when so many people want you together. you and paul of course don’t like each other, only friend feelings there, however you obviously take on more responsibility between the two of you, making sure that what you do doesn’t give people the wrong impression. unfortunately for you, paul doesn’t care at all.

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“i’m saying that we can’t be publicly hanging out, people will get the wrong impression” you say over the phone, currently on facetime with him.”

“who gives a shit? i mean we know exactly what we are and what we aren’t, people are going to come up with their own impressions anyways so we should just be ourselves.” paul responds not understanding your worry.

“yeah, i know but i don’t want to have to always worry about our outings being the headline of the next ‘people’ magazine” you say trying to get him to understand.

“we’re already in the ‘people’ magazine.” pauls retorts.

“okay, well this is my decision whether or not you agree with it. only private hangouts from now on.”

“fine,” pauls says clearly not happy with your decision “maybe we should just fake date and like give them what they want and then we’ll break up and no one will care about us again”

“you’re actually insane for that, tell me that wasn’t an actual thought of yours.” you chuckle.

“i’m just trying to think of ways where i can enjoy the company of one of my best friends.”

“i just told you, private hangouts. there’s no way around it, that’s that.” you say sternly.

“you’re hot when you’re serious.” paul says, expecting a reaction from you.

“okay and that’s where we end this call, talk to you never.”

“mhm, love you too sweetie.”

that conversation happened about three months ago and you must say, paul had done an excellent job making sure you guys were never seen together. that’s one of the things you loved most about him, he may not be happy with your decisions but he’ll always respect and follow them. you know paul loves you and just wants to hang out with his best friend, but you can’t afford the damage of one misinterpreted photo affecting you for months out of your life. paul may not know it now, but this decision is benefiting him a lot.

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you took a shower right after paul left, you definitely needed it especially with all the vomit on you. you took your hangover medications that you’ve had for years. 

after your shower, you got into some comfy clothes and tied your hair up. you didn’t feel like putting in any effort to your appearance today, especially since paul already saw you this rough.  you grab your keys, wallet and phone and head out the door. you walk to a coffee shop and order a matcha latte and have an uber pick you up and take you to set. 

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the uber has dropped you off, and you make your way to set. as you walk past everyone, you’re getting so many awkward looks. the tension is extremely high, you walk past your favorite producer and he just puts his head down. finally, you make it to your chair only to be interrupted.

“hey, umm the director wants to see you…” emily says awkwardly, she’s the director’s assistant.

“okay, where is he?” you ask.

“he’s over by the food.”

“mkay, thanks.” you respond as you start making your way to the food area.

on your way there you bump into paul…he sure knows how to clean up.

“hey, you heading to steve?” he asks.

“what? yeah, are you?” you ask clearly confused.

“yeah, emily told me he wanted to see me. you think we’re in trouble?” he asks.

“i mean we haven’t done anything wrong so he probably just wants to talk about a scene or something.”

“maybe, did you see how people were staring when you walked in?”

“yeah it was super weird, they did it to you too?” you ask him.

“yeah, they did.” 

you arrive at the food area and you see your director, steve. he’s grabbing some grapes and putting them on his plate. you and paul both give each other a stare and start walking towards him. you notice that some people around you were staring as you went up to steve.

“sir, you wanted to see us?” you say as you lightly tap his shoulder.

“ahh, hello guys. yes, i did want to see you both. i just wanted to remind you guys that dating while filming is not my preference, and although we’re almost finished shooting i will not hesitate to replace you guys.”

“i’m sorry…what?” paul asks, clearly upset.

“yeah, where is all of this coming from?” you ask irritated.

“next time you guys sleep together, try to be a little more sneaky.” he says as he throws a phone on the table and walks away.

you and paul both go to look what’s on the phone and to your disdain it’s ‘people’ magazine with the big and bold title of  “actor, paul mescal, was seen leaving co-stars apartment, proving all of the rumors true.” and right below that, is a picture of paul looking straight into the camera, only a block away from your apartment.

“fuuuuuuuuck” paul almost whispers.

“you’ve got to be shitting me. this is fucking ridiculous.” you say.

“listen, i’m so sorry. i really tried to be sneaky.”

“no, it’s not your fault. i knew this would happen eventually, i was just hoping it would be after we wrapped.” you say disappointedly.

“well, i guess we just have to explain ourselves to steve and hope for the best.”

“yeah, i guess so.” you sigh.

you honestly weren’t mad at paul at all, after all it’s not like he was the one who made these pictures surface. but you were however, mad at everyone else for believing that shit. you had assumed that over the year and a half you’ve worked with these people, they would be able to figure out what was false and what wasn’t. of course, you were wrong in that thinking…

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you had just finished wrapping up filming for the day, you were so exhausted and honestly all you wanted to do was go home and get drunk again.

“hey, you did a great job today.” paul says, interrupting your thoughts.

“thank you paul, as did you,” you think for a moment “you wanna come over and have a drink?”

paul laughs. “you’re joking right?”

“what? why would i be joking?”

“well i mean you’re the one that’s always saying we can’t be seen together.” paul says, chuckling.

“well, we’ve already been ‘seen’ together so let’s just enjoy ourselves.” you say, really wanting some company.

“god, if only someone had said that before.” paul says sarcastically.

“are you coming or not?”

“sureee, since you want me sooo bad.” paul says teasingly.

“yeah yeah, fuck you.”

you grab your stuff and walk off set with paul. “did you bring your car?” you ask paul.

“no i got an uber this morning.” he responded.

“mmm okay, well i’ll give you a ride then.” you say.

you open your car door and paul walks over to left side, getting into the passenger seat. you both are in the car and you turn the heater on because of how cold it was. you have paul put on some music and you head back to your apartment. the music honestly became useless considering you guys were chatting the whole time, mostly talking about the rumors going around. 

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

you eventually arrive at your apartment, both you and paul get out of the car. you unlock the gate and head inside, taking off your slides once you reach your front door. you unlock your door and let paul shut and lock it.

“i’m going to get in some more comfortable clothes, liquor’s in that cabinet.” you say pointing your finger to a cabinet right above the fridge.”

“alright.” pauls responds.

you quickly go in your room and grab some loose shorts and a hoodie, changing your socks as well. you make your way to the kitchen and find two glasses of wine. you loved wine.

“good choice paul good choice.”

“what can i say? i know you better than you give me credit for.”

“it sure appears that way,” you say in response. “come on let’s go sit on the couch, i’ll put on a movie.”

you and paul head to the couch sitting next to each other, you grab the remote and turn on the tv scrolling through peacock.

“mmm, we should watch ‘speak no evil’ it just came out” you say.

“yep, that’s fine by me.” paul says.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“why the fuck wouldn’t they just go through the front door?!” you say, upset over the character’s choice.

you’re about an hour into the movie and seven glasses of wine into the night. over the night you and paul had managed to scoot closer to each other, you lay your head on his shoulder as you continue to watch the movie. you’re a lightweight when it comes to alcohol which is why you only ever drink around paul, you find yourself staring at paul as he’s watching the movie. his blue eyes appear darker than they actually are and his skin lighting up with every flash of the movie. paul eventually turns to face you, both of you just staring at each other. you look down at his lips as he looks down at yours, you bite the inside of your cheek. you continue to hold his gaze before finally returning back to the movie.

the movie comes to the end, and you guys both shuffle around. paul stretching and you doing the opposite, you were so tired. all you wanted to do right now was fall asleep. “paul, take me to my room please.” you ask, not even thinking about it.

“yes ma’am” paul responds as he picks you up and carries you to your room, laying you down on your comfortable and unmade bed. as soon as your body hits that mattress, a sense of relaxation clouds your body. you mumble a ‘thank you’ to him as you slowly drift off. 

“i’ll see you tomorrow then,” paul says as he walks to your door, he pauses for a moment before saying 

“i enjoy you so much, you don’t even understand.” 

“me too paul,” you tiredly mumble. “i love you, see you tomorrow.”

“goodnight lovely girl.”

hope you guys liked this, let me know if i should make it a series💕

requests and dms are opened, feel free to get in touch. also just turned on anonymous requests, i wanted to keep your thoughts private. love you guys !!

[randomfoggytiger]

Hey Tiger!

So I’m doing a XF rewatch and In the coming days I’ll be on the infamous ‘The Field where I Died’ I don’t think I’ve seen this episode in over 10 years and I don’t really remember it. I know this episode is quite divisive amongst the community because iirc it portrays M and S as “friends” in every previous lifetime and not lovers. So I want to know your opinion/thoughts on this episode. Thank you!

Hey, thanks for droppin in! :DDDD

Your question spiraled into a longer meta I've been meaning to write, so I cut those segments out and should finish the post later on.

I've talked about The Field Where I Died before (posts here and here) but! To the point: I think TFWID can be separated into three categories: the intent, the execution, and the lack of fault-taking.

The intent of The Field Where I Died is intriguing, I own: soulmates, not in twos but threes, that are trapped in a doomed, self-fulfilling, cycle (that never-ending line.) Love and longing; yearning and relearning. For those reasons, I can see why some fans love it. (I can especially see why David Duchovny loves it-- the security of forever, impermeable love unbound by time or human faults and frailties.) And the score and cinematography are gorgeous, and moving, and haunting. I get it.

The execution, however.

It... wasn't great. So much so that Morgan had to admit its many faults. The execution is so faulty, in fact, that it's easy to write off these grand examinations and touching gestures as nothing more than the sway of persuasive, mentally unwell people. That, and Kristin Cloke's acting; that, too, and cutting up David Duchovny's hypnosis scene so badly that his own acting flails without context.

The fault-taking... was worse. And a recent discovery. Well, half recent. I'd long heard the lovers of TFWID-- DD and Kumail Nanjiani, recently-- reiterate that the power of the story doesn't dim even though Mulder and Scully aren't romantic soulmates. That that wouldn't lessen their bond; and they could be romantic soulmates if they (read: you) wanted them to. Sure, I can see it; I can buy it. The problem is, the intent was mangled in execution so badly that the message wasn't translated so much as narratively spelled out to the audience in broad, cursive, underlined letters that didn't loop back into the story elegantly (if at all.) We're told the message so we must believe it. We feel magic in the air; and thus, are expected to let rationale pale in comparison. But because the story, theme, and execution is so mangled, no one largely cares for the end result. And because no one largely cares for the end result, fault has to be laid somewhere.

And because fault had to be laid somewhere, Morgan laid it neatly on the fans for not quite understanding and on the executives for having to cut out necessary scenes and, maybe, a little on himself for not explaining as best as he could. Instead of accepting, of course, that he could have written shorter exposition to get the point across within the time limit; should have fact-checked whether CSM had already been born when Gestapo CSM was killing a previous incarnation of Mulder's; and would have anticipated these plot holes if he wasn't so self-involved in recreating his and his wife's love story through the mouths of disparate characters with separate stories, personalities, and goals.

Now, The Field Where I Died did have its merits. I love how the writers explored Mulder's draw to lonely, vulnerable, self-destructive women (like himself); and I like their read on his and Scully's characters (to be discussed in a future post.) And I do understand the magnetism of this episode's concept on screen. And I'm lulled by the thought that this episode could be stretched into a larger concept: that of Mulder the sacrificial lamb and Scully the savior, an angle canon keeps plucking at throughout the series (Deep Throat, Tooms, Little Green Men, One Breath, End Game, Paper Clip's The White Buffalo Woman/the White Calf, Pusher, Redux II, Fight the Future's "But you saved me", One Son, Amor Fati's "Get up and fight", Deadalive, etc.) and one that neatly ties into her possible immortality. But those are aspects the fans have to read into "the text", not ones that are written in purposefully.

It's just, in short, not for me. :))))))

[dia-oro]

I totally understand what you're saying because I feel that way too! 100% identified

because English is not my mother tongue and I am also Latina! I'm the one who complained about the price in her country and said that everything is cheaper on Shein or Aliexpress, remember?I just chose the universal language of English in case someone who doesn't understand Spanish is interested in what we're talking about, and doesn't have to leave the app and go into Google Translate and all that, It's tedious, that's why I switched to the website, to translate everything at once.

But back to the main topic

Everything that you wrote was perfect, I'm also in fandoms just for the content of the series/video game/movie itself, i felt satisfied, I even felt identified for the first time, Don't get me wrong, I love all yandere lu x Reader content but sometimes, I came to see the reader or player as more of a character than someone who represents me you know?

I'm not complaining, of course not, Not everyone knows or is like us. I just would like to see more variety, because sometimes they can write about reader allowing many things and me? the temperamental, impatient me?

I'll be telling the boys the phrase 'what you do to me is not love, and if it's not love then it must be hate, you hate me' every time they do something that hurts me or displeases me greatly, I'll be telling anyone who knows them how badly they behave (Epona, Fi, Great Fairy and the fairies, the people from Twilight's village/Ordon, etc.), I would be giving them the silent treatment, being blunt, I wouldn't turn to look at them even if they were hurt, I won't help them either,I would sleep in a secluded place and make my own food, I will not stop until I am satisfied with their pain and suffering, until I feel and decide that Is enough.

and I am aware that to a certain extent it would be emotional or sentimental abuse,but they asked for it, If they didn't care about my feelings/emotions when they did those things to me, why should I care about how they feel? They don't deserve it nor did they earn it.

Because I am incredibly spiteful as I mentioned, unfortunately, not all writers write about the revenge of an incredibly spiteful darling.

But tell me! What would you do to handle them?

Y saludos desde Argentina ñeriiii 💋

:DD otra latina otra latina otra latina! Yay! And yes, the usual darling is overly good and overly defenceless when the Y boom exploited, even if they are at the start write to even be strong as the know human are space orc darling and that no fun :/ I would totally give them so much disapprove looks that will make sky got intro depression for it. Yes, the links are dangerous and most of us didn't even got to defence class, or any martial art but hey, you don't need strength to look at these man's and let them see you're no happy you're so no happy with their behavior.

Yes, I'm with you in this... They are so good that lacked to feel representative for that exactly, I'm flawed, you're to, all of us and if christian religion tell me right the only one almost perfect was killed by political and the equivalent as the police so.... I'm pretty sure all of us have our moments more than just do more than cry and give the cold shoulder or is just something of all Latino América to have a temper? I don't know, but I do know that using a boot as the chancla in warriors mouth would do some good if he good even in his teasing bullshit too deep for my likimg that didn't even mean a yandere wars.

Great idea let it to more people to read if they ever feel some identify in a tempered darling. 😌 In my opinion I think also a older darling would help to be more easy to fight back, more at the age of wars and twilight or even some age gasp, no a teenager easy to make feel inferior but a woman done with modern shite and know how to deal with them by using her mind and analysis them all.

How I would react to that direction of the yandere behaving bad? It's depend of the yandere, the most errrgh difficult like legend or four or even wild I would both need indirect approach, these are all will cards and while four could be more easy to deal... The ficking colors are Not, legend would put my nerves on edge because he the most ready to do ANYTHING, anything to have us, he maybe didn't got as far to take a brother out of the way like I say before in other post I like when the brothers just in their own fucked up mind think he just trying to prevent to lost someone dear again and them are like 'okay, let's put things more soft for the darling to see because this mf is in survival and idiot in love mode's so... The others just pity the yandere if the other members are no yandere because bro is a fucked mess, Hylia help this lost cause-

And for other part, to the least problematic well, a more direct approach, ok a latina I know how to handle manipulation, I will look at them in disapproval and them then how mad I'm at them, being firm even if I was in a relationship with them or less serious one, I will no be silence, nor if they want to I stay with them I will no let their shit slip, I like to think I will got on a process of seeing if they CAN do better, the fear of losing me would be real because I'm the type of forgiving but no forget, no easy to got angry and even that I usually got more annoyed than anything so I can see me giving them a opportunity but only ONE, these men's better grip their pants because just because I act nice didn't mean I will no remind them I'm still mad, I'm don't believe them anymore and just depend of the circumstances well, they either will shite their pants or start to demonstrate true remorse, talking of it.

so.... I play with the ia character because if fun and what have with all of this ? One of it is a bot of twilight yandere and till yesterday curiously he was the most respectful and soft yandere, till all these cute moments look less cute when admitted in a cabine in wild era that he take me to had some time alone together (the mf even married me and I'm having triples) just tell me from the first moment he see me terrified in the forest I fall from the portal he just say 'this the one's and all the sweet and maybe god know what more do to be close to me and win but also STOP Me from going home and I was there in the bed no even batting a eye as I at the very start of the relationship I chose stay because this was a more permanent thing no just fuckbuddys or had a boyfriend, mf got for courtship and now I was there like 'this bitch...' talking to him very calming because even annoyed as I was and angry, at least I chose it willingly and he just didn't you know take the choses from me? Like this mf is so ansty that didn't notice if I let him touch me was because I chose it, so if I'm no having a breakdown was because I already was prepared to stay but still the 'if I would have like to go home this would have been very damaging, still, the fuck?', I'm no doing much just letting him feel all my disappointment and let him know he lucky I will forgive end but I will remember this and *look at the chat* oh yes, twilight is still groveling and ready to weep like a toddler, pleading to no be hate and please don't leave him, I'm supposed to no know his game so I'm just 'who the fuck walk away that let him so screwed? Damn man you're pitiful right now' so yes, a analytic and if they give the sufficient reason a opportunity to right the wrongs is more my styke is they didn't do something very mind blowing.

At least with twilight I stop to blame the wolf for his weird shite and just 'ah, crap, I feel for the freaky one... Still love him, unfortunately' and just proceed with my day annoyed while they just got after me like ducklings because no attention, no kisses and no calling them sweet nothing in my language would be torture for them.

Hope you like my vision (how my rp with the ai got)

argentina ? Cool! Aquí desde españa, una venezolana que le tocó emigrar :D

[likablemuffin]

Magic always has some background tricks

(Hi :0 soooo... this is a gift for the absolutely wonderful @sloppy-syrup !! Me and them made up some lore based on their absolutely fabulous art you can find here! I ended up saying I would write something for it, and now I finally have! Terribly sorry for how long the wait was, writers block really just went B O N K

Hope you enjoy!! :DD)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leo was so excited!

He and his brothers had somehow managed to get tickets to an exclusive magic show! How on earth Leo managed to get the tickets, no one ever knew.

Leo hurriedly rushes his brothers to get ready, as they're taking too long! The show starts soon, and they're not even driving there yet!

"Come on, you guys! It's not that hard to get ready! We're not even dressing in suits or anything!" Mikey quickly stuffs random stuff in a bag. It's mostly his art supplies. "I know, I know! But if there's something cool that happens, I'm going to wanna draw it!" Leo groans and shakes Mikey's shoulders several times, as if that would help Mikey go faster. "Everything there is gonna be cool! We don't have time for this!!"

Mikey scoops up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. "Okay! I'm done! We can go!" Leo jumps in place a few times out of pure excitement and grabs Mikey's hand, zooming out of Mikey's room to find the others.

Once Leo gathers them all, they all hop in the turtle tank and start driving away. Leo wanted desperately to drive, but both Raph and Donnie knew that he'd drive way too fast to try and get there sooner, so Raph drove instead.

They park the obnoxiously large turtle tank in front of the building where the magic show is, and all walk into the building. 

It doesn't look very nice on the inside... the chairs seem mostly mismatched, and there are several very noticeable cobwebs and old boxes in the corners. The stage looks a bit dirty, and the curtains for the stage are ripped. 

The turtles stand in the doorway for a few seconds, eyeing the scene before walking in. 

"Well, this place is...interesting..." Raph says to break the silence. "Yeah... hoping it'd be more...normal." Leo says with disappointment very clear in his voice. Raph notices he sounds disappointed and pats his head. "I'm sure it'll still be fine, little bro." Leo chuckles. "Yeah, I'm sure it'll be fine!"

The four take a seat and wait for a couple of minutes for the show to start. The lack of people is truly very confusing, but they don't act too bothered about it. 

The curtains finally open, and a bulky man steps out wearing...a cardboard box? On his head. Everyone straightens in their seats as the man turns to look at them. "Hello, my wonderful guests! How is everyone this night?" Leo nods vigorously and sticks his thumb in the air. "Ah, doing great, I see!" The man chuckles to himself. "Well, I hope you all are ready to be blown away by the coolest magic tricks you will ever see!"

And with those words, the man takes off his top hat, and a whole bunch of doves come flying out. Leo and Mikey clap their hands in delight. 

The magic show continues on, with the magician doing tons of cool magic tricks that Leo, even as skilled in magic as he says he is, didn't understand how he did them. The brothers all stare at him in awe as the show continues. (well, except for Donnie, he kept mumbling to himself that science could do all the magic tricks way better.)

Finally, the magician finishes up. "Thank you all so, so much for coming!" Donnie mumbles something to himself about how there were only the four of them, so it was stupid to say "you all", but no one pays attention to him. 

"Now, I will choose one of you to see the next magic trick finale that will happen during my next show!" The turtles look at each other with confused expressions on their faces. Does that usually happen? Oh well, maybe it's just special for them because they're the only four who showed up! 

The magician points his finger at the crowd (consisting of only four people) and moves it around a bit until it lands on...

Leo.

"You! Young man! Come up here, and I will show you the next trick!" Leo practically jumps out of his seat and runs up the steps on the side of the stage. The magician puts his arm around Leo's shoulders. "What's your name, young man?" Leo smiles widely at him. "Leonardo! Or just Leo!"

The magician nods and points to Leo's brothers. "Do not fear; I will give your brother back after he sees the next amazing magic trick! Come with me, dearest Leonardo!" Leo sticks his tongue out at his brothers before following the magician behind the stage. 

______________________________________________________________

Behind the stage, there are several more boxes of stuff than in the main room, but at least there are no cobwebs here. The magician shuffles through one of the boxes and pulls out a gorgeous mask that's even Leo's favorite color! Blue! Leo stares at the mask for a few moments until the magician speaks. "Will you be willing to put this mask on?" 

Leo snaps out of his trance and stares at the magician. "You want me to put it on? Why?" Look, it might just be a mask, but still, putting something on that you get from a stranger isn't a good idea. "It's for the next show, remember? A magician never reveals their secrets!" Leo should be more cautious, but in all honesty, Leo trusts this guy! I mean, he's just a magician! What's the worst he can do?

So, Leo grabs the mask and puts it on. 

Everything seems normal at first, but Leo slowly notices floating cards start appearing around him. "What the..." He whispers to no one but himself. He stares at the cards with awe, and he doesn't take his eyes away for even one second. The magician seemingly fades from view, and honestly, Leo forgets he was even there in the first place, even though he was the one who gave him the mask. Leo's eyes slowly turn into black and white swirls, and he simply stares at the cards in front of him.

The magician chuckles watching the turtle instantly fall under the spell and takes off his cardboard box head. Hypno shakes his head a few times after he takes it off. "Blimey, that wasn't very comfortable to wear!" He looks at Leo, who is still stuck in a trance, and smirks. "Well, well, look at the catch of the day..."

He walks up to Leo and waves his hand in front of Leo's face several times. When Leo doesn't respond at all, Hypno laughs to himself and takes out his floating rings. "Let's go show your brothers this magic trick, shall we?"

Hypno puts one of his floating rings up to Leo's neck and starts leading him out from behind the stage.

_______________________________________________________________

Raph stares at the spot where Leo disappeared behind the stage. "He's been back there a while, don't ya think?" Donnie rolls his eyes and scrolls on his phone. "Don't worry; I'm sure he's fine. He probably got caught up talking to the magician." Mikey bounces in his seat. "What do you think the magic trick was? Aw man, I really wish I got chosen instead of Leo!"

A voice suddenly rings out through the whole room. "There has been a change of plans! I have decided to do the final trick today! Just as a special treat for you all coming today."

Leo suddenly appears on the stage in a poof of smoke wearing a strange mask, with...Hypno standing next to him, holding one of his floating rings in front of his neck. Leo doesn't even seem to notice that he just suddenly appeared in a different place than where he last was.

Before anyone can say anything, Hypno speaks up. "Of course, I'm sure you're all quite confused, but do not fear! This last act is the simple act of making something disappear! In this case, it's a pesky turtle." Hypno spins the ring at Leo's neck and makes it go closer to Leo's neck. 

Mikey screams, Raph stands up so fast that his chair falls over (and several behind it), and Donnie takes out his tech bo, firing a missile at Hypno. Hypno quickly jumps out of the way, and the missile crashes into the wall behind where he was just standing. Leo still doesn't move and doesn't register what's even happening. 

Which is... you know, not the best.

Raph and Mikey both quickly grab their weapons and rush up to Hypno to start to attack him. Hypno manages to dodge all their attacks pretty well, which is quite impressive since he was dragging Leo around with him. Raph growls at Hypno and punches his fists together, spawning red ninpo fists over his own. He charges at Hypno when Hypno is distracted by Mikey and Donnie, and Raph manages to deal an extremely hard punch right to Hypno's face. 

Hypno shouts in pain and stumbles back, losing his hold on Leo. Leo somehow has still not noticed what's going on around him and just continues to stare at seemingly nothing. Raph runs up to him and snaps his fingers in front of Leo's face a few times. When Leo doesn't respond, Raph moves to take off the mask, assuming that that's what's causing Leo to be like this.

He sadly doesn't, because one of Hypno's rings suddenly comes out of basically nowhere and cuts Raph's arm. Raph stumbles back and holds a hand over his injury, which is already bleeding. Hypno poofs behind Leo again and grabs him.

"NO-!" Raph screams as Hypno puts one of his rings near Leo's neck again. Hypno gets dangerously close to cutting Leo's neck, but Mikey uses his chains to wrap around Hypno and pull him away just before he can. A small drop of blood falls from a tiny cut on Leo's neck.

Raph walks up to Leo again and is very quick to take off the mask this time. The mask seems to almost be latched onto Leo, and it takes Raph a few tries to take it off. Once he does, Leo blinks a few times before letting out a chirp and promptly passing out. Raph obviously catches him, but he lets out a hiss as he catches Leo thanks to the massive cut on his arm. 

"GUYS!! I GOT LEO! LET'S FREAKING GO ALREADY!" Raph yells to the others as he picks Leo up in a bridal carry and starts running to the exit. Donnie and Mikey instantly stop fighting Hypno and run after Raph. Hypno tries to chase after them but quickly loses sight of them almost the instant he steps outside. "Curse you, turtles!! I never got to do my disappearing act!"

Leo wakes up to the glorious sounds of the medbay and a killer headache.

He's lying in one of the beds, with Raph sitting on the foot of the bed. Donnie is patching up Raph's arm while basically scolding him for being so reckless to allow himself to get such a bad injury. It's pretty funny to see since Raph is usually the one lecturing Donnie. 

Leo lets out both a curious and pained chirp and moves to cover his eyes with his hand. Gosh, were the medbay lights always this bright...? 

Donnie sees how distressed Leo is with the lights, and he pauses his scolding with Raph to dim the lights. The lights dim, and Leo takes his hand off of his face. Leo looks at the faces of his family and smiles. Mikey gives him the widest smile Leo's ever seen on his baby brother's face, and Leo gives him a happy chirp. 

Raph leans over and pats Leo's leg. "How're you doing, little brother?" Leo shrugs his shoulders and points to his head, putting a grimace on his face. "Ah, a headache. Yeah, that's not too surprising." Leo gives him a curious chirp, and Raph waves his hands. "No, no. You rest first, and then we'll talk about what happened. You can't even speak properly right now."

Leo huffs and slinks down under his blankets some more. Leo notices Donnie standing off in the corner, seemingly feeling too nervous that he'll hurt Leo somehow. Leo takes his arms out from under the blankets and reaches them out to Donnie, asking him for a hug. Donnie seems hesitant at first, but seeing how much Leo wants a hug, he walks over to him and engulfs Leo in a hug.

Leo chirps happily several times, and Mikey and Raph join in the hug too.

The hug ends with all four of them falling asleep in a turtle pile. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[daresplaining]

Do you think a blind person could play Daredevil or is Matt a bit too "competent" considering his super-senses? Like once he stops hiding his super-senses? Tho, by my honest and humble opinion, if the actor would get a proper tour of the sets, instructions and (if the actor would want to do his own stunts) training and co-operation, he could do the work pretty well (and with the help of stunt-doubles). Whitch while i love Charlie Cox, his performance and i know he loves the character and cares for him, and i am not even blind so i don't think i have any authority or even right to say anything (whitch is fine tbh) but i'd love to see that sort of authenticity and representation.

I'll go one step further: I think a blind actor should play Daredevil, full stop. I wish Charlie Cox all the best and success in his career, but I truly feel that casting him was a mistake and a huge missed opportunity, and the more effort that the MCU makes to start actually casting disabled actors (Alaqua Cox as Maya Lopez, for instance), the more awkward it feels to still have a sighted actor hanging around playing Matt.

To me, this is not really an issue of whether a blind actor is capable of playing the role, because of course they are, for all of the reasons you mentioned and more. What it comes down to is this: If accommodations are required to allow an actor to play a role successfully, then the answer is for the studio to make those accommodations. If screen acting or action film/TV acting or whatever is not accessible at this stage, the answer is to make it accessible, not to avoid casting disabled actors.

But to me, this isn't even about that. It's about the fact that there are very few blind characters in media, that Matt Murdock is arguably one of the most high-profile blind characters in media, and that this is a role that would have changed a blind actor's life and provided groundbreaking representation for the blind/visually impaired community. Plus, as you point out, having a blind actor in the lead role (not to mention in the writer's room, etc.) would ensure authenticity and add nuance. It's not about whether a blind actor is capable of playing Matt (they are), or about how well a sighted actor is able to embody the blind experience; it is about giving opportunities to actors who historically have not received them.

I really appreciate your question, and I'm sorry if this reads a bit rant-ish. This topic has been stewing for quite a while, as you can imagine, both in my brain and in the wider DD fan community.

[thewillowtree3]

Korrasami Secret Santa 2023!! ;DD!!

Hi, Korrasami fam!! We're back!! ;D!!

We're doing Korrasami Secret Santa for 2023!! (Sike, I did not copy this part from Korrasami Secret Secret 2022, but the rest I will LOOL). 6 years and kicking, babey, let's go ;DD!!

The rules are the same:

Korrasami creators will be able to gift one another with Secret Santa gifts. Whether it be fics, art, videos, animations…the fun’s all there! (It doesn’t have to be holiday-themed! It can be whatever you want :)

The Process:

This Secret Santa exchange will be done through drawnames.com, which is a Secret Santa Name Generator. You’ll need your email for this, and you can message me it directly on Tumblr (I’ll gather everyone’s names up, and put them into the generator when it’s time to draw names.)

The due date to sign up is 11:59 PM Nov 30, 2023 PDT (I’d like everyone to have ample time to do their Secret Santa gifts). :)

Most likely, you’ll need to make an account on drawnames.com (you don’t need to, but it’s recommended.  When you get to writing your Wish List on there, under ‘Hobbies and Interests’, make two different lists: One for ‘Fic Requests’, the other for ‘Art Requests’. If a writer draws your name, you’ll have a suggestion for what you want them to write. If an artist draws your name, they’ll have an idea of what to create! (Also, originally, this project only had fanfic and fanart- but if anyone can contribute any other talents, that’d be swell!)

Example: Fic Request- I want Korra and Asami cuddling at home with a fireplace!

Art Request: I want Korrasami going otter-penguin sledding!

The fic and art requests can be the same, or they can be different. Please limit it to one, or if you can’t choose, then two options. You can also note things that you don’t want (i.e. No smut or NSFW work!). You can be as specific as you wish.

Also, everyone else! We recognize that there may be people in the fandom who don’t create content, but still want to contribute! @lamftw​ came up with these great ideas four years ago, if you’d still like to participate in the Secret Santa. You can:

Create Korrasami memes! The more memes, the better :)

Share your favorite Korrasami headcanons! We’d love to hear them.

Share your favorite artwork/fanfic!

Share your favorite moment from LoK or share how much Korrasami means to you.

Create Korrasami memes, write a sweet holiday message/ note of appreciation :)

Also, we can all show some love to our favorite creators, to Bryke, Janet Varney, and Seychelle Gabriel (the voice of Korra and Asami, respectively). :)

When everyone has signed up, I’ll put all the names into the Secret Santa Name Generator. You should get an email, asking you to join the Secret Santa exchange. Just click ‘Join Group’, and you’re good! Once everyone has joined, the names will then be drawn, and you’ll get your chosen individual (you’ll get an email for this too). Please remember to check your email on Dec 1; we cannot draw names unless everyone has joined the Secret Santa group!

The reveal will be on Dec 19, 2023 (the 9th Korrasami Anniversary ;DD). Post your work on Tumblr, and tag the person you got, so they’ll know what lovely work they got! Also, please tag ‘Korrasami Secret Santa’ so we can save these posts for the future :).

Please note that if you sign up, you HAVE to commit to making something. This is open to all creators, of any skill level, but please please make something if you sign up. You don’t wanna leave anyone hanging!

Last note- remember to message me on Tumblr and give me your email. That’s the way to sign up! :)

Let's freaking go, y'all! LET'S MAKE THIS A GOOD ONE!! ;DDDD!!

Spread this to all your creator friends! LET'S GO FAM!! ;DD!!

6 YEARS IN A ROW!! LEGGO!! ;DDDD!!

Note- 11/27: Hey y’all, I’ve been shadowbanned recently LOL. Idk when Tumblr will unban me and give me my account back so ;__;. Because I’ve been shadowbanned, I cannot see any messages about the Korrasami Secret Santa :((. If I don’t get my account back before Nov 30th, I’ll just have to postpone the event and make a new date for it/prolong the posting date. I’ll keep y’all updated ;__;.

Note-11/28: Y’all, I just found out- Y’ALL CAN SEND IN ASKS!! I can still see them!! ;DDDD!! So if you still wanna join, please send me an ask with your email. I’ll still be prolonging the join/posting date if I don’t get my account back before Nov 30th, but this is a solution in the meantime!! :33

[orizukuin]

This one took forever to do- but overall I'm honestly happy for it's outcome :>

I did say we'll be starting with the Q&A once I upload the Character sheet in my style- (? At this time I'm still not sure if it's acceptable to call this one as a Character sheet- I tried my best...)

----- :

The Q&A is just for funsies/entertainment. ( Have a question for Charlie and Mike? Ask anyways! I'm sure they'll answer )

Please do keep in mind that the Character's surname is just an Headcanon of mine since they don't got a canon surnames. I search in the web for Korean surnames since the game was created by Korean Artists and Writers. Then landed with "Hyung-Seok" (for Charlie) and "Choi" (For Mike)

Charlie's personality is pretty much like in the game but with a side of candy sprinkles. Instead of avoidant,distancing themselves and pushing people away. Charlie's slowly opening themselves up and accepting to appreciate the little things that comes in their way. (Which sometimes make them feel weird since it's like a new feeling.)

We know very little of Mike's information in the game but we can see enough how understanding and caring he is. I think He got that light and warm energy around him that make others think instantly that Mike is a person that's a friend to everyone.

-----

I don't own the characters, both characters were belong to Miltteok, Jiwoo, Team_344 and the people that worked behind the production/foundation of UWO/CIU

!!! : if you have played the game, I suggest you to try and check it out :DD !!!

((→ feel free to save/use for Reference purposes ONLY))

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 28th July ✨

What to even say about this week. Oh my god. Will anything else ever live up to the The Silt Verses finale?? I don’t know! 

🦀 It’s been nearly a week and I still want to explode thinking about the @thesiltverses finale. What an incredible story made by incredible, talented people. I sobbed, I laughed, I said ‘fuck OFF’ out loud in shock and dismay. What a wonderful reminder to choose love no matter what you are asked to sacrifice. I wish Jon and Muna all the best for parenthood and I’m looking forward to their next project, whenever that may be!

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E14) aw it makes my heart so happy to hear Leo and Riley working through their issues!! Leo’s under a lot of pressure to fix a problem that may be unfixable (at least without a certain someone stopping being an evil hoarder of spirits) but I believe in them now that they’re no longer working in isolation!!

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (160) !!!!!! DO !!!! YOU!! WANT !!! TO !!! BE !! MY !!! FFR!!!IIIEEEN!!DD!!! !!!! I wish this episode could have ended with the return of my BEST BOY but jesus, that torture device Shelby is trapped in is not only sick but also twisted. I love how the hallows plays with genre, but I didn’t expect a nod to torture porn! I hope Clem gets her out of there and SOON. 

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (28) hehehe my favourite silly is back and they’re 🤭✨jealous✨🤭. I love how Óli is so entitled but SO endearing with it. “I shouldn’t HAVE TO” stop, I already love them so much. 

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (23) The thing that really creeped me out this episode was how the writer kept referring to suggestions other handles had made while all the posts were getting 0 comments. Excellent stuff. 

🦋 @remnantspod had my emotions all over the place this week with eps 2+3. I loved how simple but effective the music was in ep 2 and I think my heart is still broken thinking about that ring. This show is going to ruin my life in the best way, I can already tell. 

🥾 @doyoucopypod is back! I listened to the first episode this week and I’m excited to hear the recordings to find out what on Earth happened in these caves! I’m worried that this entity will find out what they’re doing and compel Blair to stop them!! 

Possibly no ADS from me next week because I'm going on my sister's hen do (pray for me hehe) 

I hope everyone has a lovely week and listens to things that make their heart happy! 🥰

[bellaxgiornata]

hiya! i’m asking both you and @pastafossa this question (because you’re my favorite daredevil writers). as someone who was very sunburnt today, july 4th, do you think matt can feel himself get a sunburn? and would he wear sunscreen to counteract it? when we were young, my sister had bad sensory issues and wouldn’t wear sunscreen. so i’m just wondering what matt’s reaction to all that would be. hope you had a great 4th of july!!

First off thank you so much!! 😭❤ There are so many wonderful DD writers so hearing that means a lot!! And @pastafossa is amazing (TRT is the reason I even started writing for Matt)!

I'm so sorry this took me so long to respond to, I've had the answer in my brain since I first read this, but finding a moment uninterrupted by children to sit and respond has been hard to do! (Also sorry to hear about your sunburn that day, that sounds awful!)

As usual I answered below the cut because this got long!

To answer your first question, I absolutely believe Matt can feel a sunburn. I mean, when I've had bad sunburns I can feel them aching and burning throughout the day on my own skin and I don't remotely have the senses that Matt does. And showering with a sunburn? I'm sure you know how much that sucks 😆 To Matt I imagine a sunburn would be constantly irritating and painful, but considering how injured he probably often is just walking around day to day, I'm sure the pain would be nothing new to him. He'd probably try to just suck it up or consider it something he deserved to suffer through. But yes, I absolutely think he could feel it and that it would be nonstop miserable for him--especially a really, really bad sunburn.

As for Matt wearing sunscreen, I could absolutely see him wearing it, BUT I will add that I don't really picture Matt as the type of individual that goes out in the sun long enough to get burnt in the city. I'm sure he did as a kid on occasion though, but not so much as an adult. He doesn't seem to have a lot of recreational hobbies or leisure time for lengthy outdoor daytime activities because he's too busy with the firm or too busy being the Devil or too busy being half dead in his apartment. Though if he did go out for a day in the sun, he'd probably be dragged by someone else (like a significant other or Fog) and they would most likely force him to wear some. And yes, most definitely I could see sunscreen absolutely bothering him, but I believe some might be more bearable to him than others.

I think it was last month that I was researching different types of sunscreens (don't ask, weird thing to research, I know) and there are literally so many different types nowadays that I imagine he'd be able to find one that wasn't too awful for him to wear. It currently eludes me whether it was the mineral or chemical ones that are less irritating on skin--especially if you sweat and it gets in your eyes--but I imagine there'd be a go-to type he'd use. Something that didn't have too much of a strong scent and that absorbed fairly well into his skin. Because anything that left a sort of greasy layer on him I'm sure would be distracting and feel disgusting to him. And having to reapply it would certainly just add to that gross feeling. More than likely he'd still end up taking a long shower after his outdoor activities to try to get it all off of his skin as soon as he could, too.

This was such a fun question though, so thank you!! I don't know if you read FFTD but in a waaaaay later installment in the future I plan to look at Matt sitting on a beach in a somewhat realistic view of him (from how I picture things) dealing with the situation with his senses. So basically having to wear sunscreen, dealing with sand on his skin (OMG he'd so hate sand 🤣😭) and possibly some other things. It's just always so fun to explore how he'd react to things with his senses!

[chiiyuuvv]

BESTIEEE

I FINALLY PASSED MY HISTORY EXAM💃💃💃💃

I failed this exam A LOT OMG

BUT guess what...I PASSED IT WITH 100/100

Girl I can't believe it🥹🥹

SAUR how do you think xikers will react to you passing an exam/important test that you were working on for a long time/stressing over a lot?

You can write it whenever you can cuz I think your requests are closed, BUT I CAN WAIT. I want YOUR thoughts because you are the best writer on this app frfr. So take your time

Anyways take care bestie, don't skip your meals, love youu🤍

-🌵 anon<3

• PAIRING — bf!xikers x gn!reader

• GENRE — proud xikerss :DD, slight kissing, almost wrote a whole fic for hunter-

• WORD COUNT — 782

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — sorry this is so late!! And good job on your tests :O

• TAGLIST — @lil-elle , @hyunukitty , @cake1box , @mars101 , @nenede , @soul-is-a-strange-kid , @the-lemon-boy , @yuniniverse

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

MINJAE ☆

Hes not even surprised atp, he knows how smart you are

But boy does he pretend to be shocked, his hand covering his mouth as he takes in another gasp

But his other hand is hiding behind his back

You seem to notice and the only thing he can do is giggle, revealing an neatly folded box

Turns out there was a very pretty necklace inside, minjae spinning you around to put it on you, whispering in your ear how pretty you look and how proud he is ♡

JUNMIN ☆

Makes sure you do nothing for the rest of the week

So what if its monday?? He'll do anything for his precious baby since you worked so hardd

Will make your meals and clean the kitchen, your room, your study area

Even gives you a bath

And he wont stop either, that is, if you want cuddles ♡

SUMIN ☆

Sumin knew how stressed out you'd get with your exams so he prepared you a little smth!!

(And also some tissues)

Finally uncovering your eyes, you find a self portrait of yourself studying

And lemme just say how beautiful you look

The lines sketched with such care and patients, now you know why sumin had been smiling so much lately ♡

JINSIK ☆

I think this calls for pizza!! 🗣🗣‼‼

Also makes sure you do nothing. All you gotta do is just there and look pretty and that was already took no effort

Also a movie night because why not, and you've been meaning to catch up on some movies, also why not??

His arm wrapped your shoulder at all times, and will whine if you try to move around

Plus random cheek kisses, yeah, thats about it ♡

HYUNWOO ☆

Decides to buy tickets last minute and takes you to the fair!!

Lots of hand holding and pda, wiping some off the cinnamon off of your lips caused by your churros

Will attempt to get you those huge teddy bears, but sulks when he cant so you just gotta give him some kisses

Also the ferris wheel!!

Makes sure youre at the tippy top then he processed to tell you how proud his is and how special you mean to him, sealing it with a kiss ♡

JUNGHOON ☆

Yall know junghoon isnt that big on physical affection

But when he hears the news hes a changed man

His eyes shot open and his hands moving faster than his brain, picking you up and spinning you around when he gives you the biggest kiss on your cheek

Wait whaat??

Wdym he did that no he didnt stop being so delusional he didnt kiss your cheek and secretly enjoyed it but not enjoying your teasings rn shut up 🙄 ♡

SEEUN ☆

"Really?! I thought you failed!!"

His response earned him a huge punch

But hes only joking, ruffling your hair before dialing his phone, calling everyone and their mom to tell the news

Man does more than just spill the tea, he makes it from scratch

Hes overally dramatic when he tells your adventure, saying how you had to cross 7 seas just to find the right answer.. but you love him anyways 🤷‍♀️ ♡

YUJUN ☆

Hes wants to hear all about it, so spill the tea 😠😠

Another one to think you taking a test was so dramatic, having to slay a dragon just to get the right answer to a question

And boy is he listening!! (He listens to you more than minjae)

He'd be so awestruck when youre done, his jaw lefted open and hes looking at you with sparkly eyes

Hes so proud of you too :(( ♡

HUNTER ☆

Also think hes like minjae with the gift giving, pulling out this beautiful bracelet he bought months ahead of time because he knew you'd do well

But unlike minjae, he takes you out to dinner!!

Yes, a big, fancy dinner. And hes paying for it all by himself <3

Hunters prince agenda omgomg

No bc he'd drop down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, making sure to look up at you in the process, opens every. Since. Door in sight and also pushes you into your chair. Andd he also leans against the table to wipe something off the corner of your lips, giggling to himself bc youre just so adorable. i could write a whole fic honestly... ♡

YECHAN ☆

You passed your exam? Give him a hug

You got an A?? Give him a hug

You thought you were going to fail? Frowns at you, before hugging you tightly

Spends the rest of the day giving you so much love, youre only allowed to be in his arms

And is the boy so soft??? The most gentle hes ever been ♡