#i feel like i have to jump through hoops just to have someone look at me in a positive way

[shot-messenger]

i really shouldnt be entertaining this

[cilantroodon]

[ID: Four gifs of Jamie from Ted Lasso in black and white with text over them. The first two are Jamie having his cheek pinched by his mom, and him grabbing Roy's face, with the text "How much of my mother has my mother left in me? / How much of my love will be insane to some degree?" The second two are of his dad shadowboxing up to him before punching him, and Jamie shadowboxing Roy in Amsterdam, with the text "How much of my father am I destined to become? / Will it wash out in the water or is it always in the blood?" End ID.]

“could I change it if i wanted? can i rise above the flood?”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[oshikiri-toru]

I'm a strong believer in Soap & Ghost not wanting kids and not really caring to "start a family," but I do love the idea of them taking in the older neighborhood kids.

They don't foster or adopt, too lazy to jump through all the legal hoops and unending paperwork, but they'll have the troubled children on the block come in for dinner almost every night. Kids whose parents couldn't give a damn about them, already gave up on them, or are too tired to actually parent.

They let them help with house work and pay them so they know what it's like to earn instead of steal, they'll invite them to parties to know what it's like to have community, and they'll show up to their games or plays to let them know someone will always be proud.

Teens are always in and out of their houses, knowing it's always a soft place to land, knowing Soap and Ghost don't already see them as lost causes. Knowing if they have a bad trip or get badly hurt that they won't get in trouble or screamed at, they'll get help.

It helps that they both understand the kids, lost and alone in a world that doesn't give a damn. Sometimes they have heart-to-hearts, let the kids cry until they can't anymore. Other times they teach them how to properly swing at a punching bag to healthily release their anger. Occasionally they'll actually fight the kids just to show them they aren't as tough as they think before teaching them better ways to settle conflict.

Most importantly, they show the kids that no matter how fucked up your life is, how hard things get, or how much it feels like it's all ending, it'll always end up okay. They'll grow up, make a life for themselves, find people who care about them, and can help make the world a better place so the next generations of kids will feel a little less like they did.

They'll never have kids of their own, but they sure as hell look out for the kids in their lives.

[latenightdaydreams]

Can you write about Konig and stepmother! Reader. When he came back to visit his father in his hometown after years of deployment and he saw stepmother!reader who is young and curvy with large breasts and then...they fuck=))) Not forcing, love your writing btw

This is such a hot idea 😮‍💨I had so many ideas so I just had to pick one and write! Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy the story! Have a great day♥️

König x Stepmother!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

Part2 Part3 Part4

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>cw: fem/ afab reader, step mom, p in v, age gaps, mentions of breeding

2.6k word count

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König sat on his bed in his quarters and yanked his mask off of his face as his hands grasped a wedding invitation for his father’s 4th wedding. König looked at the elegant font and design before rolling his eyes and tossing the invite into the trash. After his father walked out on his mother, he has had no interest to keep up with him. It’s pathetic how a 73-year-old man keeps bouncing from wife to wife. König wouldn’t give this marriage a year. Yet, it was still his father and he made sure to try and make it to his city once he went back home to visit.

Still dressed in his full military uniform he finds himself standing outside of his father’s door. He takes a deep breath as he gets ready to see his dad again and meet whoever was stupid enough to marry the man. His hands go under his mask to adjust it slightly. Deciding to get it over with, he raises his hand and knocks on the door.

The door opens and he expects to see his 6’4 slender and frail old man of a father, but instead he sees you, his new step mom. You open the door with such warmth and radiance it’s as if the sun light behind you was coming from you. He stood there with a blank stare for a moment, trying to process the site before him. His eyes traveling down your frame to see the way your breasts are barely contained within you summer dress, you don’t look a day over 30, even young for König’s 46-year-old self. He swallows hard, no way this is his step mom.

“König?” Your voice smooth like silk with an accent sends a shiver down his spine.

“Ja, and you’re…”

“Y/N,” your hand is so small and delicate within his own as he grabs yours to shake. He tries to control his gaze as they step into the house.

“Your father is just over here,” you say walking ahead of König as you both make your way to the living room. König’s eyes glued to your ass jiggling and the way your hips sway with every step. His mind jumping through hoops trying to understand how his dad could have possibly landed someone as fucking hot as you.

Walking up to his father König holds a hand out for him to shake, his eyes piercing down at the old man with a look of distain.

“Hallo, how have you been old man?” König asks as he sits, his eyes trailing back to his new step mom as she sits on the arm rest next to his dad.

“Great son, have you met my old ball ‘n chain?” Felix hand creeping around your waist.

König suppresses the eyeroll he feels at his dads comment about his new wife. His new soft, big breasted wife.

“I have, she’s lovely.” His piercing pale blue eyes meet your gaze as he says these words. His dad too oblivious to notice the lustful gaze his son was giving his new wife.

A small blush forms on your cheeks as König calls you lovely. You smirk and look over his body. He is massive. A younger, bigger version of Felix. You wonder if everything is bigger.

“Well, I’m happy I finally get to meet you. Felix has told me so much about you.”

“Has he now?” König asks while looking at his father, Felix’s eyes glued to watching the TV.

“Can I get you something to drink König? I’m sure you’re wore out from all of the traveling.” You stand to your feet and smooth out your dress as you wait for his reply.

König’s throat was dry and he most definitely could use something to drink, but he didn’t want water, he wanted you to squirt in his mouth. He shakes his head to snap out of the thought.

“Uh, yes please.” König stands and walks past his father following you into the kitchen. His dad too out of it to even keep interest in a conversation with him, he wonders how you do it.

You walk into the kitchen and tiptoe to get a glass for König when you feel a large hand on your side, making you shiver.

“Here, let me help.” König says casually as if his heart isn’t beating out of his chest from the sensation of touching your waist. His hand resting on the curve of your perfect hour glass shape as his mind begins to wonder how sexually fulfilled you actually are with his father. He quickly pushes the thought aside as he hands you a glass.

“Thank you, König.” You grab the glass from his eyes all the while gazing deeply into his blue eyes. Snapping out of it you turn and go to the fridge as you begin to fill the glass with water. “So, your dad tells me you’re a Colonel?”

“I am,” König eyes you intently wondering why you’re actually here with his dad, you could be with anyone. “How long have you been with my father?” He takes the cup of water from you, your fingers grazing his making him feel a spark.

“A little over four years now.” You reply leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

König’s eyes land on your breasts again before he looks down at his glass and takes a long drink. He couldn’t think of any appropriate questions to ask you. From are your breasts real to can his dad even please you are the only ones bouncing around in his brain.

Just then his dad walks in and pats König on the back, making him jump. König watches as his dad walks past him to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your soft lips. A heat of jealousy rushes over him as he drops his gaze and drinks more water.

“Is dinner almost ready?” Felix asks as his hand remains on your ass.

“It is, I was just getting König a drink.”

“Alright, let’s get eating, I’m tired.” Felix complained as he made his way to the table. König thankful his face is hidden or hid dad would have seen his disgust.

“I’ll help set the table,” König walked to the cabinet you had opened and reached over you to grab three plates.

“Oh, thank you.” He was close and all you could think about was his cologne mixed with his natural musk, finding it enticing.

You set the table with König’s help and sat down to eat. It was painfully awkward. You could tell the strained relationship between father and son was hopeless. Felix has no interest in talking to his son and his son has no interest in forgiving his dad. König’s eyes kept following you the whole time. Watching how your lips wrapped around your fork as you took a bit, the way your breasts rest on the table due to their size. He can’t get enough of you.

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Hours pass and König is in the room you set up for him and looking around. He pulls his mask off and begins to undress. He can’t stop thinking of you.  As he drops his pants, his erection is more obvious. He runs his palm over it through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as he walks to the bed and gets under the covers. Looking up at the ceiling he begins to think of you as he slowly began to stroke his cock. Thinking of the way your breasts jiggle with the slightest of movement. He closes his eye and begins to pump his fist over his cock, imagining you riding him and how your breasts would look bouncing. Thinking you and Felix are asleep, he lets out soft moans.

You walk upstairs from getting a late night snack and you can hear soft little moans coming from down the hall, you know its König. Looking ahead at your bedroom door, then over to König’s, you decide to make your way to his room.

Standing outside the door you can clearly hear his hand moving over his cock, soft wet sounds mixed with the blankets rustling. You can hear him moan out your name every few seconds. Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

König stops and his eyes go wide as he sees you. A mix of surprise and embarrassment written on his face as he gulps. His eyes travel down your body and notice the silky light pink night gown you’re wearing. The dress clings perfectly to your body, you look like a goddess.

“Y/N…” König says your name with lust and panic in his tone.

“König…” You close the door behind you. Your eyes travel to the part of the blanket that was poking up from his erection.

König froze in place as you slowly started to walk to him. You sit on the bed beside him as you reach out and grasp his erection over the blanket. König lets out a shaky breath feeling your small hand grasp his fat cock.

“Oh Scheiße.” He moaned softly as you squeezed the head of his cock.

“Would you like some help?” You slowly stroke down his cock and watch as his jaw drops.

König begins to nod his head quickly, “Please,” his eyes look into yours almost begging you.

You pull the blanket back to see his boxer briefs pulled down his thighs and his cock out, the foreskin hugging his bright pink tip that’s leaking pre cum. His cock is simply massive. You grab his cock, skin on skin now, your fingers don’t even meet when wrapped around him. König’s breathing quickly at this point watching with anticipation.

You begin to stroke his cock faster pulling quiet moans from König’s lips. You look up at his maskless face and study it, watching the way his face contorts with pleasure; he looks exactly like his dad, but younger.

Without thinking König reached a hand out and cupped one of your breasts over the nightgown. He squeezed gently as he moved his eyes from your hand wrapped around him to his hand on you. Your breast so big and full they spill over his large hands. He has never been blessed to touch such beautiful breasts before. His hand pulls down your night gown to expose your bare breast to him.

Your nipples hard as he reaches out and tugs on one. “Mein Gott, you are so perfect.” He whispers almost as if he didn’t mean to say the words out loud.

He sits up more to lean forward, his lips finding yours and bringing you into a passionate kiss, his tongue finding yours as you softly begin to suck on his. He lets out a soft groaning sound at the thought of you sucking his cock instead. His hand still playing with your nipple as the other holds your waist tightly. Precum leaking on to your hand as he slowly breaks the kiss.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you since the minute I laid my eyes on you.” He growls as he begins to kiss down your neck, biting lightly to not leave marks behind.

He hears you let out the softest little moan and it sends his brain into over drive as he pushes you back on the bed. His mouth hungrily kissed down your neck to your breast as he pulls his underwear all the way off. His mouth latched to your nipple and sucking at it desperately as you moan out running your fingers through his hair. König had been thinking about what this moment with you might be like, and now here he was; ready to show you another reason why he’s better than his dad.

You watch as König slaps his heavy cock onto your wet pussy, it’s been ages since you’ve been fucked- like really fucked. Your legs twitch as his cock rubs over your sensitive clit and it makes him smirk.

“Fuck me already,” you demand pathetically and König chuckles in response.

“Horny little house wife, aren’t you?” He teases as he slips his cock into your tight wet cunt. Instantly your velvety walls began to flutter around his size desperately trying to accommodate him.  You let out a quiet moan as your eyes close, face twisting in pleasure. His cock filling you up to the point of pain, but fuck it felt good. His hands grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs. His cock pressing in until he hits your mushy cervix, your pussy not even able to fit all of him.  

“You like that, huh?” König asks feeling a bit arrogant.

His pins your legs back and begins to just pound into your creamy cunt, his mouth finding your breast as he begins to kiss and bite all over them, no longer worrying about leaving marks on you. He wanted you for his own self. His balls slapping hard against your ass as they tighten from excitement.

Not only did your gummy cunt feel like heaven, the whole taboo situation of you being his step mom was adding to the experience. The thought of filling you with his cum and possibly getting you pregnant making his mind go crazy with excitement.

“Please fuck me!” Your fingers drag across König’s broad back and scratch deeply, leaving bright red marks across his pale skin. Yours legs tremble as they squeeze his side.

“König- I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, cum for me like the needy little step mom you are.” His hand moves to your pussy as his thumb begins to rub to your clit. You melt into nothing as you begin to moan loudly, your body tensing as you feel the rush of euphoria takes over your body.

“Shhh, you’re going to wake the old man up. You really want your husband to see you getting fucked by his son?” He smirks as you cum on his cock. He can feel how wet you get as you squeeze his cock. In this moment Felix isn’t even a thought, all you can think about is König’s cock fucking you.

König grabs a pillow and puts it down beside you before quickly pulling out. He easily manhandles you and flips you over, using the pillow to help lift your ass up. He got behind you, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding his cock that is covered in your creamy thick white cum. Pushing his leaky cock into you slowly he lets out a low sigh. His hands wrap around your ass and squeeze, pulling your cheeks apart as his thumb rubs over your tight asshole.  He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep going, his muscles becoming tense as his balls begin to tingle and tighten. Your cunt keeping a tight grip on his cock.

Königs head dropped back and his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he lets out tiny whimpers of pleasure. Without warning, König cums deep inside of your pussy, feeling his cock throbbing inside you.

He pulled out with heavy breath before laying beside you on the bed. You both looked at each other smiling.

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.

The next morning König goes down stairs to see you wearing black leggings and a simple t-shirt. You were standing in front of the stove making breakfast for everyone. His eyes meet yours and you both smirk at each other.

He sits next to his father at the table exuding a cocky aura. He just fucked his dad’s wife after all. König keeps his eyes on your breast as you walk back and forth, remembering how they looked bouncing as he pounded into you last night.

You don’t know it, but König is already planning a life with you, away from his father. He feels no guilt or remorse, if anything this is just karma for Felix. You abandon his mom; he steals your woman. Fair is fair.

Part2 Part 3 Part 4

[uhohdad]

(18+) WARNING: ABUSE - MANIPULATIVE BEHAVIOR

☆ König Voiceline Inspired Drabbles ☆

“Not bad… I’ve seen better.”

König knows what he’s doing. There’s a reason he picked a young, pretty little thing to toy with. Naive and inexperienced and desperate for someone to give you the guidance and attention you crave.

You were such an easy target. Looking up at him with stars in those pretty wide eyes at every little scrap of praise he threw your way, bending over backwards for more, you were addicted to his approval and terrified of his displeasure.

You generously repeat the outfits that he compliments and he never again sees the outfits he quirks a brow at, the faintest frown on his lips, so subtly conveying his disapproval with the choices you make when left to your own devices.

He loves breaking you down just to build you back up. Making you feel dumb for your silly hobbies and interests, just for him to plan a date that revolves around your favorite things. Tell you how you barely qualify as a professional, working a job fit for a teenager, just for him to visit with a pick-me-up while you’re knee deep in paperwork. Such a hard worker you are, schatz. You deserve a treat.

You always get so nervous when he withdrawals. He loves how a few days of radio silence leaves you so pliant once he decides to let you back in. How your voice sounds extra high-pitched and pleasant, how you doll yourself up and wear his favorite outfit, how you’re on your best behavior and jumping through hoops for his reassurance.

König loves how desperate you are to please him in the bedroom. Not hesitating to drop your knees, craning up at him as he towers over you, dawning those soft, nervous doe eyes. He instructs you to undress him, and you obey, shaking fingers fumbling for his belt, pulling down his zipper, reaching into his waistband to retrieve his aching cock.

He’s so big in those small, delicate hands. He watches you marvel at the size, can practically hear your racing thoughts, wondering if you’ll be able to handle him.

You’d never want to let him down. So you put those pretty little lips around his cock, carefully watching his expression to see if you’re doing a good job as you slobber over him.

König bites his lip, fighting with everything he has to suppress the grunts and moans threatening to leave him, to keep his face even instead of twisting in pleasure.

He likes watching you falter, stumbling over yourself, confused and worried, jumping to swallow more of him until he’s satisfied. So desperate to please him you choke yourself with his cock, gagging, tears streaming down your face, chin slick with your spit.

“If you can’t handle as something as simple as a blow job, I guess I’ll just have to do it myself.”

He grabs a fistful of your hair, holding your head steady with a tight grip as he ruthlessly fucks your mouth, finally letting the pent-up gravelly grunts and moans flow freely.

“That’s it, schatz. Take this cock. Being so good, aren’t you?”

And even while you’re choking on his brutal thrusts, your brows slope and raise, stars in your glossy eyes and a flood of arousal in your panties.

“You’ll do anything to make me happy, won’t you schatz?”

☆ “They are no match for me” ☆

☆ “Let’s be honest, it’s better off in my hands” ☆

[letsgetrowdy43]

All you gotta do is ask—

Jack Hughes x reader

Request: Maybe something about jack’s best friend going to a game and is wearing someone else’s jersey and he gets jealous. Like he likes the reader but hasn’t said so. Reader likes him and doesn’t know he feels the same until they’re out after the game and he says something along the lines of “my girl shouldn’t have someone else’s name on her back. It’s wrong” and maybe cute fluffy ending because this girl is hormonal and needs the emotional rollercoaster

Jack's eyes caught hers from the bench, Ellen to her right chatting about Luke's rookie year, as she smiled fondly at him, giving him a little wave before his attention was pulled back towards the game.

"He adores you," Ellen smiled as the young girl turned to her with reddened cheeks. "What?" "Jack," she nodded towards her son on the ice, the two of them watching as he took a shot and the puck flew straight into the back of the net, both his mother and his best friend shot onto their feet, screaming with their hands in the air.

He faced the crowd with a grin, tongue stuck out of his mouth and he yelled out of excitement, sending a wink in the direction of his best friend as she blushed at the action, "he loves you," Ellen continued as the crowd calmed down, the devil's goal song still playing loudly as the girl swallowed thickly. "I love him too," she said with a soft smile, "he's my best friend," Ellen gave her a knowing look before they went back to watching the game.

The game ended with a Devils win, the first one in their string of home games before the All-Star break.

Ellen, Jim, and the young girl sat in the family room just outside of the locker room, a smile on her face as baby Haula ran over to her as she chatted with Kristen. She was pulled out of their conversation as the door opened to reveal Luke followed by a grinning Jack who maneuvered his way around the room to get to her while Luke went to their parents.

"You played so good," she grinned as he pulled her in for a hug, "my superstar," she whispered as he laughed at the nickname. "I scored for you," he mumbled into her shoulder, before looking down her back to see a larger 43 on her back, he pulled away tensely, a look of confusion on his face as her face filled with worry.

"You're wearing a Luke jersey?" he gasped. "Yeah, he gave it to me before the game, your jersey is in my car," she grinned, but his smile did not return. "I scored for you and this is how you repay me," he whispered, tone whiney as she rolled her eyes at his antics.

"I'm being serious, this feels so wrong, my girl should not be wearing my brother's jersey," her brows furrowed as her eyes caught his. "Your girl?" "Don't kid yourself, you've been mine since we were in middle school," he said smugly as her face grew a new shade of red. "You can't just deem me 'you girl' J," she said with a grin, her arms wrapping around his neck, "you gotta ask me first," her tone was taunting as he leaned in to kiss her but she dodged him and stared at him with raised brows

"You gotta ask," she fumbled, fingers playing with his damp curls. "You've always been mine Y/n/n," she shook her head, loving the mental hoops she was making him jump through as she smiled menacingly. "just ask J, it's all you gotta do, or you could beg, whatever floats your boat," her grin grew as he rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said batting his lashes as she giggled at the theatrics of it all, "Would you do me the honours of being my girlfriend?" he asked so kindly which rewarded him with a slow kiss to the lips instead of an answer, the action telling enough that it was an obvious yes.

a groan sounded from behind them as Luke, Dawson, and John grimaced at the sight in front of them. "Kissing my brother in my jersey, yucky," Luke said which gained a nice strong elbow to his ribs from his father who just smiled proudly at the couple.

"Trust me, she's taking it off," the entire family room groaned in disgust as she hid her face in his chest in embarrassment, "I didn't mean it that way guys, don't be gross!" which gained a laugh from the room as he stood them with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

-

-

-

[lotus-tower]

it is horrific what we’re allowing to happen to children right now. if covid causes cognitive dysfunction and decline in adult brains, what impact will it have on small brains that are still developing? many children who are too young to even be vaccinated are catching covid, as well as a whole host of other opportunistic infections. children can get, are getting, long covid. children aren’t sick often because it’s “normal” or “good” for them—they’re sick often because they’re more vulnerable than adults.

children have no choice but to be sent to schools where they get sick again and again. they don’t have the ability to distance themselves from their parents and establish boundaries, they’re entirely reliant on their carers. if their parents do not believe in covid prevention, they have no means to protect themselves. they don’t have the ability to consent to what is happening to their health.

schools are not just allowing children who are sick to attend class anyway, they’re borderline mandating it. schools as an institution care more about meaningless attendance records than about students’ wellbeing. the classroom is an environment where all factors incentivize students coming to school sick.

there are horrific accounts from parents about kids being sick 24/7, never having energy, struggling with schoolwork. there are horrific accounts from teachers about their young students being different these days, unable to handle the usual schoolwork, showing signs of that classic covid “brainfog.” i’ve seen evidence of schools making their tests and criteria much easier in order to maintain an acceptable pass rate instead of addressing the actual core problem in the slightest.

i often think about a comment i read once about how someone knew it was fucked when no change happened after sandy hook, when the US decided and enshrined the fact that children were acceptable sacrifices. this is how it feels. this isn’t just about the US though. children are getting reinfected with covid again and again worldwide. this is about the entire next generation.

they didn’t choose any of this. they have no power to stop this whatsoever. none of us consented to this, obviously, but children most of all. most of them don’t even have any idea what’s happening to them, and won’t for years.

there needs to be a push for schools to adopt better covid prevention measures, like better ventilation and air filtration. but even more crucial, and much more difficult, is to do away with the ideology at the core of how schools are designed. just like how workers deserve sick leave, children need to be able to stay home when sick. no jumping through hoops for a doctor’s note to be accepted, no strict time limit. schools obviously know that 1 student staying home sick is less disruptive than 20 students being sick and unable to do their schoolwork. they know the math, but they aren’t after efficiency. just like companies know that happier workers are more productive. that’s not the point. it’s more obvious than ever what is choking our societies to death on every level.

i’ve seen university unions who’ve won teachers the right to demand masking in their lessons, the right to have air filters installed in their classrooms. the same needs to happen for K12 schools, especially since young children can’t advocate for themselves. parents could theoretically wield a lot of influence as well—but let’s face it, most are uninterested in or actively hostile to the idea of better air for their children. efforts to combat this need to be organized, sustained, and coordinated.

imagine how current children will feel once they grow up and look back and realize that their health was compromised before they even learned to speak, that they were born into a sick world, that they were born to be sick, not inevitably but because people preferred things this way.

[avatar-anna]

bad idea, right?

As you slipped a gold hoop through your ear, you wondered if you were making a huge mistake.

You weren't, you knew you weren't, but the butterflies swirling around in your belly were making you anxious. This was nothing, so why was your body reacting this way?

"Well don't you look hot!"

You turned to look at your roommate, jumping a little in front of the mirror. "Thanks."

She took that as her cue to come into your room, settling on the edge of your bed as you finished getting ready. You normally wouldn't mind, you and Marissa hyped each other up before dates all the time, but you didn't think she would be in favor of this particular outing. That alone warranted you to question whether or not this was a good idea, but you were confident it was, so you pushed it aside.

Well, not good, per se, but not bad either.

"Is that new? I've never seen you wear that top before."

You looked down at your cropped sweater, the one you'd cut yourself yesterday after buying it. The amount of time it took for you to figure out what to wear tonight was too embarrassing to admit—and perhaps what was more pathetic was the hours of shopping you did—but at least you'd settled for something that was on the casual side. The last thing you needed was to come off as if you thought about tonight too much, or worse, you didn't want anyone thinking you had expectations.

Shrugging, you hoped you appeared more nonchalant than you felt. "No, this was just... something I had deep in my closet."

"Really?"

No. "Really."

Having snagged the last earring in the set of holes on your right ear, you moved to the left. You pretended to focus hard on your task, even though you could've done it without the mirror, but now you were trying to hide your blush from your roommate. If she sensed something was off, she'd keep questioning you, and you really couldn't have that.

"I didn't even know you were going out tonight," she said. From the reflection in the mirror, you saw her eye your outfit one more time. "Where are you going again?"

"I never said," you told her. "It was kind of a last minute thing. Someone from class invited me."

"Like a date?" Marissa asked you. "Wait. Is this who you've been going out for coffee with the last few days?"

You winced, your hand having slipped and stabbed your ear on accident. You didn't realize your roommate had been keeping such close tabs on you, which was probably a good thing seeing as you lived in a big city together. But you hoped Marissa wasn't too perceptive. She'd kill you if she knew. So you put on your best smirk and said, "Could be."

Marissa kept peppering you with questions about the "mystery man," but you wouldn't budge. You couldn't. Finally done with jewelry, you turned around and presented yourself to her. "How do I look?"

"Like whoever you're seeing tonight is gonna fall to their knees when they see you," Marissa said.

"Perfect," you said. That was exactly what you were going for.

On your way out, the anxiety in the pit of your stomach continued to build, messing with your head and making you think this whole thing was a bad idea. It probably was, but maybe it wasn't. But then again...

"Fuck it, it's fine," you muttered. Then, over your shoulder, you called out to your roommate, "Don't wait up for me!"

"Text me at 12:30 so I know you're still alive!" Marissa called back from the couch where she was watching, re-watching, Pride and Prejudice. "And don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Too late for that.

*.*

"Thanks for coming over."

You nodded as you took a sip of your wine. "Thanks for inviting me."

Harry grinned before sipping from his own glass. "This isn't weird, is it? I know inviting you over for dinner seems a little forward, but I feel like enough time has passed that we can catch up as friends, right?"

Friends. You really were an idiot. You'd been stupid enough to think that after the first few catch-up coffee dates, this might've been more, which was completely insane. You and Harry broke up almost two years ago now. When he texted you saying he'd moved back to the city, you agreed to see him and catch up, as any two people who used to know each other would. Then it happened a few more times, and then he texted you asking to come to his place for dinner, and you'd been confused but intrigued. Now you just felt silly.

"Y—Yeah. Of course. So, um, how—how are you?"

"Good. Just, you know, getting settled in the new apartment and finding my footing as a proper adult here and not a student. Did you know the Thai restaurant on 28th closed? I went..."

You listened to Harry as he spoke about moving back to the city, your eyes focusing on different parts of his face as you tried to determine which parts of him had changed and which stayed the same. Overall, he looked a little older, but that made sense seeing as a lot of time had passed since you'd last seen him. He had stubble on his cheeks and around his mouth as if he was trying to grow a mustache, something he definitely couldn't do when you were with him. His hair wasn't long anymore, but curled around his ears and reached just past the nape of his neck. He looked tanner, more muscular, more handsome. You could only hope he was thinking you looked more beautiful too.

"—about you?"

"Huh?" You hadn't realized that you zoned out the last few minutes.

Harry grinned, like he knew you'd gotten caught up in staring at him. "I was asking how you've been? Good, I hope? I mean, since I saw you two days ago, I mean."

Nodding, you took another sip of your wine, yet another thing that had changed since you were together. In school, it was whatever you could afford from the off-campus corner store. Now you were drinking from a bottle that had to be expensive. You couldn't even pronounce the label when Harry showed it to you.

"Good, I guess," you said. "Still in school, still working."

"At the MET, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. I'm doing guided tours right now, but once I get my master's I can start doing more research-based stuff."

"That's exciting. I know you've always wanted to work there," Harry said, inching closer to you on the sofa. It was currently the only piece of furniture set up in his apartment besides his bed. He'd apologized when you arrived thirty minutes ago. You didn't mind, though maybe you should've. Maybe this really was just a catch-up, not a hookup. When Harry invited you to come over, you thought there might've been some subliminal messaging, but he hadn't made a move, and the less-than-put-together apartment screamed that he wasn't trying to impress you.

Promptly, you attempted to drown your shame and embarrassment with a longer sip of wine.

"Thanks. You should stop by sometime. I get to give out free tours."

"I'd be happy to."

He hadn't done anything wrong, but now you just felt like an idiot. The entire time you were getting ready, you wondered where tonight would lead, debated if you should cancel or not because of said wondering. And in the end, maybe you should've because if tonight had told you anything so far, it was that you were hung up on your ex and all he thought of you was someone who could get him into the MET for free.

Tonight really had been a bad idea. Maybe even a terrible one.

"Um, is your restroom through there?" you asked, pointing at the shut door closest to you.

Harry looked over his shoulder to where you were pointing. "Yeah. Sorry, should've mentioned that earlier."

Setting your glass down on the floor, you stood up and hurried to the bathroom. You sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and pulled your phone out of your purse and shot a frantic text to Marissa.

You: i need you to call me with a fake emergency in five minutes.

Marissa: what? why? what's wrong?

You: i was an idiot

You: i'll explain when i get back

Marissa: five minutes?

You: make it four

Putting your phone away, you turned the faucet on so it seemed like you really had used the restroom. Now that Marissa was going to bail you out, all you had to do was finish your wine—it was really good, to be fair, so that wouldn't be a problem—and wait for her call. This night was not going in the direction you expected, and it was probably for the best to cut it short instead of letting it drag on. Dinner smelled amazing, and you'd wanted to share a meal with Harry more than anything, but now you just wanted to go home and wallow in your own stupidity.

When you came out of the bathroom, Harry was standing in his small kitchenette in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious in a saucepan. With his back turned, you let yourself stare unabashedly for a few seconds before picking up your wine glass and polishing off its contents. With the small clink of the glass being set on the counter, Harry turned around, dimples set deep in his cheeks as he grinned at you.

"Dinner should be ready in a few," he said. "Here, come taste."

You knew you shouldn't have, you'd already made enough slip-ups tonight as it was, but you walked the few steps to his side anyway, opening your mouth when he raised a spoon to your lips.

"Wow," you said, honest shock in your voice when you tasted what he'd given you.

"Good, right? I've picked up a couple tricks over the years," he said, pulling the towel off his shoulder and reaching down to open the stove and pull out a pan.

"Yeah, you could never cook like this when we—Is that lasagna?"

For the first time tonight, Harry seemed sheepish. "Yeah. I was kind of hoping it was still your favorite. You used to love the one from that small Italian place a couple blocks from campus."

Had you read the situation wrong? Harry wouldn't have just made what he thought was your favorite dish on a whim. It was possible he still considered this thing you were doing platonic, but you foolishly hoped you weren't the only one who had expectations.

"Y/n?"

"I—"

Before you could say anything, your phone rang. Damn it, you thought, pulling your phone out of your purse. You answered it, trying to quickly come up with a way to call off the fake emergency. "Hey, listen, now's not a good—"

"I'm locked out of our apartment!" Marissa cried dramatically. If Harry hadn't been watching you, you would've rolled your eyes. You loved your roommate, but she didn't need to wail. "You need to come back immediately or I'll freeze to death!"

"It's the middle of July, M," you said, trying to put some intention in your voice to let her know you were fine.

"You know I have poor circulation and it makes me cold!"

"Have you tried calling the super?"

"I need you!" she wailed again.

"Okay, okay. I'm on my way," you finally said. "See you in a few."

When you hung up, you looked up at Harry, apology dying on your lips when you saw the disappointed look on his face.

"That bad, huh?"

You knew he wasn't talking about the phone call. "Maybe it's just me, but things feel awkward between us. I think we should stick to coffee from now on, you know? That seems a lot more friendly than—"

If you'd had any doubts about where Harry's mind had been regarding tonight, they were completely wiped away when he surged forward and kissed you.

You told yourself the gasp was because you were surprised, not because it felt so good to kiss him again after so much time had passed, though that did not go unnoticed by you. Everything about his lips on yours felt achingly familiar. Harry parted your mouth with ease, his hands sliding down your waist and gripping firmly. Your body reacted almost of its own volition, every one of his touches garnered an immediate response. When he settled his teeth on your bottom lip, your hands gripped his hair, when his hands squeezed your body appreciatively, you wrapped a leg around his waist, when he finally detached his lips from yours and began kissing and licking a stripe down your neck, you sighed and arched your back into him.

It was too good to be true. The way you felt, how pliant your body immediately became, his hair as it tickled your chin the lower his kisses went. It lit you on fire, made you want to burn brighter.

"Har—Harry—"

You didn't even know what you were going to say, but Harry took it as you needing him. He raised his head back to yours, taking your bottom lip between his own and sucking, his thumbs dipping below the waistline of your jeans casually. You leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the fire and intensity from the first one, but Harry wouldn't move any faster. His kiss was slower now, more drawn out, like he was attempting to taste every inch of your lips and savor it. It left you even more breathless than before.

"You thought I didn't want this? Want you?" he said, his teeth nipping at a spot where the zipper on your sweater opened.

"I—"

"Thought that the smell of my favorite perfume on you wouldn't drive me absolutely mad the second you walked through the door? I've been trying to be polite. I've been trying to be a gentleman because it's been so long, but maybe we can skip the pleasantries, hm? What do you think, mon rêve?"

It all became too much as he began to grind his hips against yours. He was still taking his time, as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be at the moment, and to be honest, you didn't want to be anywhere else, either. Using the nickname he used to call you put you over the edge. My dream, he called you, because he swore no one in real life could be so perfect that he had to have been dreaming when you met.

Bad idea or not, you weren't going anywhere. Even if this was just one night, you would make it count.

But the buzz of your phone had you pulling away with a start.

"Don't," he murmured, pressing the word against your lips with his, slowly reaching for the hem of your sweater to pull it.over your head.

"She'll keep calling if I don't answer," you said, obliging Harry's hands and hoping he would understand what you were trying to say. You weren't going anywhere, but if you didn't answer now, Marissa would track you down and come here if she was under the impression you were in trouble.

"Don't go," he said this time, kissing the line of your jaw up to the shell of your ear. "Just stay."

"And what happens if I do?" you asked breathlessly.

This wasn't a rekindling of a relationship, you knew that. Perhaps it was the familiarity of your embrace in a city filled with millions of people making you both feel drawn to each other. You'd broken up a long time ago for reasons that had yet to be discussed, one night wasn't going to change the history you shared just like that. You knew that even as you got ready to come over to Harry's apartment tonight. This was just...

"Two people can reconnect, can't they?" Harry said. He hooked your other leg around his hip and sat you on the small counterspace, his eyes heavylidded as they roved your face. His gaze sent butterflies alight in your belly, making you feel things you hadn't felt in a long time.

Before you knew it, your ankles crossed over one another on the small of his back. Your hand carded through his hair, and you grinned a little when Harry shut his eyes at the feeling of your fingers against his scalp.

Phone call forgotten, you leaned in, but moved slightly so that you kissed the corner of Harry's mouth. You kissed him all over, starting with his cheek, then along his jaw to behind his ear where you knew he was sensitive, making sure to leave a mark, just because you could. You couldn't contain your smile as he groaned and pulled you closer, held you tighter.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a text. You didn't want to, and you could tell Harry didn't want you to, either, but you pulled away to look at it.

Marissa: hello?? i thought you were fleeing?!

"Are you?"

You held your phone close to your chest, having realized Harry read your text with you. Not letting him see the screen, you typed out a response, then locked it and set it down.

"This could be messy," you said, not sure why you were trying to talk yourself out of this. Or whom you were trying to talk out of this.

"Maybe," Harry said, running his thumb over your lip so that it separated and bounced back into place.

"And you're the one who said we were two friends catching up," you said.

"Friends hook up all the time," he said, undoing his belt with one hand while the other continued to play with you bottom lip. When he fiddled with the strap of your bra, you didn't stop him from gently urging it off your shoulder.

"I think—" the words died in your throat as Harry dipped his thumb past the seam of your lips, effectively shutting you up.

"And I think," he said, lifting you up and bringing you to the edge of his sofa. "I think I'd like dessert before dinner, What do you think, mon rêve?"

This whole evening screamed bad idea. There were too many tangled strings, too many unanswered questions, too many unknown variables. But Harry was already kissing his way down from your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin in all the spots that made you keen and your breath hitch. Maybe it was a bad idea, but you'd come over anyway. Might as well see it through.

"Fuck it, it's fine," you muttered, gripping Harry's hair between your fingers and directing his path of burning kisses with little care for the aftermath that was sure to bite you in the ass tomorrow.

*.*

Harry was gone the next morning. Disappointed? No. Surprised? Maybe. It definitely meant there wouldn't be an awkward goodbye, but it also meant this really was a one time thing.

Which was good. You got it out of your system, got him out of your system. Last night was just a trip down memory lane. An excellent trip, but it was over now.

You stretched your arms above your head, working out the aches and pains from last night's fun. It had been a while since you'd been sore from having sex, and you'd kind of missed it—knowing that the night before had been so good that it carried over into the next day. Days, sometimes.

Searching for something to cover you up, you spotted Harry's shirt from the night before. Walking around in one of his shirts wasn't what you were going for, but it would have to do until you found your own clothes. Sliding it over your head, you prepared to stand on wobbly legs when the turn of a lock sounded at the front door.

Frantically, you rubbed at your eyes and whipped the shirt back off before lying against the pillows again as if you were still asleep, which wasn't hard seeing as you were still exhausted. Your heart was racing as you heard Harry step into the room, humming as he fiddled with his keys and kicked off his shoes.

You figured he would wake you up, but he didn't. To your surprise, Harry slid back into his bed next to you, his arm snaking around your waist and lips sponging kisses onto your bare shoulder. "You awake?" he mumbled, his thumb rubbing circles on the warm skin just beneath your breast.

Pretended to wake up, you breathed in deep and said, "A little."

"I don't have a coffee maker yet, so I went down the street. There's a latte with your name on it in the kitchen."

You smiled wide without really meaning to. You'd been thinking he'd just left to avoid an awkward conversation, but it seemed like you were both eager to put it off as long as possible. Shifting in Harry's arms, you turned to face him through half-opened eyes. His hair hung in his face, grazing the sunglasses he'd yet to take off. His sweatshirt was a little cold to the touch from being outside, making you shiver a little.

"Are you cold? Here." Harry pulled the sweatshirt over his head and helped you fit it over your head, which still had your hair wrapped in a silk scarf from last night.

When it was on, you grinned at the feeling of his warmth wrapped around you, of a cologne that was foreign to you but just as head-spinning. Reaching up a hand to his face, your fingers grazed his sunglasses. "What are these for?"

"My terribly embarrassing dark circles. I get those now," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a grin.

"Hm."

You weren't sure if he was in the mood to chat or drink the coffee he bought, but now that you were facing the broad expanse of his chest, all the tattoos that were familiar and the ones that weren't, you didn't want to do either of those things. Leaning forward, you kissed his chest, creating a path with your lips all across his body. Harry's stomach flexed, and you could feel the quickened beat of his heart when you passed over it. It made you grin as you worked your way down and sucked a hickey on his hip.

"You can tell me to stop," you said, just before reaching the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, prepared to do away with both of them in one go.

"I don't want you to," Harry panted. He groaned at the cold air as you rid him of his clothes. "Still—Fuck, Y/n—Still reconnecting?"

You nodded, too caught up in what you were doing to speak. After a few minutes, though, just as you felt he was close, you inched your way back up and kissed him, your leg sliding over his waist.

"Yeah. Reconnecting."

*.*

"Harry?"

When you came home later that morning, Marissa was already awake and waiting as you walked through the door in your jeans and a hoodie that definitely didn't belong to you. She took one look at the sweatshirt and shook her head at you with a sigh.

"Yeah."

"He's the one you've been meeting for coffee?"

You hung your head. "Yeah. He moved back about two weeks ago."

Marissa slid you a mug filled with steaming black coffee, the smell alone waking you up slightly and bringing common sense back to your brain. You took it between your hands appreciatively, blowing over the top instead of meeting her eye.

"You know this isn't going to end well, right?"

Now it was your turn to sigh. "Yeah."

But fuck if it didn't feel right.

[mysticheathenn]

Messages From The Art of Not Giving a F*ck

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is all about messages from things that you should not be caring or giving a f*ck about. This could be you having the fear of being seen. What does the world think of you at the gym? Basically, petty things that stop you from living your life.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

Pile l:

What should you not give a f*uck about? Tarot: 8 of Cups, 7 of Wands (reversed), Awakening, 9 of Cups, The High Priestess

The opinions of others concerning any and everything you do. You are meant to shine and show up as your most authentic self pile l. You do not need anyone's permission, advice, or even guidance on knowing who you are or what you should do with your life especially if these people are doing the exact opposite of what they try to preach to you. For some of you, I am getting that there is a family member or even just family in general who likes to dictate everything that you do and who you are. While I can't tell you what to do and can only provide you guidance for your situation, please ask yourself are these people happy? Do they ask anyone what they should do with their life and who they should be? Are they paying any bill of yours or financially supporting you? If you have answered no to any of these questions, my suggestion and only suggestion and opinion is to stop paying attention to anything that comes out of their mouth when it regards to you. I have a story for you once upon a time a little mystic heathen had parents and family who would dictate and tell little heathen what to do up until it got time to actually put their money where their mouth was and would back out while telling little heathen still what to do. Little heathen wanted to major in English while her parents medicine or computer science. It wasn't until little heathen saw that no one was paying the bills but herself that the only opinion that mattered with what she majored in, where to move, what career, and who I should be friends with was the opinion of her own. She broke free and stopped giving a dam because once you give someone the power to mold and control you it never stops. Unless the opinion from others saw red flags that I did not see everyone's opinion or suggestions could fuck off. Again this is all a suggestion and my opinion as you're an adult and can make your decisions for yourself but if you have been looking for a sign as to what you should do, this is it. Be free and release yourself from the holds of others that hold you at a standstill or make you unhappy.

Pile ll:

What should you not give a f*uck about? Tarot: 10 of Pentacles (Reversed), 2 of Cups, Queen of Cups, 5 of Swords (reversed), Knight of Cups, Queen of Wands (reversed)

Validation from romantic partnerships. I get the strong feeling from this pile that you love to watch and read future spouse pick-a-card readings. No matter the topic of love when it comes to tarot you are there waiting to see what it has in store for you. It is also similar to how you are in a relationship. You see the validation from your partners that you are good enough. Some of you might even have a small bit of pick-me energy. Whenever your partner says jump you don't ask how high you keep jumping and ask them if this is good enough and if it's not you keep jumping higher until they are satisfied not realizing that you, darling, are the prize. People should be jumping through hoops for you and not the other way around unless the energy is being reciprocated but I need you to understand that you are powerful just you alone without the opinion or approval of a love interest. You don't need anyone by your side at all. I know you're thinking I know I don't need anyone but I want someone...do you know pile ll. Do you really know that you don't need anyone? You are the Queen of Wands and the Queen of cups pile ll, you turn a house into a home, food into a cooked meal, etc. Anything someone gives you, you multiply it and tax interest and you are out here answering questions like "What do you bring to the table?" as if you aren't the table, the napkins, silverware, plates, and whole packaged deal. See yourself through the lens of a goddess/god. You are powerful, start acting like it, and stop putting yourself through hoops for someone who wouldn't do the same or doesn't even wash their own ass not knowing their shit stinks, they are no one special.

Pile lll:

What should you not give a f*uck about? Tarot: 2 of Cups, 3 of Swords, 6 of Cups, 6 of Pentacles, The Wheel

Pile lll you may have also been slightly drawn to pile ll as both your piles kind of go hand in hand. Pile ll is all about validation from being in a romantic relationship while yours is simply you acting as if being single is the worst thing in the world. As mentioned in Pile ll you probably watch and read a lot of love and Future Spouse pick-a-card readings because you have a hard time being by yourself. If not pick a card readings you read a lot of romance novels. Your favorite authors are probably Emily Henry, Ana Huang, Ali Hazelwood, Lauren Asher, Elsie Silver, etc. You watch as others around you fall in and out of love and you want that for yourself. If romance was oxygen you would die the moment you're not with someone within .5 seconds and I need you to release the need for romance just for a split second. Enjoy singlehood and realize that not everything is about love. There is more to life than being in a partnership with someone. You may not think that but have you tried and I mean really tried to enjoy being single? Travel to other places, dining out alone, watching a movie all without someone constantly talking or ruining the moment with spoilers. This message is only for a small few of you as it is very specific but you need to leave your ex alone. Stop thinking, dreaming, looking at their social media, or even reaching out to them. What's done is done...don't let someone tell you they don't want you more than once. This also goes out to those who are in situationships wanting a relationship from their person. They are telling you with their actions for some time now that they don't like you they just want you for your body and the things you can do for them. You are a placeholder until they find that person they want a commitment from. That was a specific message for those who resonated with the message but to continue on with the general reading love is beautiful, kind, and sweet, but it's not the end of the world if you don't have someone by your side. You are free to live life beautifully without someone else there to witness it. You remind me of the era when everyone would always post that they were going to the gym on Facebook and the meme was "If you don't post that you're at the gym, did you even go." If you have fun without someone being there with you to also have fun...did it even happen. Yes...yes it did pile lll. One day you will find a beautiful and harmonious relationship but until then enjoy singlehood. Also, give the love readings a break. Go outside and touch the grass for 30 mins everything will be fine.

Pile lV:

What should you not give a f*uck about? Tarot: 3 of words, The emperor, Ace of Swords (reversed), Page of Swords (reversed), The Empress (reversed)

Pile lV You are my only pile where I have to tell you to give a f*ck about something. You've been through heartache, after heartache, and loss to the point you have closed off your heart to the world because of how many times you have been hurt. This is leading you down a path where sometimes you can't focus or make the best decision because you have closed off your heart to the world or even love in general that anything where you need to involve feelings, showing a small bit of compassion, or even empathy goes out the window. Sometimes even logic goes out the window because you are so strung on not getting yourself tangled up in anything where it could lead to heartache or betrayal. For most of you I am getting this is a relationship or several might I add. While others of you probably had a shining light. You were a lighthouse pouring your beautiful light, energy, and guidance out onto the world for others to take advantage of you and make you cold, aggressive, or deemed in the eyes of a few, an asshole. I need to remind you that it is okay to open your heart to others or even love again Pile lV. I get it, it's scary thinking about the chances of being hurt again but I have to remind you that, this is part of life. You get knocked down and you get back up again but don't harden yourself off to the world. Not when the world needs so much kindness and love right now. There is already so much hate and lack of compassion in this world, open yourself up again even if it is for a little bit or for certain situations. The things that happened to you weren't meant to harden you up but to teach you lessons about boundaries and having self-respect and love for yourself. Instead, you hardened up instead of doing the work that is necessary to establish standards and boundaries for yourself. Do the work. Open yourself up again. The world needs your kind and gentle heart the way it was always intended.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

[holylulusworld]

Cabin at the lake

Summary: You have a much-needed vacation. There’s only one problem…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Assistant!Reader´

Warnings: SB being an ass, tension, arguments, vacation hijacking (is that a thing?), sexual themes (talk about)

Cabin at the lake masterlist

The cabin at the lake. Your shelter from the storm. A sentimental place that your grandfather left you in his last will.

You love to sip on your tea, and to sit next to the bonfire, wrapped in a warm blanket as the sun sets over the horizon.

For once, you forget about your stressful job and your demanding boss. A supe on top of all. The new leader of the seven. Soldier Boy. The nightmare on bowed legs.

If he could, he’d let you jump through hoops of flames. Just not for the next two weeks. You’re on vacation and can forget about your boss for a while.

You close your eyes and inhale the clear but cold air deeply. It smells like pines, water, and earth.

You smile as memories of your grandparents flash up in your mind.

You’re almost at peace. Almost.

“There you are.”

No. This can’t be. Even here, in the most peaceful place, you can hear his voice in your head. Crap, you can even smell him and feel his breath in your neck.

Wait…

Your eyes snap open when someone snatches the cup of tea out of your hands to gulp it down in one go. “What?”

“Here you are, enjoy tea while I was out there, saving the world,” your boss, Soldier Boy himself nags and throws the cup over his shoulder. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“Sir,” you look at him, shocked about his presence in your solitude, “I told you that I’m going on vacation for two weeks. Sonja will assist you while I’m away.”

“Sonja?” He curls his upper lip in disgust. “She was a bad lay, nothing else. That girl can’t even get my coffee order right. You must come back. Now!” He snaps his gloved fingers.

Soldier Boy didn’t waste time. The moment he found out about your whereabouts, he left and drove to your location. He’s still in his suit, his shield tugged under one arm.

“Sir,” you try not to sound too annoyed, “I have the right to go on vacation. I haven’t had a day off since I started working for you. You keep me occupied even on weekends. I need a break.”

“You need a break?” He huffs as he looks at the lake. “Hmm…a break wouldn’t be too bad.”

Before you can protest he rams the shield into the ground next to your feet. He takes his gloves off, tossing them into your lap before he plops down into the free seat.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m on vacation,” he leans back and closes his eyes. “After I had a nap, I want the good stuff and food. Omelet would be great.”

“Sir! This is inappropriate! You can't hijack my vacation!”

“Why not?” He turns his head to grin at you. “Only you, me, and the lake will know what we did here.”

You gulp hard at the implication. “I must ask you to leave.”

“I must ask you to shut your mouth, or—” he leans toward you and smirks, “do you want me to put those pretty lips to better use.”

“We talked about sexual harassment last month,” you sigh. “Did you forget all about it?”

“Aw, sweetness,” he grins. “You’d know if I fucked your pretty cunt.”

You roll your eyes and huff. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know,” he purrs and looks you up and down. “You’ll believe you can fly after I fucked you for the first time. It’s like a drug you never want to get off.”

You gape at him.

“Let me have a nap first. I drove for hours to find you,” he leans back and closes his eyes. “And don’t think I forgot about the omelet…”

>> Cabin at the lake (2)

Tags in reblog.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #17] Jeon Jungkook

warnings: WELL WELL WELL. mentions of the red witch. post-gym kook. questionable conversations that shouldn't happen between friends, totally normal touching of genitals to prove points in aforementioned conversations, kitchen escapades, whiny koo <3 titty worship, spanking, titty sucking, fingering, a lil mutual masturbation, cockwarming (or at least an attempt!), unprotected sex, jk on top, the starluvrs are bad at maths!, multiple positions (prone bone my beloved <3), he finishes on her back, lovely stuff!! just friendly tho!

a/n: the header image is another lost relic, but this time i can't even remember the base photo </3

soundtrack: just a little bit - enhypen

wc: 11.2k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

The soft cotton duvet cover on Jeongguk's bed welcomes you back far more warmly than it really should do; like a 'hi, honey, welcome home' , or an 'I've missed you'.  

It's fitting that the inanimate objects of his room carry such benevolence, when he himself is an open log fire on a winter's night. Warm, warm, warm is Jeon Jeongguk, and you've been cold, cold, cold for so long that the sudden heat is almost jarring.

That's how you justify the obscure feeling in the pit of your stomach when Jeongguk starts talking about blind dates, and how he always wanted to go on one when he was younger.

He reckons that the only reason that he hadn't was because he's 'a simple man of simple pleasures'.  

The hoops he needed to jump through to get a blind date - quite simply just asking someone to set it up for him - had been too challenging. You've alleviated that stress for him.

"See," you smile, folding his bird back up and tossing it over to him. You're both on his bed, staring up at the flock of birds still soaring above you, just out of reach. "We're fulfilling a childhood dream. You are getting something out of this whole deal."

You don't look at him, but you know he rolls his eyes and smiles when he does so. "Never said I wasn't, Disco Ball."

He's met with silence as you glance over at him. It's not an unwelcome nickname, but it's one he doesn't use too often these days. Always calls you Byeol.

"What?" he asks and he turns to face you when you don't reply, but you say nothing.

The more you let it simmer, the worse it gets. He's not called you Disco Ball in so long. Part of you thinks he's reducing your friendship. Addressing you like he did when he didn't know you too well. Creating distance. Forming space on a featherdown quilt that draws you both in like quicksand. He'll have to try harder if a wider margin is what he's after.

It's stupid, 'cause you know the name comes from a place of affection, but it makes you feel insecure.

"We'll still be friends, right?" You ask a little quietly. Jeongguk's brows grow taut, a slight frown forming on his features. Doesn't understand where such a question has come from. "If you get a girlfriend, I mean? We can still be friends?"

Jeongguk's skin is hot. Prickly. An automatic response to discomfort - but then his lips soften into a kind smile. Despite the offence that could be taken from you asking such a question - thinking so little of him - he's not naive to the way in which you work. He understands. People you've loved have left when things got inconvenient for them. He's been through it, too.

And so the walls that want to come up in defence are kept at bay. He doesn't let them rise. Instead, he meets you at the shores.

"Yoongi invited you to dinner," he nudges your shoulder. "Tae is practically in love with you for all the help you've given him. Dionysus relies on you drinking the bar dry every other weekend to keep it afloat. We couldn't stop being friends even if we tried."

His answer should satisfy you, yet your mind is marred by the same thought repeating over and over: Hayun probably used to get invited to dinner, too.

You aren't naive. You know his friends are just as kind as he is. They'd have welcomed anyone Jeongguk deemed important into their social circle.

"What about Hayun?"

Jeongguk frowns. "What about her?"

"Well," you say slowly, looking back up towards the birds, not wanting to watch his reaction unfold on his features like a letter of commiseration.

Before you can even articulate a reply, Jeongguk stops you.

"Don't. It's not the same. Hayun... That situation was different. Things were different. Plus, she's still my friend. Our friend. All of us. She just lives in a different city, that's all. The only reason she isn't around is because of proximity. We're still friends. Just like you and me are still gonna be friends. We've no reason not to be."

The situation is different. You're well aware of this. You've known Jeongguk for all of five minutes; she was a much more permanent fixture in his life. They had a history that you wouldn't even be able to comprehend; private jokes, and stolen moments when they thought their friends wouldn't notice. Their friends. Not just Jeongguk's.

She'd been as much a part of the friendship group as Jeongguk had been; the only difference was that she'd moved away. If she hadn't, would there even be space for you in their lives? Would Seoyeon be desperate for there to be another girl around? Would Jeongguk have felt just as fondly towards you? Would he have noticed your disco ball eyes in the dark of Dionysus or would he have been too busy searching for her in a crowded room?

Or would the time spent on you be spent on her instead?

The thought is unpleasant. It weaves its way through your bloodstream like a needle with dark red string threaded through its loop. It scratches and stabs at your insides until it breaks through the flesh of your bottom lip. Sews your mouth shut. Stops you from talking; from screaming how unfair you think it is that you're being equated to someone who destroyed him.

You don't think she deserves to be thought fondly of, but if Jeongguk knew that, you'd be the one he thinks negatively of. He leapt to her defence without you even starting an attack.

"Friends don't hurt their friends," you say quietly.

Life doesn't work that way. People hurt the ones they care about all the time - or at least you use that reasoning to comfort yourself whenever Seokjin shows up just to let you down.

"She didn't mean to," he replies. "I'm the one who caught feelings. I'm the one who misread things. She stayed the same. My hurt? It's on me, Byeol."

There's a sincerity to his voice that absolves her of blame; makes her innocent in whatever transpired between the pair of them. You know that you only have Jeongguk's side of the story, and even that is sparse and limited due to his reluctance to talk about it in any great depth, but you feel like you don't need to hear her side. He got hurt. That's enough. Your mind is made up.

Hearing him defend her so freely unnerves you. The feeling crawls beneath your skin and gnaws at your flesh. Reduces you to skin and bone.

You're silent, because you know that anything you do say will come across as mean, or as if you dislike a girl you've never met. It'd only make Jeongguk defend her more and like you less. You don't want that - as if Jeongguk wouldn't rip Seokjin to shreds at any given opportunity.

Trouble is, you can't blame him. Jeongguk has seen the impact first-hand. Wiped away tears caused by the man himself.

Hayun is just an enigma; a name rarely said, but often felt.

"What's gotten into you?" Jeongguk smiles, trying to downplay the heaviness of the atmosphere that's engulfing you both. "You're forgetting how annoying I am. You'd probably be thankful if we stopped being friends."

Though he's just teasing, you're worried that he does think that of himself. You don't want to be soppy though, so instead, you use one of his most often said phrases against him.

"I think if we stopped being friends I would simply die."

It earns a laugh. He nudges your shoulder. Tells you that you really gotta stop stealing his catchphrases and the things he does.

"Oh fuck off," you laugh. "What else have I stolen?"

A whole host of things.

"The mirror thing," is all he says, noticing your confusion immediately. He reaches over and tenderly clasps your chin. Doesn't notice the tiny gasp that gets caught in your throat - or if he does, he doesn't mention it. Turns your head, so that you're looking at him, and says " 'watch'. "

You close your eyes and smile. Nod. "Ah. That. The mirror thing. "

"See," he smirks, not that you can see. Your eyes are still closed and they'll remain that way until you decide you're no longer embarrassed. "Told you that you copy me."

"I don't copy," you smirk right back, despite your firmly shut eyes. Jeongguk likes the glitter you're wearing today. It's golden-hued. "Just a fast learner."

"Oh yeah?" he says, a laugh catching in his throat. "Watcha learnt about me?"

You whisper now, a little smug. "That you really like mirrors."

"Yeah," he concedes far more quickly than you expected him to. He turns his focus back to the birds on his ceiling, though you think he's gotten a little closer to you. "Yeah, you're right about that - but you know why I like them?"

"Pray tell," you grin, vaguely aware of the fact the conversation feels far more flirty than it really should.

"You do this thing," Jeongguk says, as a hand rests by his crotch. He's not hard, but he is a little firmer than he should be.

It's just cause he's thinking about sex. Thinking about the sound of it. The sound of you . The sight of it. Of you . The scent of it. You . Not the taste, 'cause you've not given him the luxury of that yet. He doesn't really register the fact he's pressing down on himself. Gripping. Feeling .

"It's that first look," he continues, voice dulcet. "It's like you can't register what you're seeing. Your eyes go all wide, and you look at me as if you're too nervous to look anywhere else. Dunno. Lets me know how much you like what I do. Bit of a power trip, I guess. Always gets me."

"Gets you what?"

"Hard."

The declaration is so brash that you can't help but giggle. "You hard now?"

"Thinking about it isn't the same as seeing it," Jeongguk admits, turning his head towards you - but your eyes are still closed, a smile plastered all over your face. He finds himself smiling, too. 

"But I mean..." He toys with your hand. Draws it to the top of his thighs. Gives you the chance to pull away. You don't. "Feel for yourself."

You whisper his name. 

He whispers right back. "What?"

"You know what," you tell him, as if your palm isn't right where he left it, and as if your grip isn't as firm as his cock. 

"What?" he teases again, feigning indifference - and then he fucking tenses. Moves his hips. Pushes up into your palm. "It's just anatomy, B. Nothing new."

Maybe not, but that nickname? That feels new. Feels like the opposite of him calling you disco ball earlier. Makes your breath hitch. Has him smirking as he looks at your lips. Bites down on his own. Knows this is trouble, but thinks he'd quite like to get in some.

See, you're the determined type. Once you set your mind to things, you do them. He's witnessed it first-hand multiple times. The second he mentioned the art cafe to Tae, he knew you'd make it happen. It's what you do.

And so he knows that you're setting him up that blind date whether he likes it or not. He knows you're gonna choose well for him. He knows, come this time next week, there'll probably be a moral complex that comes with the birds hanging above the pair of you.

But he's not ready for that. Not yet. 

There's so much to do. 

So many birds that haven't been set free.

A pleasant little hum vibrates in his throat as you palm the firmness beneath his sweats. His hips pulse. You daren't open your eyes - especially not as your thumb brushes against the waistband of his trousers. He hums again. Pushes his shoulders down into his mattress. Adjusts his body. Edges closer to you. Says nothing as your thumb sinks beneath the elastic of his sweats.

It doesn't go anywhere. You wait. His hips pulse.

"Swear you get off on torture," he purrs. 

"You're the one who started this," you murmur, trying to feign indifference, knowing full well that if he mirrors your hand position, he'll feel just how easily he gets you all riled up. "You're a sadist."

He just smiles. Tells you he's no such thing. 

And so you tell him to keep his eyes closed. Reach for his hand. Say, "Let's compare."

"Compare?" He husks, as if he doesn't know what you're doing. 

"Mhmm," you hum, bringing his hand dangerously close to your pussy. "Compare. You're getting off on torture. Maybe I am, too."

"We shouldn't be doing this," Jeongguk says, and yet as you loosen your grip, he's the one who lets his hand trail up your thigh. He's the one who strokes at the fabric of your sweats. He's the one who cups your pussy with his hand.

The top you're wearing has risen up a little, a small sliver of your stomach exposed - and then his thumb is caressing against it. 

His touch is warm, but the little gasp he does? The stutter of his breath? Oh, it's hot . So fucking hot.

"We're not doing anything," you say so sweetly that he'd believe it - or at least he would if it wasn't his own damn hand slipping into trousers. A breath hitches in your throat, and you can hear the ethereal way a laugh stutters in his throat.

"Just friendly, yeah?"

You nod. Whimper a pathetic confirmation - and then he's pressing against your underwear. Is slow as he rubs a single circular motion against you. 

"The birds are judging us," he tells you. 

"Nah," you shake your head. Take a shallow breath as he circles against you once more. "This is just revision."

"Revision?"

"Making sure we've learned from them. As long as - fuck ."

"You good there?" he teases, as if he didn't just up the speed for a moment. 

You ignore his question and continue the point that was so rudely interrupted by his pacing. "As long as we only do things the birds have already told us to do, then I think it's okay."

The pair of you are silent save for your tepid breaths. Jeongguk's fingers caress against the lace of your underwear while you palm at his excruciatingly hard cock. 

It's all rather juvenile, the way you're just touching each other up - and yet it's got your heartbeat racing. Perhaps it's because it's something so simple. Feels like there's so much more that could come of it. The great unknown: will you make Jeongguk cum? Or will you just blue ball him instead?

He really fucking hopes you'll choose the first option.

"Y'know," he says quietly. "I kinda need a shower."

It's not a lie. He freshened up at the gym, but didn't have a proper shower - didn't think he'd be taking such a long detour home.

"You wanna go shower?"

He nods. "Please."

It's laughable, really, the way neither of you says a word as he guides you to the bathroom. It's a regular occurrence at this point. 

You glance across the open-plan living room as you make your way to the bathroom, and smile at the painting hanging up beside the television. Jeongguk follows your gaze and smirks. 

"Think a future girlfriend would have an issue with that being up on the wall?"

"Maybe," you shrug. "You never have to tell her what is it, mind you. Never have to say it's... yanno."

"No I don't know, Byeol," he teases. Grips onto your shoulders to stop you from walking, and turns you to face it. Walks you both a little further into the sitting room area. Tilts his head, and you realise there's another bloody mirror in the corner of the room. You've never noticed it before. Wonder if he placed it there deliberately. "What is it?"

You narrow your eyes in the mirror. A smirk rests on his pretty lips and you can't help but bite down on yours when one of his hands creeps up your shirt. The bra you're wearing is lace; underwired but with unstructured cups. He squeezes. Fucking groans. "Shit."

"We shouldn't be doing this here," you tell him, well aware that Jimin could come home at any minute. Even going for a shower together is a risk. 

Jeongguk shrugs. "Doesn't matter."

"What if Jimin-"

"If he comes home, he comes home," Jeongguk cuts you off as he continues playing with you beneath your shirt. He wants it off. Takes it off. Faces no opposition from you. Both of his hands cup at your chest, the black lace sin beneath his hands. Your heartbeat heaves in your chest, and it's only made worse when Jeongguk nudges his nose against your hair and whispers, "maybe I'll just show him how to make you cum."

You tell him he's mean. He squeezes harder. Makes you whimper. Tells you he can be mean if you really want him to be.

But you shake your head. "Play nicely."

It's not that you don't like things a little rough and tumble - it's just that if this is the last time, you know it needs to be intimate. How else will you be able to face your fears with other people if you never even let him?

One of his hands trails to the back of your bra, and gently unsnaps the clasp, before ridding you of the lace. As much as he liked it, he likes you bare better. Likes the way your pillowy breasts frame your nipples perfectly. Likes that the soft flesh spills through the gaps in his fingers. Likes how easy it is to get you whimpering as he rolls your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

"Nice enough?" He husks.

"Nice," you nod, eyes closed, crown of your head tipping back to rest against the top of his chest. "God, Gguk. Think I'm obsessed with the way your hands feel."

The compliment makes his heart fucking race .

He watches in the mirror. Studies the way your lips part as he toys with you. Wants to kiss you so badly. Knows he can't. Fuck . Maybe he does get off on a little torture, but this is just inhumane to him. You can feel how hard he is as he presses into the small of your back. The curse and blessing of sweatpants. 

You reach behind yourself to palm at his crotch, and are met with a nod of his head against yours. 

"Fuck, B," he whines as you toy with the outline of his cock. "I gotta - fuck - I gotta do something with my mouth. Wanna kiss you too fuckin' bad."

He doesn't even mean to admit it, but now that he has, he feels a little shameless. If he can admit that, he can admit anything. 

Maybe he'll tell you about the wet dream he had a few nights ago, and how he'd woken up to damp sheets and a ruined orgasm all because you'd made an unexpected appearance in his dream. 

Maybe he'll tell you about the fact he hasn't watched porn in weeks. Just thinks of you, instead.

Maybe he'll tell you about the fleshlight hidden in the back of his bedside cabinet drawer, and how he can't use it anymore, 'cause it doesn't look like you do.

Doesn't look like you, doesn't feel like you, doesn't smell like you. Doesn't get him cumming like you do. 

Actually, maybe he won't tell you about that last one - but he wants you to know. 

Wants you to understand just how fucking sexy he thinks you are. Wants you to acknowledge that if he can get this wrecked over you, then there must be hundreds of other men out there just the same as him. You don't need to linger for so long on your ex. 

There'll be another guy out there for you who doesn't make you feel like shit; who only ever wants to make you feel good. So good. So, so-

"Oh God, yeah," he whines as you finally slip your fingers beneath his waistband and into his trousers. His hips pulse, wanting more, more, more of you. "So fucking good."

"My lips," you husk as his fingers dig into your soft chest. The grip is tight. Needy. "They're off limits."

"Lips," he nods. Clenches his jaw as he tries to control his breathing. Swallows his nerves down. "And the rest of you?"

You open your eyes to find his already on you in the mirror. He's hungry. Wanting. Salivating. He looks fucking primal, as if he's fighting every instinct he has just to keep your boundaries respected. Makes you wanna break every single one of them down.

Turning your head ever so slightly, just so your nose can nudge against his, you realign your faces. His lips are pouty. Pink. Pretty. Perfectly out of reach. Yet when you nod, they brush against yours tenderly. You don't let it happen again. "Be specific."

God, his cock is too fucking hard to be playing games like this. He wants to curse you out. Wants to be fucking mean. Wants to tell you to stop being a little bitch and just let him have his way with you - but he promised he'd play nicely. 

"Every inch of your skin," he says, 'cause he is actually a little too nervous to ask so politely for what he really wants.

Has been wanting it for weeks.

It's something new, to him. Something he's only ever asked for once, and it was in the heat of the moment. A moment quite a lot like this.

You smile. You know what he really wants. "That's not specific."

"But it's the truth."

Jeongguk always gets a little like this when he's riled up. A little needy. Whiney. You'd be a liar if you said you didn't enjoy it, but you know that sometimes he misspeaks. Says things he never would do if he wasn't desperately after a release. 

You never think he's lying, but you do think what he wants in the heat of the moment isn't always what he wants with a clear mind. This is one of those moments.

You purr, a little satisfied with how easy it is to get him like this. Feels like you're in control - so Jeongguk rolls your nipples between his fingers again to get you moaning. Realigns a sense of power. It's endless with the pair of you; a back-and-forth of control. It works well. Too well.

But he's feeling brazen, now. Feeling bold. Isn't nervous to tell you what he wants anymore, because the way your body reacts to his touch lets him know that you'll like it.

"Your tits, Byeol," he says. Your eyes fall to his in the mirror. He's looking directly at you. Notices the way your chest begins to heave a little heavier. Smirks. "If this is my last chance to..." he pauses. Is almost ashamed of what he wants.

"Last chance to what?" You flirt.

You bitch. You're teasing him just because you can. It makes him throb. The motion of your hand stroking above his underwear is making his cock all fat and leaky. There's a damp patch on the front of his briefs. He's ready to fuck. Wants to fuck.

But before that? Before he can even consider sinking himself into you? 

He (regretfully) pulls one of his hands away from you, bringing it to meet your hand in his trousers. He (even more regretfully) pulls you away. You pout. He smiles. 

"C'mon," he says, pulling on the hand he's just removed, leading you into the kitchen area. Will clarify it for you later.

The boys have an island that acts as a divider between the two spaces, which is exactly where he's taking you. The clothes he took off you are left by the sofa, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only: leveraging you into a better position.

You yelp a little as he dips to pick you up, gripping the back of his neck without hesitation. 

"Don't be a pussy," he grins, popping you down on the island counter. "Although now I come to think of it -" he lifts you again, getting to your feet. The way his mind darts from thought to thought, and how his body acts upon them without warning, makes you laugh. He sinks his finger into the waistband of your sweats. Pings it again your skin. "Off."

"Say please," you demand, just to be a little difficult. 

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please," he says, eyes dark as he towers over you, his hands coming to cup your chest once more. The man's obsessed, you think. If he could read your mind, he'd tell you that you're correct. He is. "Take your trousers off."

"Why?"

God, he hates that shit-eating grin of yours. Hates that he can't kiss it away. 

And so he decides he's not gonna entertain it any longer. He grabs your hips. Spins you around. Bends you over the island, a single hand gripping the top of your thigh, the other pressing down between your shoulder blades. 

"What's the word, Byeol?" He asks, checking that you're on the same page.

"Chess," you reply a little breathlessly. This lack of control is something you're used to with him. He's never overtly dominant, always looking out for your needs first and foremost, but this feels... yeah this feels different. This is about him. 

And it makes you far more excited than you ever realised it would.

His hand trails down your back. Strokes at the line of your spine. He admires you. Takes note of the dimples just above your ass. Knows he's in trouble the second he starts squeezing at one of your cheeks. Still an ass guy.

He yanks the material of your sweats down past your ass. Fucking groans when he sees the black lace thong that sits prettily over your ass. Glances over to the bra by his sofa. Groans yet again. Yep . A matching fucking set. 

"Fuckin' vixen," he mumbles to himself, not really intending for you to hear it. Isn't sure if you had planned on getting laid today, but you're definitely dressed for it. As he grapples with the flesh of your ass, he notices just how smooth your skin is. Well moisturised. Coconutty. 

Maybe you had taken extra care in the shower that morning. Maybe you had shaved your entire body. Maybe you had been wearing a new two-piece.

That doesn't mean you were planning on letting him see. Just means your self-care routine is coming along fabulously. Well done you.

There's a bruise on the top of your hip. Jeongguk's thumb brushes against it. Doesn't apply any pressure. A small noise chirps from his throat, questioning it. 

"Pole," you remind him a little breathlessly. "Gentle with my legs, they're covered in bruises."

He nods to himself, and says, "Use 'chess' okay? Hey, look at me a sec - 'chess'. Okay? Even if it's just your legs. Don't wanna hurt you."

You're looking at him over your shoulder with a smile. His sincerity is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You want him to hurt you.

"Notice how there are no bruises on my ass?" you ask, to which he nods. You face away from him again, and sink back into the position he originally had you in, chest pressed to the counter. "Good. Change that."

He thinks he might cream his pants right there and then. 

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me."

"Oh no," you pout, voice all soft and sweet. "Wouldn't that be a shame?"

Jeongguk grapples with your ass. Caresses it. Knows you're not done talking, so is buying time. Wants to hear how you'll tease him. See how riled up it''ll get him. 

"If you die, I'll just have to fuck Jimin again."

The crack of his palm against your ass is electric. 

Your body jolts forward, Jeongguk's grip on your hip to keep you stable no match for the impact of his flat palm. Skin on fire, chest heaving, you giggle. That's all he's got?

"Y'know," you tease, and Jeongguk is pleased that you sound a little breathless. He strokes at the skin he impacted, soothing the sting. Likes that goosebumps are already forming. "He took me from behind, a lot like thi-"

He doesn't even let you finish this time before the sting of his spank is delivered. It's harder than the first one, but his hand is also far quicker to soothe this time around. 

"Yeah," he husks. "I fuckin' know."

You can hear his breathing, now. You're both panting a little. 

"Does it bother you?" you ask as he tenderly cares for your reddening skin. 

"Be specific," he speaks boldly, a little unlike himself, and you're starting to understand why he's an ass guy. Your tits make him weak. This? The way he's got control of your body? Makes him strong. 

"That I fucked Ji-"

The way he cuts you off with another domineering slap to your ass gives you his answer - but so does the way he not only soothes the skin immediately afterwards, but also how his other hand comes to rub the bottom of your spine, following the path of its curve. He's cherishing. Worshipping. 

He leans forward as his hand trails up your spine so he can reach your neck, and tenderly clasps it to he pull you back up. Turns you around. Is gentle as he lifts you back into position on the counter. 

Brushes your hair out of your face. Looks you directly in the eye. Uses this thumb to collect a rogue chunk of glitter from your cheek. Rubs it on his arm. Stains himself in you.

"It doesn't bother me," he says - not for any male sense of bravado, or acting 'chill' - but because he needs you to know it isn't a big deal. You've enough complexes as it is. He doesn't want you to ever feel shame for the things you've done. "Bothers me that he doesn't realise how lucky he was to get a pussy as good as yours. Bothers me he didn't finish the job. Bothers me that he actually got to fuck you," he grins. You grin right back. "But it doesn't bother me that it happened."

"Mm, so you won't share towels with him, but you'll share girls?" You tease. His hands toy with your chest again. Secretly, you think you like him better like this. Like it when he's weak.

"Am I sharing you?"

It's a loaded question, you think.

"Not right now," you whisper, reaching to his waistband, nose nudging against his. "Take these off."

"Say please," he whispers right back. One of your hands tangles in his hair. Pulls him away. Gets him looking into your eyes.

"Please."

How can he refuse? It's like you put him in a trance whenever he sees your disco-ball eyes. He'll do whatever you ask of him.

He takes his trousers off first, then says "shirt?"

You nod. He takes that off, too. Leaves them crumpled in a pile on the floor. Doesn't care for them at the moment. Only cares for you.

"I still need a shower," he says, as he closes the gap between you, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

"We can still get one," you tell him. Honestly, you don't really mind what you do with him. Just know that you wanna make it last. Want this feeling of safety and security for a little while longer.

His arms rest on your shoulders. Just a little taller than you in height when you're sitting like this, Jeongguk likes looking at you from this angle. Likes seeing the variations in your glitter; the small chunks and slightly bigger flakes that make you seem cosmic. He likes noticing the flecks caught on your lashes, and how he never realised quite how long they are. He doesn't think you're wearing mascara. 

You're not - but you did get your lashes done the week before. He wouldn't give a shit even if he knew. Would think it was cool, probably.

"So about that whole no-kissing thing-"

"Nope," you laugh, swatting at his clammy chest. He smirks. Presses his lips together. Shakes his head. 

And then he whines. "It's so unfair."

"If you even try, I'm yelling chess."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," you assure him - only for him to edge a little closer.

He's not actually going to kiss you. 

Although... if you let him, he might. 

"Chess!"

"Ughhhh," he whines again, pulling away. "So mean, disco ball."

"What if I promise to make you cum?"

He narrows his eyes. "Fine."

One of his hands drops to your chest again. Keeps on coming back. Can't resist. Ass guy? Yeah right.

The other drops to your underwear. Toys with the lace. 

"Bird revision, right?" Jeongguk asks. "So we can only do things we've already done?

You nod. 

"Okay," he whispers, before pulling away from you. "Hold that thought."

You watch as he walks around to the kitchen sink, his thick cock tenting in his underwear, desperate for something. Anything . 

And yet your birds? 

All focus on you. You've no idea how the fuck you're gonna get him cumming. Sure, there was the mutual masturbation one, but you'd promised that you'd be the one making him come. Maybe there's room for loopholes.

It wouldn't be the first time the pair of you have skirted the truth of what a bird could entail. A bird, a plane. Whatever.

Hands under the water, Jeongguk's focus is only on cleaning himself. He preens you so often, fixes your hair, your glitter, that it's nice seeing him in the same capacity but for himself. Realistically, it's all for you, still. 

He glances up. Looks a little bashful. 

The distance reduces the pair of you to your natural states; just Jeongguk and his Stargirl. He gazes at you often, but it's different when he's blinded by the light. With a little space, he's reminded of the fact you belong on this earth, too. 

It's like the pair of you are tangled up in a Jekyll and Hyde situation, instead, it's who you are when your clothes are on, versus when your clothes are off. He likes both of them. Doesn't think they can coexist though. 

"What?" he asks when you smile at him. You just shrug and shake your head.

"Weird isn't it?" 

He comes to stand in front of you again. Your legs don't wrap around him, but he does put his palms on the top of your thighs. Looks pensive as he asks, "What is?" 

He's grinning, too, though. His skin is getting all prickly again. Can smell your arousal. Wants to fucking drink it. 

"You 'n' me," you shrug, letting your arms snake around his neck. You're sat up straight, and the gap between your chests closes. "Like, I was maybe 15 seconds away from kissing you." The admission makes Jeongguk want to die. "But then when you were washing your hands..."

"I was just Jeongguk again, right?" He assumes. You nod. "Same for me. Like we're two different people: who we are when we're horny and who we are when we're 'normal'."

"So fucking weird," you laugh, deciding that it solidifies what a great friendship you have. Convince yourself it's gonna make it so much easier when he starts dating. If you can separate the Jeongguk you mess about with and the Jeongguk you're friends with, then there's no reason the friendship should be lost.

"Too weird to pick back up where we left off?" He says quietly. Nudges his nose against yours. Strokes his hands up your back. Pulls his chest away so he can sneak his hands to your tits once more. Squeezes. Makes you moan.

You shake your head. "Do it again."

He does. 

Is firm, as he does so, his large hands cupping your chest so delicately that you almost want him to be rougher - but you like it when he's gentle. Like how well he takes care of you. His thumbs stroke across your hardened nipples, toying at them, getting you all hot and bothered. 

You moan so subtly that Jeongguk thinks it might be his favourite sound in the whole entire world. 

"You wanted specifics earlier," Jeongguk says under his breath. "I can give you a specific."

You nod. Trail along his bottom lip with your thumb. Let him press his lips down against it. 

"Show me," you tell him. He squeezes at your chest. You know exactly what he wants. You also know he's never done it before. "My tits, huh? You wanna suck on them?"

He swallows harshly. Rests his forehead against yours. Nods. Can feel his cock throb. 

"Big boy words," you whisper, and are met with a slight grunt from Jeongguk. He's used to being the one in your position. Used to setting the pace, setting the tone. You switching it back around on him? Fuck. He might just die. Or cum in his pants. One of the two. Death would be preferable. "Tell me what you want."

He rests his head on your shoulder. Looks at your tits as he plays with them. 

"Not much of a teller. More of a doer."

He's just trying to weasel his way out of it. It's like the birds all over again.

"So do it."

And to your surprise, he does.

His lips are firm as he presses a kiss around your nipple. Once, twice. A third time. Poutier and poutier with each kiss. He's delicate. Sincere. Doesn't wanna get it wrong.

"Feels good," you tell him, knowing he needs the reassurance. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smile. Tease at his hair as his lips wrap around you again. The way his lashes splay on his cheeks is art, you decide. "You've no idea how much I like this."

His lips kiss and kiss. It takes a little encouragement - "use your tongue a little. Yeah. Yeah, like that. It feels so good when you do that. Suck a little- oh fuck. Yes." - but it doesn't take long for him to gain confidence. Be a little bolder. He focuses on your reactions. Notices when your breath hitches everytime he runs his tongue around your nipple. When he kitten licks, too. But when he sucks? That's when the jackpot hits. 

Your body leans into his touch, hand resting on the back of his head. His name escapes your lips half a dozen times. When he switches to your other nipple? Half a dozen more.

His lips are direct and purposeful and they tug your nipple into his mouth, his moans vibrating around you.  Pulling away, Jeongguk wastes no time. Has your other nipple in his mouth almost immediately. Squeezes your tits together, nipples almost touching so he can swipe fast licks across them. Gets you mewling. Whining. Begging for more. 

And how can he refuse? 

His hand dips to your pussy. Toys with you over the lace, which is sodden with your arousal. He slides your underwear to the side, and says nothing, just continues sucking on your tits as he sinks a finger into you.

"Shit," you curse. The angle you're sitting at means he can't get too deep. Means he's hitting you in just the right spot, straight off the bat. He mumbles something, but you can't work it out. Just know there's no possible way he's an ass guy. Hasn't spent more than a second away from your tits since he first started peppering them in kisses. "Just like that."

Your head lulls back, and Jeongguk finally pulls away. "You good?"

He's met with the most satisfied laugh he thinks he's ever heard. "Is water wet?"

"Dunno," he grins. "But you are. Fuckin' soaked. God," he stares down at your pussy, stuffed with two of his fingers. "I fuckin' love this cunt."

You smirk. Roll your hips as well as you can in the position. He watches, transfixed by the way he's stretching you out even with just two fingers.

"My bed," he rasps. "Can we? I know I need to shower, but - fuck - I just gotta have you in my bed, B."

Truthfully, you're glad. There's something about post-gym Jeongguk that just really gets to you. You think it's the pheromones. Don't care to google it because you enjoy the mystery. 

You nod. "Probably for the best. You have to eat off of here."

He smirks. Withdraws from you. Says, "So?"

And then he licks his fucking fingers clean. Eyes on yours. One of his brows tweaks. Challenges you. 

"You underestimate how much I like eating pussy," he says, as he walks away, leaving you in a state of shock.

You think his departure is for dramatic effect. In reality, it's just so you don't see the Cheshire cat grin on his face, pleased with himself for what he just did. He knows it was hot - but he's smiling because he can't get over the way you taste. Fucking delicious.

That thing about torturing himself? Yeah. You might be right. 

Eating pussy isn't on the birds. He knows he can't have it - and yet when you arrive at his door, mouth still ajar, both smug and surprised in the same expression, he thinks it might not be unfathomable. 

"What?" he feigns innocence - but he's got a grin that tells the tale of a valiant hero. He's so pleased with himself that you almost slip back into your 'normal' selves again - but then you crawl onto his bed. All fours. Ass a little red from his hands earlier, but no bruises. Just that barely there thong he thinks belongs in a museum, and evidence of just how turned on you are showing between your thighs.

The smile of his? Replaced with a stare so hard it rivals his cock. 

"What?" you feign innocence now, as you flop down onto his bed - and then he gets the luxury of seeing your tits and - fuck. It's all too much. 

He walks over to the bed. Takes off his underwear. You do the same.

"I'm gonna die," he tells you with absolute certainty. He's so ridiculous that you can't help but smile all fondly at him. The way he jokes and banters with you comes so easily, that part of you doesn't even realise he's naked. Part of you does, though. Mainly your eyes, given the fact they seem to be transfixed on his cock. "If we don't do something about this-" he gestures down to his cock, as if you need any direction "- then I absolutely will just die. Is that what you want? Huh?" 

"Mhmm," you hum, finishing it with a small giggle and a nod, reaching for his hand to pull him onto his bed. He lets you. Follows your lead, cause he hopes it's leading him somewhere good. "I want you dying a very little death."

The innuendo dances off your tongue and into his ear as you sit on his lap. His hands automatically find your chest. He decides he'll miss them. Encourages your body down. Positions you just right so that he can take your tits in his mouth again. He's a changed man.

"Don't think there'll be any little about it," he mumbles as he switches sides, kitten licking now so that he can finish his sentence. "Think it's gonna be a very big death, actually."

"Shit," you whisper as he gets reacquainted with your body. He decides all rather quickly that tits are a gift from God and he's been blind for his entire life up until he met you. How had he not been utterly obsessed before? He'll never admit it. Never. Will prevail as an ass guy - but fuck, he hopes whoever you set him up with has a good pair of tits.

But then there's an uncomfortable awareness of how fleeting this all is. By the time you've both finished, it'll all be over. 

He manoeuvres you both over. Kisses your chest, now. Works his way up to your collarbone. Your neck. Bites down ever so gently. Kisses again. Tells you once more how your no-kissing rule 'will kill' him. 

"Better leave me something nice in your will," you tease as he finally pulls away from dappling your skin in pretty kisses that you wished could have been on your lips instead. Either pair. 

He sits back on his heels. Strokes his cock as he looks at you. Tilts his head, a smirk rising on one side as you cup your tits. 

"Pussy," he encourages, pulling a little tighter on his cock. "Play with your pussy."

You give him a quizzical look, but do as you're told. Slide your fingers between your slick folds. Spread yourself for him. Watch as he almost fucking hisses. The pace he's wanking himself off increases. His breathing shallows. You think it stops completely when you sink two fingers into your entrance.

He curses. Tilts his head back. Ruts his hips upwards. Forces his cock through the tight grip of his hand. There's a sheen to his tip, precum leaking so delicately that you find yourself salivating at the sight of it. The muscles in his lower abdomen tense. He's edging himself. 

"How many birds do we have left?" Jeongguk rasps, eyes opening to find yours again. The way he speaks, all breathless and needy, has you wanting more. "Mutal masturbation's done. I can't... Shit. I can't. I'll cum if I carry on. Tits are done. Fingers, done. What else?"

"Shower," you say, then follow it up with. "Do that last. Water gets in the way. Wanna watch you cum."

"Shit, don't say shit like that," he mewls as he sinks down on top of you. His body is warm, the chain around his neck catching on your throat, pooling between your collarbones. Has you determined to make him finish on your chest. Wanna replace his chain with his cum. 

In a normal scenario, he'd kiss you right now - but he can't. Instead, he averts his desire. Grips his cock. Presses it against your folds. Spreads your slickness. Covers himself in it. Dips down a little too far. Curses. Gets you whining. 

"You know," he husks against your neck. "We could..."

"Cockwarm?" You simper. "Don't believe that one was my bird?"

The crown of his cock presses against you. Jeongguk holds it as the base, and runs it down your folds, then back again. He repeats. Lets his grip get even tighter when he lines up with your entrance. He waits for you to move your hips.

And you do. Just for a moment. Just a tad. Just enough.

"Wasn't it?" He hums, knowing perfectly well it was one of his.

"Don't even think it was a bird," you whisper a little breathlessly as he presses a little deeper against you. He adjusts his hips. Lines himself up a little better. Your breath hitches.

"So you don't want to?" He asks, and you can just tell he's got one of those smiles on his lips. The one that makes you think maybe kissing him wouldn't be so bad. "'Cause I wanna."

"Gguk," you whisper. He shakes his head.

"Not an answer."

"Shit," you whimper, rolling your hips ever so gently to encourage his tepid ruts against you. "Condom?"

"Birth control?" he chances. He knows you're on it. Think if he's gonna get his cock in you, then he's gonna at least try for it raw.

You know you should, and yet - "Are you clean?"

He nods. Asks the same back. You nod. Haven't hooked up with anyone but him since your last test.

Everything is out in the open. There's nothing to lose - just the knowledge that you'll maybe never get this ever again. It only serves to make you want him raw even more.

"You get a minute."

He pauses. "A minute?"

"Sixty seconds," you nod. "Cockwarming. That's all you get."

It's ridiculous, 'cause all you want is for Jeongguk to fuck you senseless. Think it's embarrassing admitting that, though. What if he doesn't actually want to fuck you? What if it's just for the birds?

"Who's counting?" He husks. Realigns himself. Presses the tip of his cock against your entrance. Plugs it but doesn't push forward. Makes you wanna die. Too good. Too fuckin' good.

"You are," you whimper, knowing you won't be able to keep count when he's inside you.

He nods. Reminds you that 'chess' is always an option.

His cock sinks into you slowly. It's thick and wide, angled just right to hit your sweetest spots. Jeongguk groans. Finds himself seeking out your tits with his mouth as he bottoms out. Sucks gently, until he's reminded by you that he needs to be keeping count.

He grins. Nibbles your nipple ever so gently, then nods. "You're right, you're right. Sorry. Shit. One. Two..."

Jeongguk finds solace in the crook of your neck as your legs wrap around him. The position has him thinking you've no right to ever complain about intimacy again. This is about as fucking intimate as it gets. And when your arms wrap around his neck? Dainty fingers start toying with his hair? Only amplifies it.

Your hips move ever so tenderly, and he loses count. Finds himself swearing again. You're tight and warm around him, just how he wanted it. Torture. Fucking torture. He likes this so much he fears you ruined actual sex for him.

"Shit," he mumbles against you. "Never been good at maths."

The way you giggle? Torture. Again. 

"You're a liar, Jeon Jeongguk," you whisper tenderly, tensing around him just cause you liked the way it made him whine.

He pouts and shakes his head, which is still buried in the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he asks, "What comes after 32?"

And because you're just as into it as he is, you decide lying is okay for the time being. "11."

"Yeah," he whines. "Thought so. Eleven... Twelve... What's next?"

"Dunno," you whimper breathlessly. It's getting a bit too much for you, too. "Maybe ten?"

"Ten," he echoes. Decides he wants to spend eternity inside you. "Eleven..."

He pauses just long enough for you to know exactly where he's going with this - so you beat him to it.

"Maybe it would be easier if you had a rhythm going?" you simper. 

"A rhythm?" He hums. He was just gonna pretend he couldn't do maths again.

"Like..." you pull your hips back a little, burying yourself deeper into the mattress and away from him - but then you push them back up. Jeongguk fucking whines. "One." 

You pull back, again. Jeongguk whines, again. Sinks himself back into you. "Shit. Two."

"I'm not good at multitasking," he says. Not a lie, admittedly. Gets distracted too easily. If you don't keep count, he'll just fuck you forever or something stupid like that. Doesn't think he'd mind it, to be honest. "Maybe you should keep count."

"Mhmm? You want me to count for you?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Count for me, B. Make sure I don't go over sixty."

"I'll count backwards," you tell him, thinking it will somehow take longer, because apparently all sense of sanity is evading you. Unsurprising. All you can think about is Jeongguk's fat cock and how it's keeping you spread open nice and wide for him. "Countdown." 

"60-0?" He clarifies, to which you nod. "Mhm. Do that. Count backwards. Use that pretty little head of yours."

"Sixty..."

The way he pulls out of you is maddeningly slow. He's deliberating taking his time. Overindulging. Making this last. He's even slower as he pushes back in, filling you up as deep as he possibly can.

You're barely able to get the next number out.

"Fifty-nine," you eventually manage as he bottoms out. "Fuck."

He's lethargic in the way he moves. Slow as he withdraws, and even slower still as he fucks himself into you.

"Fifty-eight..."

Jeongguk's skin is hot. He sticks to you like glue. Only his hips move - but so do yours. 

You're fucking. 

You. Are. Fucking.

And, God, you know you shouldn't. You know that it's a recipe for disaster, but Jeongguk's aftershave smells like safety and his bed feels like home, so the prospect isn't scary. 

"...Forty-two... Forty-one..."

Your whines are getting louder. So are his grunts. You grip onto his biceps, and begin to realise Jeon Jeongguk is not a man. He simply cannot be. Not when he is built like a Greek God, and looks like one too. Crafted from marble, there's no possibility he's real. 

And even if he is real, you think there's no way he'd actually be fucking himself into you like he is. 

Sex, at its very basic fundamental value, is all about survival of the fittest. Anatomy. Breeding. Shit like that; things you can't quite recall when he's balls deep inside you. It's about fucking for the survival of the human race, and out of everyone on the planet, you can't wrap your head around the fact he'd choose to do that with you. His basic anatomy would choose you . 

Jeongguk isn't thinking as intensely as you are. 

Fucking. Nice feeling. Cum. Nice. Inside her. Nice. Fucking. Real nice. Glitter. Nice. Tits. Suck. Nice. More. Fuck. Nice. Again? Nice.

But he is also thinking about spilling himself into you, and how fucking unreal it would feel. 

So maybe your brains are working in tandem. Different process. Same end goal. He just can believe he'd choose you, 'cause, well... he already has.

Eventually, you hit thirty-three, then thirty-two, and then -

"Shit," you whine. "That damn thirty-two."

"What about it?" He asks a little curiously. Pauses his hips until he gets the go-ahead from you again.

"I've forgotten what comes after it."

"Shit," he grins, playing along with you. "Start again?"

"Maybe," you nod. "But this time, maybe go faster? Might jog my memory?"

Jeongguk smirks. Sits up on his heels, cock still buried inside you, knees on either side of your ass. He grips your waist. Spanks one of your tits, then softly caresses it as an apology for letting the intrusive thought win. His hips pulse gently. 

He's fucking you. 

Jeongguk is fucking you. 

He lets the hand that was playing with your chest trail down your torso until it reaches your pussy. It's swollen and needy, just as much blood rushing to your clit as there is to his cock. His thumb presses down right when it needs to. Rubs in tiny circles as he gently thrusts into you slowly.

"Faster?"

You nod.

"Okay," he rasps. "Let's jog that memory of yours. You're so smart, Byeol. Look at you, and your pretty little head. So smart. So fucking smart when my cock's inside you."

This time you don't count. He grips your waist. Rams himself into you like a man possessed, lips resting ajar as his brows knit together all prettily like they did when he was eating brunch. So incredibly focused, and yet there's not a single thought up in that gorgeous head of his, just that he's fucking you so hard his neighbour will definitely be able to hear his bedframe hitting the wall. Good .

The noises he makes are lewd. You think he'd make bank with an only fans. Know that you'd pay good money for it. With a cock as pretty as his? A body like a marble statue? Gorgeous little whimpers when his cock is all needy for you? Yeah, bitches would go wild for him. 

Funny, how you refer to them as bitches, almost like you're jealous over imaginary women who'd find him sexy. Very strange, indeed. 

After all? You're just friends.

His pace eventually eases, and you pretend like you were counting the entire time. "Two... One... Times up."

Jeongguk sinks back down, hooking one of your legs over his elbow as he does so, opening you up even further. He wants to be deeper. As deep as he possibly can be. Wants to press down on your cute little tummy and feel himself inside you.

"Whoever fucks you next better worship your pussy," he mumbles, pressing kisses up your neck. "So fucking good. Shit. If you dare fuck another guy who doesn't make you cum like you know you deserve to cum-"

"You'll what?" you tease, a smile plastered all over your face. "Die?"

He laughs. Shakes his head. You know him so well. "What use would that be? Nah..."

Jeongguk pulls away from you again. Withdraws himself fully for the first time. Watches your pussy as your arousal seeps from your tight cunt and onto his sheets. Wants to lick it all up. Doesn't think he's allowed to, though.

Instead, he moves your legs, finally noticing the extra bruises from pole. You were right. They do look like watercolour bruises. 

He squeezes your thighs together and uses his gentle hands to twist your hips, so that your legs are curled to the side, but keeps your back flat against his bed. He lines himself up with you again. Grunts as he sinks into you. You're tighter now, like this. He thinks it's gonna make him cum. He has to go slow.

"I'd get you like this," he says, holding onto your hip and pushing deeper, deeper into you. He nods over to his desk and smirks. "And that chair over there? That's where they'd be. And they'd have to watch me fuck you how you like it."

He doesn't mean to, but he finds himself fixated on the fact you routinely have sex and don't finish. He can't wrap his head around it. He'd had the luxury of witnessing you cum a handful of times. Had felt it once. Knows first-hand how fucking good it is. Thinks about it as he fucks into you, now, then lets the intrusive thoughts win again as he begins to ramble.

"Can't believe how many people you've let get away without making you cum. You know how good that shit is? Fuck. You feel like heaven. They wouldn't even deserve to watch it - but I'd do it. I'd make them fuckin' watch - 'cause not being funny, B, but you should see yourself right now. So fucking hot I might die. Hopefully then if they fucked you again, they'd know what to do."

"Never realised you were such a good teacher, Mr Jeon," you tease.

He stills his cock inside you. Smirks. Shakes his head. Picks up the pace again.

You know what ' Jeon ' does to him. The ' Mr ' ahead of it? Yeah. Gets him.

And so gives you a friendly threat, as he fucks his cock a little deeper into your tight, warm cunt. "I will fuck you so hard my bed breaks if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Oh?" You grin, trying not to moan and failing miserably. "Would you prefer Sir ?"

"Final warning," he growls, his hips slowing but deepening. He's close. You know it's not gonna take much. 

"Whatcha gonna do? Give me a detention?"

"If you get to call me stupid fuckin' names, then I get to kiss you."

"Kissing isn't very friendly, is it?"

"Byeol, my cock is inside you."

"Yeah? Just a friendly fuck."

He knows you're joking, but Jeongguk doesn't think there's anything friendly about this.

He doesn't insist on kissing you any further.

"You're unbelievable," he smiles, easing slightly before reaching for your hand. "C'mon, let's make you cum."

"Oh? You want this to be over?" You flash a grin, as if you haven't been fucking him for God knows how long by this point, knowing full well he could have cum in 10 seconds flat at any given opportunity. He repeatedly edged himself for you.

"No, but if I don't cum soon, Byeol, I'll d-"

"Die, yeah yeah," you grin. "Alright. Put yourself out of your misery."

He laughs. Looks at you with such fondness that you think you'd quite like to orgasm on his cock for him like a good friend should. "You make me sound like such an asshole."

"I don't," you promise sweetly - before you also decide to let the intrusive thoughts win. "Also, just on the subject of assholes, thoughts on pegging?"

"Literally what the fuck is wrong with you," he laughs, rolling his hips to remind you of the more pressing things at hand. You moan a little, but all you wanna do is banter with him. You enjoy it. Like it when he's all hard and needy and impatient, and you're winding him up. You like frustrating him. 

"You've got a nice ass," you shrug, shoulders pressed deep down into his white sheets. You look angelic, he thinks, hair haloing around your head, chest flushed, tits covered in teeny tiny hickies from his mouth.

"Well, maybe if you'd have picked a different plane..." he teases. "You'd know by now."

Holy shit.

"Wait. You wanna get peg-"

Jeongguk covers your mouth with his hand, a subtle grin on his pretty little face, dewy nose scrunching just for you.

"As much as I enjoy your chitchat, Byeol, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't talk at all. That good?"

You laugh. Twist your torso over to reposition yourself on your front. He gives you a playful spank straight off the bat, and it makes you roll your eyes - as if you hadn't turned over just to give him a view of your ass. You'd known what you were getting yourself in for.

Adjusting you slightly, Jeongguk pulls one of his spare pillows over, and lifts your hips to scoot it beneath you. It's his favourite position. Every last part of it. The way he can pull on hair and spank asses? The muffled moans into his pillows? Fuck . 

You love it just as much. Always helps to have your body weight adding to the pressure of your fingers massaging against your cunt. As Jeongguk pushes into you, he watches your hand slip beneath your body, and curses. 

"That's it, B," he husks. "That's a good girl."

He fucks himself into you - slow, deep, hard - and picks up the pace with every pathetic moan that escapes your lips. Tells you how good you sound, how much he wants to hear you come undone - and then you are.

The pleasure waves through you like an electrical current, Jeongguk's thick cock unrelenting as he fucks into you and drags your high even further than you thought possible. There's a numbness to your body, save for the overwhelming pleasure that pulses around his cock. It's all you can feel. Everything else is void. For a moment, the only important thing in your life is Jeongguk's dick and the way it fills you like nothing else ever has.

"Shit," he husks. "B, where?"

"Back," you just say, unable to move because your body is still fucking shaking. You don't even get the chance to mourn the loss of his cock inside of you, because he has to pull out so quickly.

His hand grips his cock and wanks faster than the speed of light. The pressure in his balls builds and builds and then it can build no more.

He squeezes your ass and whines as thick, creamy spurts of cum begin to paint your back.

The sound of his grunting makes you moan with every new rope of cum emptied onto your skin, and Jeongguk's pretty sure nothing in Taehyung's 'passion' collection could even come close to the sight in front of him. 

The final drops are wasted on your ass cheek as Jeongguk holds it to the peachy flesh, watching the way he stains your skin. Holding his cock by its base, he spanks it against your ass once, twice. Smirks. Takes a moment to squeeze your ass just because he can. 

He fucked you. He knows he should be concerned about the friendship, but he's not reached post-nut clarity yet.

Eventually, he flops down beside you.

"You know," you mumble, eyes closed, a smile on your lips. Jeongguk's grin is so serene that it's a good job your eyes aren't open. You might accidentally get your feelings confused if you saw him look that pretty. "I actually think it's a bit mean setting these poor girls up with you."

"What? Why?"

He sounds genuinely affronted. You just smile harder.

"Well, it's a bit cruel, isn't it? Us pretending like they'll be dating some great guy, only for them to later find out you're really average in bed."

He knows you're joking. Knows that a fuck like that could never be described as average. Plays up to your teasing just because he finds it funny.

" Average ?!" He exclaims. You can hear his smile in his tone of voice. "Nah, you're chatting shit just to piss me off, Byeol. What is it, huh? Want me to fuck you again? Want me to remind you exactly how average I can be?"

"Maybe."

He grunts. "Call me when you can walk straight."

"Pass me my phone."

"Fuck off."

The afternoon descends into casual chaos. You shower together, and bicker over who gets to stand beneath the water for longer, then battle it out for Jeongguk's fluffy towel in the aftermath. In the end, he lets you have it - only 'cause he likes the way you oogle at him when he's naked. 

You dry your hair, and style Jeongguk's into pretty little French braids. Tell him that he has to keep it like that. He says he will. By the time Jimin gets home, you're just sitting on the sofa watching shite TV. He's none the wiser you were naked on his kitchen counter a few hours earlier. Probably is best he never finds out about that part.

He studies Jeongguk's hair for a moment, then shrugs. "Suits you. What have you guys been up to?"

Good fucking question. 

"Not much," Jeongguk hums. "Gym this morning. Met this one -" he pokes you with his foot, earning a grimace from you. "- Afterwards for coffee. Been stuck to me like a bad smell ever since."

Jimin laughs. Shakes he his head as he comes to sit by you both with a box of dry cereal that he's eating straight from the bag. 

"You've got the most sensitive nose known to man," Jimin teases. "If you've kept her around, it's cause she smells good."

"Nah," he begs to differ. "Just gone nose blind."

"Prick," you laugh, then ask Jimin about his day. 

Conversation takes place of the shitty TV show, the three of you easily finding a million different topics to talk about.

It's times like this you regret ever fucking Jimin. Part of you fears you'll always just be 'the girl Jimin fucked that one time'. No identity within Jeongguk's friendship group beyond the fact you shagged his mate.

It's stupid. They barely remember Jimin even so much as looked in your direction. You're Jeongguk's friend. Jeongguk's.

Funny how you don't seem to mind being reduced to no identity outside of the confines of Jeongguk. Did you really heal after Seokjin? Or are you just making even worse decisions than you used to?

Thing is, Jeongguk's friends would be right in thinking that of you. 

You are his friend. 

As you head off into town the next morning to arrange his blind date, you know that's all you'll ever be.

And somehow, you think you're okay with that. 

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[bigassmoonchild]

Hoops

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: None of your squad was ready to be a part of a mission. You knew they weren't, they were just kids who were getting ready for a life of misery. So you went instead. Missions never go right with the 141, and as much as Simon didn't want you to join you had to. It seemed you couldn't stray from an argument with him for too long.

Content Tags: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, Missions Gone Wrong, Mentions of dead bodies, Medical Inaccuracies, Arguments, Simon Realizing His Feelings For You, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: Here it is! Chapter 9 of Maple Syrup! I would've thought you guys would prefer the smut, but it almost seems like you like the angst more?? Here y'all go, enjoy! As always, content is under the cut and my asks are open!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

"Is anybody on your training squad ready to be placed in a mission yet?" You sighed deeply, running your hands down your face. Shaking your head, you looked up at the man leading the operation. You didn't know his name, and quite honestly you didn't want to.

He looked away, thinking. "My last squad? Maybe there would've been one person strong enough for it, but this one? They didn't even know how to go about placing a tourniquet, let alone stitching someone up on the battlefield," you told him. You didn't want to be sitting here, busy with trying to make sure you didn't send any of your squad out too soon to be ready for the actual fight.

All you wanted was to be curled up in your nest, trying to figure out where the hell Simon had run off to this time. For the last two weeks Simon had seemingly disappeared, not even having lunch or dinner with you.

"Do you think that you're capable of going on this mission?"

"I'm not allowed on missions anymore, I thought?" You were appalled. Stunned. You hadn't ever thought of returning to the field, not since you'd become mated. "Aren't there a bunch of hoops to jump through if you wanted to have me return to the field?"

He shrugged. "I have enough of a reputation that I'd be more than capable of getting this through the hoops," he told you.

The next morning, as you were just about to take a sip of the coffee you had oh so carefully made, the door slammed open and made you jump, spilling it just between your legs. You stared at the coffee splattered on the floor before looking up.

Simon. You went to talk, opening your mouth to say something when he interrupted. "You're not going on that mission," your brows furrowed. Of all things he could've fucking said to you, for the first time in weeks, that's what he chose?

"I don't recall you having a say, considering you come and go in my life," you snapped at him. He looked almost taken aback at your words. "When you finally make a decision about whether you want to be in my life or not, then you'll get a say in these things," you told him.

He looked away, closing his eyes tightly before opening them and staring at you. "Last time I checked I was your Alpha,"

"Last time I checked an Alpha didn't abandon his Omega because he wasn't good at talking," you snapped, standing up. "Now, if you'd ever so kindly leave, I have work to do. If you come back, I'm expecting an apology, explanation or both," you pointed at the door.

Mouth agape, he stared at you, blinking rapidly. You pointed at the door again and he turned, not looking back as he walked out and shut the door softly.

You sat down, hands holding your head as you gave little gasps, trying to breathe through the panic you felt. Tears were dripping through from your eyes, throat burning.

Jesus fucking Christ, Simon Riley was going to be the death of you.

Being back in a plane was a little unsettling, even if you had gone through a quick two-week training session, to get you back up to speed, they said. They taught you basic combat skills, got you comfortable with simple weaponry. Made you a soldier, at least once again.

The bumping of bodies together because of how close everyone was. You could feel the weight of the gun you were holding and the packs you were holding, filled with medical supplies.

People were speaking loudly, some through their radios and some just between each other. You could see Soap and Price sitting just across from you, Price leaned in to listen to what Soap had been saying. Ghost and Gaz were on the other flight, with another squad who had another medic.

The flight shook, tremoring with the turbulence, shaking like you almost felt like you were. Your hands were grasping at the straps holding you in place, and you saw Price press into his radio to be heard on the team channel.

"Alpha Team, drop in 5, be ready," he spoke and you nodded at them, listening to a few others give their affirmatives. The plane shook, you could hear from inside the shots it was taking. Hopefully, it would remain intact enough to get you to the landing point and be okay to extract you if need be.

Alarms began blaring, people stood and moved, seeming to try and run away. You stood yourself, glancing over at Price and Soap to try and figure it out.

"We're jump-" Black. Everything was black and as you came to it felt like your body was on fire. Everything hurt and you could feel that sticky wetness covering parts of you. You moved your fingers and toes, trying to make sure nothing was wrong.

As you sat up, you looked around, feeling for your in-ear mic. It was there and you smacked at it a few times before it turned back on, albeit slightly staticky.

"-nyone there? I repeat, is anyone there?" Gaz?

"I'm here, we went down," you spoke, struggling to your feet as you looked around. "I'm going around to find any survivors or see if people are dead, send for extraction. I'll let you know the injured count," you tossed some rubble off of a person, feeling for a pulse.

Nothing. The next person was cut through the abdomen, their eyes glossy as they stared into the smoking sky. From what you could see on his uniform, he was just a boy.

The next person was blinking up at you, their leg sliced all the way through, nothing but flesh and blood splattering it. You slid on a tourniquet, giving the soldier a small smile and some reassurances.

You hadn't been out for too long, you'd realized. If that soldier was still alive, even with a lost limb, it had been seconds or minutes at most. You reached for you mic before hearing a voice.

"Sit still, I'm coming to give you backup," Ghost. You shook your head, crawling through more debris as you found Soap.

"You're going to want to bring as many people that know how to treat severe wounds," you told him. For what seemed like seconds, you worked to stitch up the major wounds on Soap, closing up an artery.

When you found Price, you became horrified. There was rubble covering him, his body limp, blood surrounding him. You moved to pull the rubble off of him, unable to do it because of the weight. Instead, you jumped to stitch up the wounds you could see, listening to the calls of Ghost and the others.

"Over here!" You shouted at them, waving your flashlight. When they were finally able to get there, you started ordering people around. "I need at least two people helping me search and fixing people up. Price is here, someone needs to get the rubble off of him," you watched as Ghost and Gaz pulled the rubble off, moving it away and you jumped in to tourniquet the wound.

With each stitch, you could feel yourself falling more and more into fear. His artery was almost severed, and you needed to spend more time on him. You looked up and found Ghost hovering over you.

"How far out is extraction?"

"Few minutes, maybe 10 max,"

"They need to get here faster, or there are going to be a lot of deaths," you told him, watching as he reached for an actual radio, talking into it and nodding. He'd ended up getting them to arrive not five minutes later, their speeds picking up with the knowledge that there were survivors.

As you boarded the flight with the worst of the wounded, which ended up being a young girl not too much younger than yourself, you watched Ghost fight his way on. He stood in the corner as you ordered the people around and trying to fix her up.

He watched, intently, as you moved in your natural habitat. He could see the blood pooling down the back of your head, as much as you tried to ignore it.

When you moved too quick around a corner, you had to catch yourself to keep from passing out. Lightheaded, you stood trying to bring your vision back from tunneling. There was nothing short of panic in your body as you turned to say something, vision fully blacking out before you felt yourself falling.

Your head was throbbing when you came back to, the bright lights burning your eyes as you opened them. You could smell fear and stress all nearly fully coating the tobacco, leather and little hints of smoke from the last mission. You lifted your head as much as you could, glancing over to where the scent was strongest.

"Are you finally back to deciding I'm worth being in your life?" You whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming. You could hear Simon sigh heavily, a groan coming from his throat.

"Can we please do this another time? You nearly died," he whispered the last part, moving closer to you. You shook your head vigorously, trying to bite your tongue to keep from snapping at him.

You looked at him. "I've told you already. I can't do this up and down with you, this back and forth. It's ruining me," you whispered, feeling your eyes watering. He shook his head, cupping his face in his hands. "Either you figure out how to talk to me, or we get rid of this," you watched as he rubbed his eyes, you could smell the distress and sadness overtaking his scent.

He looked up. "I don't know how to do anything but retreat," he whispered to you. Shaking your head, you looked up at the ceiling. Glancing at him shortly, you had to close your eyes.

"Then you need to leave until you can figure out what it is you want," you told him, hearing him stand and the door opening and shut. With him went his scent, the only thing you could smell was the distress and hurt.

You could feel the tears pouring down your cheeks, your knees bending in an attempt to curl in on yourself. It had felt like hours until your tears dried, your chest hurting and the little gasps you gave out slowly became hiccups. It slowly turned to little breaths, your eyes blinking slowly as you stared to the side.

It took about a week until you were released, the concussion having healed through the week, large bruises and scrapes were slowly healing, a few stitches scattered on your body. You found yourself in your room, the area feeling too clean for your opinion.

The nest had lost its scent, leaving you to re-make it with materials that were better scented.

You took out the one last hoodie of Simons.

The not knowing was what hurt the most. Not knowing if Simon was going to keep you as his mate, not knowing if he was going to try and help himself and help you.

With a deep breath, you started a bath. Your thoughts would be the end of you, and you needed to take some time to just not think. Maybe have an orgasm or two, by your own hands this time.

Simon left. He just completely left the compound when you had made your comments to him, still lying on that bed and slightly bloody. Hair a mess, mud (or blood) splattering it. He put in his leave request the minute he left your hospital room and then booking a flight home.

Home. What a strange concept. Was home just a building, the place you laid your head down to rest at night? Was is the place that you went to when you had nowhere else to go?

Was it a person?

Simon didn't know. He didn't want to know, to be completely honest, and all he could do was run. Just like he always did. Either way, Simon needed a minute to think about everything that happened. Everything he did, everything you did and the things that were caught in his mind.

He hadn't even told Price he left, not yet at least. Not to his face. Sure, he left the note, but Price had been off doing things when he went there.

There was nothing that was good when he got into his apartment. The area smelled stalely of him, and he felt this weird sense of longing lodge into his chest. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, he had never felt something like that, at least not for a long time.

Little whines escaped from his chest, and all he could think about was the scent that was missing. The voice that was missing, the person who was missing.

You. You were missing, his little Omega who was oh so good when he had you. Who was oh so patient with him, the little Omega who gave him love. He didn't want anything short of you, even a little pup or two. Make yourself a pack, create a life with you.

And the only thing Simon could think about was getting back to you. It eventually turned into trying to think about how he would explain everything to you, how he would tell you everything. Give you an explanation, no matter the hoops he would have to jump through.

You deserved it.

Next

Taglist:

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @404lunar

(I definitely forgot to add the taglist for my initial post, but I added it only minutes after posting)

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 14

Here were at the penultimate chapter. Just one more chapter to go and I am so proud of this little story. I know I said that yesterday but it is just such a good story.

The final chapter will be up on Friday!

In this we a misunderstanding, Eddie gets advice from his new roommate, Dr. Hughes is a saint.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

*throws cliffhanger at you and runs!*

~

Steve had been to a lot of places when he competed but nothing was quite like London, England.

The city was massive for a start. And ancient in ways America just isn’t. Steve, Wayne, and Robin had book their flight through Gatwick instead of Heathrow to save on money and so they arrived ahead of the athletes. Which game them time to see a bit of the city.

Robin squealed with delight when she got to ride on the top of a double-decker bus.

“The only thing that would make this better is if it was purple and had a third level!” she said excitedly.

Max had introduced Robin to Harry Potter and there was no going back. She was a Ravenclaw of course. And a good portion of her clothes were in blue or silver. There was no way to get the original blue and bronze from the book for love or money, much to her dismay.

Wayne just shook his head. He didn’t veer far from his sports and shows, but he did enjoy a good British mystery. Him and Eddie watched Sherlock. Though, everyone watched Doctor Who religiously every Saturday on Steve’s big screen TV.

They traveled over the London Bridge, the real one and not the Tower Bridge that everyone confuses it to be. It’s a regular suspension bridge. Which Robin thought was lame.

They arrived at their hotel and Steve and Robin went into one room and Wayne went into the other. Once they were showered and changed, they went to go meet Eddie at the airport. They waited by the baggage claim for him to arrive.

They saw a bunch of athletes pile out of security and they jumped up and down trying to find in the crowd.

Wayne spotted him first. He waved his arm in the air. “Eddie!”

Those chocolate button eyes lit up as Eddie heard his name being called. Suddenly Steve and Robin were joining in and calling his name too.

He patted someone on the shoulder and trotted over to the three of them. He gave them all hugs.

“Can you believe it?” Eddie squealed. “The actual fucking Olympics. And all thanks to Stevie here, seeing my potential.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “I may have recognized your talent, but you’re the one who got you here.”

Eddie looked over his shoulder. “Look, guys. I’d love to stay and chat, but they want us to jump through hoops and shit, so I’ve got to go. But I’ll message you once I get the chance, okay?”

They all nodded and once Eddie got his luggage he was sprinting back to the other athletes.

“Well that was certainly something,” Robin said dryly, pursing her lips together. “I realize that he probably has to check in and stuff, but who was that guy he was chatting with before he noticed us?”

Steve’s stomach twisted as he tried to tell himself he had no claim to Eddie. Eddie was only twenty to his own twenty-six. It was good Eddie was meeting people his own age. Maybe... he gulped hard. Maybe find someone to have a fling with or even...He closed his eyes. He shook his head.

“Steve?” Robin asked breaking into his revery with a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’ve been calling your name for a bit there. You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said with a blinding, and blindingly false smile. “Just hard to be here and not be competing, you know?”

Robin and Wayne shared a glance. They really hadn’t thought about that aspect of this trip. They had been so excited to see Eddie in the Olympics that they forgot that had Steve not been hurt last time, he would be with Eddie, getting his badge and room sorted. Instead of here with the family members.

“Sorry, Steve,” Robin murmured. “I feel like such a bad friend now.”

Steve shrugged her off. He looked at his watch. “I think I’m going to call Dr. Hughes.” He walked off in the direction of the exit, leaving behind a hurt Robin and a solemn Wayne.

Once he was out in open air, Steve felt like he could breathe again. The feelings for Eddie plus the weight of not being one of the athletes was just suddenly too much.

He chew on his thumbnail as he dialed Dr. Hughes. “Please pick up. Please pick up.”

“Hello, Steve,” Dr. Hughes said warmly. “I was expecting you to call today for I took the day off to be available to you.”

Steve slumped against the building wall and huffed out a watery laugh. “Am I really that predictable?”

“No, Steve,” Dr. Hughes assured him. “Trauma is that predictable. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, seeing Eddie standing where you stood four years ago. All hopes and dreams and to have them taken away from you so quickly. You’re allowed to grieve that. I’m proud of you for reaching out.”

“It’s just so heartbreaking,” Steve said, fighting back tears. “I thought I could be happy enough for Eddie. But I just want to shake him.” He cocked his head to the side. “Or, you know, kiss him.”

Dr. Hughes chuckled. “I was wondering when you were going to admit to that one. You’ve been pining after that boy for so long, Steve.”

“It’s unethical,” Steve huffed, tilting his head back until it hit the wall behind him. “I’m his coach and I’m six years older. I can’t be lusting over a twenty year old that I have authority over. I don’t want to lose him by being removed as his coach. I think that would devastate us both.”

“That’s certainly true,” he murmured. “But you aren’t his coach right now and it might be a good idea to at least confront those feelings and see where it takes you. You can always find someone else to coach him. Promote Robin. I’m sure she’d love that.”

Steve chuckle was a little watery this time. “Yeah, I don’t doubt it. She’d throw me under a bus if meant getting a fancy coaching jacket.”

Dr. Hughes chuckled back. “Well maybe toss in a bag of corn chips and then she’ll throw you under the bus.”

“Thanks Dr. Hughes,” Steve said, smiling now. “Will it be okay if I call you more during the next two weeks?”

“Fortnight,” Dr. Hughes said in amusement, “the British call two weeks a fortnight. But yes Steve you can call me at any time. Doesn’t matter the time, all right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve said breathing a sigh of relief. “Thanks again. And hopefully it won’t be too soon.”

“It wouldn’t matter if it was,” Dr. Hughes said gently. “Trauma is like a box with a button in it and a ball rotating around. At first the ball, life if you will, will keeping hitting the button. Over and over again. Then with time, therapy, and good support system the ball gets smaller and starts to ping off the sides and at odd times, often when you least expect it, the ball will hit the button.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Steve whined, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s like in ‘The Emperor’s New Groove’,” Dr. Hughes explained with a chuckle, “when the squirrel pops the balloon and nothing happens but when Kuzco yells Ha! it wakes the panthers. It’s a bit like that.”

“Oh okay,” he said. “I think I get it. Something bad will happen and you think it will trigger it but it doesn’t. Then something you thought you’d be fine with suddenly awakens the sleeping panthers?”

“That’s it exactly,” Dr. Hughes said approvingly. “You get some sleep and maybe a small snack, both will help with the feelings you have.”

“Thanks again,” Steve said and hung up. He looked up to see Wayne and Robin standing a respectful distance away. “Sorry about that, guys.”

“Don’t you be apologizing for being overwhelmed, you hear?” Wayne said dryly. “It’s not your fault we’re a pair of idiots.”

Robin came up and gave him a big hug. “Yeah. We’re really sorry. But you’ve got to tell us when you get these feelings, we can’t read your mind, okay?”

Steve nodded into her arms. “I’ll try to but sometimes it just hits me out of nowhere and I can’t control that.”

“Roger that!” she said with a sniffle. “I’m guessing just now was one of those moments where it just hit you?”

“Yeah,” he said letting out a shuddering breath. “I was watching Eddie laughing with his teammates and it just suddenly became too much.”

“You always were wet, Harrington,” a sneering voice said from behind them. “I just didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Steve turned around slowly. “Billy Hargrove. I was ultimately surprised Jason made it through the trials. Who did you pay off to take the hit in his heat?”

Billy’s sneer grew to a snarl. “You always thought you were better than everyone else, Harrington but look at you now. Crying in an airport.”

“You always were a better liar than you were a swimmer,” Steve scoffed. “Maybe you should run along and leave the winning to the people who know what that looks like.”

“Bitch,” he snapped and stormed off to a rental Jag that was waiting for him on the curb.

~

Eddie would have flopped face first into the mattress but he was pretty sure that if he did, it would collapse under him. His roommate was a guy named Trent York, who also had been his seat partner on the flight over. They had a lot in common. They liked D&D, fantasy movies, and

they both grew up poor.

Alas, Trent not only as straight as an arrow, but was planning on proposing to his girlfriend if he got on the podium for any of his events.

God, he wished he had been able to stick around with Steve and Wayne and Robin. But Steve had been there before and knew how hectic it was when they first landed, right?

Right?

But when he turned around to wave goodbye, Steve had this look. Like Eddie had done something wrong. And as much as he hated to admit it, it took him awhile to figure out why. From Wayne and his friends’ point of view, it looked like he had been flirting with Trent and then hurried to get back to him.

Which had not been the case and he really didn’t want to have have to overexplain to Steve that it wasn’t what it looked like. Eddie already felt like he was pressuring Steve into something he didn’t want to do.

Which he was absolutely not about, at all.

He laid gently on the bed and flopped awkwardly around so that he was face down into the pillow.

Trent, who had gone to the bathroom huff out a startled laugh. “I really don’t want to know, man. Just don’t bring anyone back to the room and I won’t either.”

Eddie mumbled something in reply.

“Sorry I didn’t catch that,” Trent said sitting down on his bed.

Eddie turned his head so that it was no longer smashed into the pillow. “I’m in love with my swimming coach from back home.”

“Ah.”

Trent looked around for a moment and then spotted a folding chair nearby. He grabbed it and set it up next to Eddie. Then sat on it backwards.

“That’s rough shit, Ed,” he said gently. “I can’t imagine what I would do if Lucy was my coach instead of the one of the girls in the club I swim with. Does he know how you feel?”

Eddie sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. “Yeah. And he feels the same. He’s just worried that swimming commission will remove him as my coach and as all the other coaches where I swim are stuck up snobs, they wouldn’t take me on and I’d have to quit again.”

“Ah ha.”

Trent thought for a moment. “There are a couple other options.”

Eddie scoffed. “Like what?”

“Tell them to fuck off?” Trent suggested. “It’s discouraged not forbidden.”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Eddie said rolling his eyes. “But he’s got some serious trauma and has anxiety.”

“Who did you say your coach was?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Okay,” Trent said, his eyes wide in shock. “I’ll admit that even I would tap that if I was gay. Holy shit. Plus like God tier level skill in the water, too. Yeah. Okay. That certainly makes things harder.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie huffed. “So what were your other suggestions for wooing said God?”

Trent pursed his lips together. “Find a coach willing to teach you? Like maybe go to a different pool. Just don’t give up, okay? You really don’t need this right now when you’re about to compete on the world level.”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. “Thanks, Trent.”

“Any time.”

~

Eddie made a huge show of apologizing to Steve about how he flounced off when he should have been more attentive.

Steve laughed. “Eddie, I’m a neurotic mess and you’re human. I’ll okay. I promise.”

The smile that he got in return was blinding. Yeah, okay. He really wanted to kiss those lips. But he was going to wait until after his first meet.

Which was in only twenty minutes.

“Go on!” Steve huffed, shooing the menace away. “You’ll be late and I will not have that over my head.”

Eddie raced off as he shook his head fondly.

“You always did have terrible taste,” Robin said dryly.

Steve pushed her playfully. “Yeah, sure. This coming from Miss ‘Tammy Thompson Doesn’t Sing That Bad’, I don’t believe my taste is any worse than yours.”

Robin cocked her head to the side and then shrugged. “Yeah all right, that’s fair.”

Steve started tapping Robin’s arm. She turned to growl at him, but he pointed at the doors that would lead to the pool.

“What’s Chrissy Cunningham doing lurking outside the pool?” she asked with a frown.

“That’s what I intend to find out,” Steve growled, stalking over to her.

When she saw him coming she let out a startled yelp. That brought Steve up short. She turned to them slowly, like a deer in the headlights.

He leveled Chrissy with his best stern authority glare that he patented with his youth swimming classes. She wilted.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, nervously twisting her fingers together. She looked over at Robin and then blushed. “We’ll need to hurry though.”

She turned on her heel and dashed in the direction of the judges.

“Wait!” Robin cried out as Steve and she hurried after her. “Where are we going?”

Chrissy whirled around and still walking backward said, “The judges need to know that Jason is planting more drugs in Eddie’s locker right now.”

Robin and Steve looked at each other in shock.

“Shit!” they said together and hurried to catch up.

~

Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[weepingpussywillowtree]

A list of behaviors I, as an autistic person who has a social drive, would genuinely like an explanation for:

- why, when I plan something for a group I get little to no response at all when asking about dates, times, and venues, even when being as specific as possible, until the plans are made semi-concrete and I get a barrage of messages about how people hate the venue, they can't do the date, how could I possibly forget that their dog has yoga classes on Tuesdays, etc. then after jumping through all possible hoops and finding the best arrangement for the most number of people, the date comes and almost nobody shows up.

- why people say they want to make new friends and then just add you on social media or you exchange phone numbers and it never goes any further, even when you reach out, and why they get scared off when you suggest something even as casual as getting coffee.

- why people say that your vibes don't match or that you don't vibe (it seems to me this is some kind of code for conventional physical attractiveness??)

- why people will call you their friend to other people (even when they don't know you will hear about it/don't know you can hear them) when you barely know anything about each other and don't hang out and they dodge invites. At what point am I a friend?? At what point can I call someone a friend? Why do you seem excited about me to other ppl when we barely know each other and you seem to be dodging my attempts to get to know you better?

- why we always have to do something that involves pics or going somewhere or spending money, and why it's weird for me to invite you over just to exist in each other's spaces together. Playdates used to be normal?? Sometimes I just wanna talk and watch a movie, or talk and watch you play a game, or just knit and talk?? I thought people liked talking??

- on the flip side, why people say they are looking to go on 'adventures' but then don't want to actually do anything?? Like, if you want to go on an adventure there's a castle down the road, let's go visit. There's a new bakery opening, let's go. Let's go look for rocks at the beach because we can? Is that not what an adventure is? What does this phrase mean if not that?

I am tired and frustrated and feel like something's wrong with me. I want to be your friend, I want to listen to you talk and do things with you or just hang out. I want to help you with things or have you help me with things or just exist together. What test do I have to pass? Why do people tell me years later they wish we could have hung out more after we've moved away from each other or whatever when I was trying to hang out the whole time? Why do I come across as intimidating when that is the opposite of what I am attempting to project? I understand that relationships take time to build but it seems like no one wants to take the time. I get that people work a lot and are tired from it, I am too, but we don't have to do anything special. I'll go to the grocery store with you, I don't care.

I don't get it. I don't get any of it.

[midnight1nk]

So, that WOTFI 2024 trailer...

TRAILER REACTION/ANALYSIS (+BINGO)

[Spoilers below cut]

I did not expect the trailer to be released this soon, color me surprised! Kinda scared to click it tbh. (If you're gonna watch it on YT, just a heads up: tw for flashing images)

Okay... 3... 2... 1... LET'S-A GO!

REACTION & ANALYSIS

[To simplify things, my reaction input will be in blue & bold and my analysis will be in orange & italics. Cool? Coolio 👍]

It starts off showing the carnival grounds.

Presumably, it takes place in the same time frame as the last episode, because of the sun setting. And in the background, you can hear a creepy, carnival-themed rendition of "Silent Night"(???). Oh, nevermind, it's a music box cover for "Rock-a-bye Baby" (link here). Oooh, very scary....

I know it's not much but at least this scene (and surely more later on) gives us some insight into what mini-games were chosen for WOTFI.

Here we have the Ferris Wheel (please be my challenge OMG), The House of Crazy, and the Arcade. And also that strange office building on the third scene I pointed out in last week's episode review. Seriously, what is that building?

We then get this shot of the carnival entrance as the song cover gets interrupted by the next scene.

This looks very much like the background picture used for the WOTFI website. Oh hey look, the cutout of Mr Puzzles wearing Meggy's Western Spaghetti hat is still there.

Cut to the next scene of the camera getting closer to Didney's Engine Room doors with the next scene of SMG4 and Mario running. Huh, correct me if I'm wrong, but the corridor where they're at doesn't seem like the same one that leads to the Engine Room....

And of course, a shot of Leggy with a creepy smile, staring at the camera. It honestly reminds me of Four from the Meme Factory mini-Arc. WE'LL SAVE YOU MEGGY DON'T WORRY!

Then, we got... KAREN HI!

Yup, Karen's here, jumping through a hoop on fire. She would be great in this, considering that she's a former assassin. And she seems to be in this indoor kiddie playground so maybe House of Crazy??? Or just another attraction we haven't seen yet.

More of the camera gets closer to the engine room before we see Bob on one of those bumper cars (likely the one he was strapped in) from the last episode, driving away from a monster.

I'm literally going through this frame by frame and it looks like Bob is in the scary cart ride attraction as spotted in the last episode (left, top-ish corner on the image I put here). I feel bad for Bob omg look how scared he looks.

[Welcome to Puzzle Park // time stamp 2:55]

Closer to the engine room...

Then there's... SAIKO MY GIRL! She's on a tightrope with a pole in her hands, balancing over a floor of lava.

Hold up, where the hell is this? Somehow we're inside of a cave, with pink crystals mind you, and for there to be lava. I don't know if it's just me but it's giving the pit from the 'Let's Go Visit Peach' episode vibes, idk I might've gone insane...

More of Four and Mario running with determination (LOOK AT MY BOYS)

closer to the Engine Room...

And SMG3!!! SOMEONE RESCUE MY BOY ;^;

This reminds me so much of the Puzzlevision waiting stream where Three, Four, and Tari were stuck on the Wheel of Fortune. Also, these scenes are a nice callback to the 'SMG4: The Very Safe & Legal SMG4 Show' episode.

FOUR, GO SAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND

Then... TARI NOOOOO!!!!

OMG IS THAT HER SCREAMING? That is exactly how it went down last episode where she got pulled into the duck pond game.

Now, we should really start to get scared because I predicted that someone would be killed off during WOTFI, and while Mr Puzzles is a likely choice, it might be Tari. Listen, I DON'T WANT HER TO DIE BUT THEY PULLED SHIT LIKE THIS BEFORE, I'M TERRIFIED DUDE.

Closer to the Engine Room...

Oh, Leggy... hi....

Then there's... MELONY!! WE HAVE TO SAVE THEM [*rattles the gates*] LET ME INNNNNN

It looks exactly like the scene from the last episode, the one of the carnival attractions coming to life and chasing Four and Mario around the grounds.

Curious to see Puzzles' head also one of the things that they are chasing her. Not exactly sure where that is but based on the lit screens in the background, she may be on the carnival grounds. Or just inside an attraction we don't know about.

Closer to the Engine Room...

Next is LUIGI!!! This is giving Luigi's Mansion vibes...

And those clown(???) dolls are the same ones that are chasing Melony. It could be that they are in the same place or they used the same assets. Speaking of Luigi's Mansion, this could be the House of Crazy. My poor boy Luigi :'(

Worried about Boopkins, though. He hasn't shown up in the trailer...

Ok, can we finally talk about what's the deal with these two scenes?

Throughout the whole trailer so far, we've seen Four and Mario running, either away from something or in determination to save their friends, but you can't say these happened in the corridor for the Engine Room. If you look in the background, there are bricked columns, carnival-striped poles, and stars.

Meanwhile, the Engine Room corridor has concrete walls with graffiti plastered all over it, and far dirtier compared to the first running scene. Plus, the lighting is completely different.

Seems like the first running scene takes place on the carnival grounds, could be a refresher from the chase scene from the last episode. THEN, they ran again through the Engine Room corridor. Just a repeat of the last episode.

It makes sense honestly because if you think about it, people who aren't catching up on the episodes one by one would look for the WOTFI 2024 arc videos and possibly skip the trailer entirely. Without watching the trailer, they don't miss anything. The cinematic trailer works more as a recap of the last episode while giving teases for WOTFI. So, it works for both passive and active viewers of the show.

Anyway, our Classic OG duo made it to the Engine Room, a play-by-play of what happened at the end of the last episode. And find Mr Puzzles holy shit....

Just like I mentioned last time, Puzzles is very much giving Zero vibes. And also Wren, let's not forget that. Death flags, anyone?

His legs are completely gone, being replaced by wires. He took off his button-down shirt and gloves, revealing his synthetic arms that are connected to even more wires. They are literally plugged into his arms oh my spaghetti gods.

Puzzles manically laugh as some wires wrap around Four's and Mario's legs before being dragged out of the room.

Well, seeing that Mr Puzzles merged himself with the power source, Didney's only rating star, he has control of everything. So it isn't surprising to know that he did that. Would he put them under his control? Or force them to participate in this year's WOTFI? We don't know. But regardless, they don't have a choice. They're the 'missing pieces' of Puzzle Park after all.

No no, actually, WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS? I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE, RIGHT?!?!?! (if you have no idea what I mean, here's the link)

Oh, and the "Rock-a-bye Baby" tune just came back.

Mr Puzzles: "Oh, leaving so soon? The ride's just starting..."

Why exactly did he refer to this as a "ride"? I've analyzed trailers before and I know from experience that this could be a line said during WOTFI. Puzzles could be telling this to someone (not necessarily to Four and Mario) while this person (or people) are attempting to get off a ride.

It could also be a reference to the phrase "rollercoaster ride of emotions" which we the audience have yet to see. Basically, the channel telling us, "Oh you thought you got enough trauma from Meggy forced to turn back into Leggy, and Puzzles merging himself with the power source? You're about to get something way worse". Chat, we aren't ready I swear...

WOTFI LOGO OFFICIAL REVEAL! I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA DO THAT!!

For the past week or so, it was only on the show's account banner, a tiny little version of it. And the one you can download from the website isn't fully in color. Glad to see it fully in color with dramatic lighting :)

AND THE OFFICIAL DATE!

I knew some people were lucky enough to screenshot the banner with the release date on it before the channel quickly replaced it with "COMING SOON". It was speculated that it was gonna be around the 19th but we now have confirmation that it's true. WOTFI's NEXT WEEK, let's gooooooo!

We, of course, have to dress up for the occasion! If you have something carnival theme, put it on! SMG4 Cosplay? Put it on! SMG4 merch? Put it on! Some comfy pajamas with a pair of fun socks? Put it on!

Anyway, for the moment you've all been waiting for...

WOTFI 2024 BINGO

Well, in the 'SMG4 and SMG3 come up with an episode' video (y'know the same one they "hinted" at the carnival coming into the showgrounds), Three proposed the idea of Bingo Night happening in the episode narrative he and Four were making.

Since I've made bingo cards before for my favorite shows...

(Mario, do the thing!)

OUR VERY OWN BINGO CARD FOR THIS YEAR'S WOTFI

AND YOU GUYS WILL HELP ME FILL IT UP!

Comment on this post or drop a suggestion in my ask box, and I will put it on our card! It could be predictions, theories, or people that we will potentially see in WOTFI.

If you want to, you can explain your reasoning as to why you think your suggestion should be on the card. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged for your submission when I post the final product of the card!

OTHER STUFF/UPDATES

As of right now, writing this post, the website is still allowing mini-game submissions, so hurry if you plan to put one in.

Meanwhile, on Twitter...

I FUCKIN KNEW IT I SWEAR-

Then, there's Shadow...

Transcript for audio:

Shadow: "Really quick, I just wanted to drop this before anything else get out of hand. I noticed that everybody saw the trailer for this year's War of the Fat Italians... and well, obviously I can't say much on it but, uh, y'know, I think you guys will love what me and the team got going on right now. The only thing I will say, really though, given with everything's going into it..." [*chuckle*] "I do hold (or hope?) that you guys will enjoy the ride." [*starts singing*] "Come with me and you'll be in a world of pure imagination..." [*sinister laughter*]

...Shadow, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?!?!? YOU GUYS CAN JUST DO THAT

AND Y'ALL WITH THE ;) AGAIN, I'M GOING INSANE

For the account banners, they finally changed from "Coming Soon" to "October 19th" and of course, each account posted the trailer.

Brace yourselves, my dear fellows, 'cause it's going to be one hell of a ride...