#this is unrelated but you would not BELIEVE what i went through to get that cap of rathbone

[zarla-s]

Do/for you have to make references for any other characters in Handplates? Like the mouse or pterofractal? The same goes for the characters that have canon designs in Undertale. Did you ever need a ref for them?

Honestly I like never make reference sheets until something forces me, haha. With the mouse I just go back to the first comic he appeared in and just ref off of those. I might have mentioned this before, I forget, but originally that mouse was supposed to be the mole in the MTT comedy club but then I looked up their speech pattern and it didn't fit, so instead I made them a Rathbone cameo from The Lost Mind of Dr. Brain. :B

I had to improvise his lower body so I just gave him big wading pants lol.

As for Pterofractal, Jaz gave me this!

I do have a folder for canon refs, mostly screenshots I've taken to get colors and layouts for certain areas in the Underground, haha. And some sprite sheets if I need them.

Nothing really official or purposeful though, just screencaps and snips from other files I end up reusing.

[p0orbaby]

Too Hot To Handle

summary: Alexia doesn’t want the past to repeat itself

warnings: a smidge of heatstroke, and a collapse, how fun

a/n: thanks for the request !

word count: 828

-

Record temperatures they said.

You can believe it.

The aircon was dearly missed as soon as you stepped off the bus.

“Aquí”. You turn to find a bottle of water being eagerly pushed into your empty hands. “Necesitas mantenerte hidratado”

“I’ve just finished one” you tell her, ready to put the bottle in your backpack for safe keeping. But the look she gives you tells you there’s no room for arguments. You roll your eyes at her stubbornness, “thanks, Ale”

“De nada”

Girlfriend, captain, synonyms of each other, really. Her protectiveness spans over both mantles. That’s Alexia for you, in control of every situation, regardless of whether football is involved or not.

You take the bottle from her with the intention of sipping on it as you get changed for warm-ups, but she grabs your wrist and stops you from following your teammates into the stadium.

“Ahora, cariño”

“Alexia,” you start, very aware of the horde of fans calling for the two of you. “I’ll be pissing like a horse if I have any more right now”

She looks at you with a furrowed brow and a tilt of her head. Her English has improved immensely since you’ve been together, but even now some phrases catch her out.

“Necesito el baño” you clarify.

She relents, partly because the sun is beating down on her, partly because she doesn’t want to make a scene in front of the sea of traveling blaugrana.

Their dedication is rewarded with a wave and a smile from her, and a shrug of the shoulders from you as you're whisked away towards the changing rooms.

-

The game started as usual, but the scorching sun quickly turned every movement into a struggle. The hydration breaks were a welcome respite, yet even those seemed insufficient as the match wore on. You pushed yourself, focusing on the ball, the strategies, and your teammates, but the heat was unrelenting.

With every sprint, your legs grew heavier, and your head pounded in rhythm with your racing heart. You caught glimpses of Alexia, her worry evident despite her composed exterior. She was always perceptive, always attuned to you, and now was no different.

You ignored the warning signs, convincing yourself you could handle it, that you had to push through for the team. But as the game entered its final stretch, your vision began to tunnel, and a wave of dizziness washed over you.

Just a few more minutes, you thought, trying to steady yourself. But your body had other plans.

The ground felt like it was moving beneath you, your legs buckling under the strain. You stumbled, hearing a distant shout, but before you could process what was happening, everything went dark.

-

She still blames herself, even after all this time.

You weren’t together then, not quite. The lines between teammates and more were starting to blur as your relationship blossomed in the shadows.

You know she feels guilty for not keeping a closer eye on you during that match, afraid that her concern would draw too much attention to the two of you. She didn’t want people to find out about your relationship before you were ready to go public. The secrecy made her hesitant, and she worries that her hesitation contributed to your collapse.

You’ve told her countless times that it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t have known. But Alexia, ever the leader and protector, took it to heart. Since then, she’s been extra vigilant, constantly checking in, making sure you’re taking care of yourself.

Today’s heat brings those memories back, and you can see the worry etched on her face despite her attempts to stay focused on the game.

You push yourself to play smart, to stay aware of your limits, knowing that’s the best way to ease her mind. As the match progresses, you find yourself glancing at her frequently, sharing small smiles and nods of reassurance. Each time your eyes meet, there’s a silent understanding between you, a promise that you’ll both be careful.

When the final whistle blows, signaling a hard-fought victory, you make your way over to Alexia. She’s already looking your way, concern and relief in her eyes. But before you can even say a word, she’s ushering you towards the shade near the bench, her hand firm on your back.

“Drink,” she says, shoving another bottle of water into your hand.

She must mean business if she's dusting off language number three.

“Ale, I’m fine,” you start, but she cuts you off with a determined look cutting through her sweaty features.

“Drink,” she repeats. Deadly serious.

You sigh but comply, taking a few sips to placate her. “¿Lo veis? I’m drinking”

She nods, but her eyes scan you from head to toe, making sure you’re really okay. “Bien. Continúa”

You know there’s no point in arguing, so you take another sip. “Happy?”

“Por ahora,” she mutters, still watching you closely. She doesn’t relax until you’ve downed half the bottle.

[midnightloversmusic]

I would absolutely love some hurt/comfort with poly!marauders. I struggle a lot with anxiety and shit, so if possible, maybe something to do with that? Thanks :)

Hiii i’m sorry this took so long for some reason every time I went to write this i’d blank but I finally got it finished and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

—

Your Job made you want to throw up. Even now sitting in your car about to leave, just the thought of it was enough to get your heart racing and your mind whirling. You have wanted this job since you were a kid. Back then it all seemed mystical. A place that would be filled with unicorns and rainbows. Then you got to high-school and suddenly everyone was telling you wherever you work there would be an asshole boss and mean colleagues. Even when this was being hammered into your head, you held out hope. All the way through college you grasped onto that hope with unrelenting force.

Then you graduated and worked your way up to your dream job. You had worked your ass off in other words. Even with the jobs you had along the way, of course they were shitty, but you held out hope for once in your life and believed that this job would be better. It would be perfect.

God were you wrong.

Now when you come home from work you’re absolutely exhausted. Your new boss has worn you down by overworking you. But you’re new and still believe you have to prove yourself so you do it all with no complaint. Not to mention your colleagues, who seem to see you as a tool to do all of the work they don’t want to do. But in order to become friendly with them, you try to hand out as many favors as you can, while being swamped with work of your own. You are stressed thinking about the next day of work almost immediately as you set foot inside your house.

Your sweet, loving, caring boyfriends have noticed a change in your demeanor. Your shoulders are tighter, posture stiff, movements languid because your body is so exhausted. After work one day James came behind you as you were cooking and wrapped his arms around your torso. He had whispered softly in your ear asking if you were alright and if there was anything he can do. You brushed him off and said you were just tired and he doesn’t need to worry. He’s been sending you worried glances ever since. Sirius had been silently studying you. He knows body language more fluently than any form of speaking because of the environment he grew up in. He could see it in your stance, something was wrong. He didn’t want to beat around the bush so he just asked you what was bothering you. Over and over and over again. Each time you’d respond with an over exaggerated sigh, saying

“I’m just tired Siri. There is nothing to worry about.”

or you’d let out a stiff laugh and quip

“Is there something wrong with you you’re not saying? Why are you always so insistent on talking about me?”

You know it’s a low blow and he was only trying to help but you’re already on edge and you don’t want your boyfriends to know what’s going on because if they know you are sure to have a breakdown, and you do not have time for a breakdown right now.

Remus hasn’t said anything to you yet, but his actions definitely express worry. When you come home from work as soon as you have set your stuff down Remus is up making you a cup of tea. Or he’s sitting on the couch patting the seat next to him asking you if you’d like him to read to you, or watch your favorite movie, or binge the new season of your favorite TV show. Sometimes he’ll just come beside you a massage your shoulder and let out a disapproving hum at the tightness. Hell mummer under his breath as if he was talking to himself,

“Working my girl too hard”

So that’s why sitting in your car about to leave for work, your stomach is turning. The stress of impressing your boss, pleasing your fellow employees, and keeping your stress from the boys has become to much. There’s nothing you can do as you pull out of the driveway and repeat the mantra in your head saying don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

Later that day when you are pulling back into the driveway somehow your day has gotten worse. You had to pull over on the side of the road and flash your hazards because your eyes got too cloudy from the constant fall of tears streaming down your face. Everything was just too much. And the thing is you are a hard worker. You fought tooth and nail for this job. You want this job. You were supposed to love this job. Instead your overcome with waves of panic every-time you think about going into work. Every-time a colleague texts you and you hear the unmistakable ping you flinch. It’s been consuming your mind fully since the day you started and you broke down.

You don’t care about hiding it from the boys anymore. You just need a hug. You blindly reach for your car door, making note that James isn’t home yet, and all but fling yourself inside the house. You’re letting out gut wrenching sobs and you feel like you can’t breathe. You’re practically suffocating in your jacket and you need it off. Off off off off off. You repeat over and over in your mind, or maybe out loud you’re really not sure anymore, as your shaky hands fail again and again to reach your zipper. Sirius is the first to get to you. His heart practically stops at the sight.

“Love, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He scans over your body. Checking if he can see any physical damage. When he decides there is no life-threatening wounds, at least that he can see, he jumps into action.

“Hey, hey, hey” he says,

The last ‘hey’ coming out more sternly than the others. You look up at him and your heart somehow shatters more. His face looks so caring and scared. You sob harder at the sight and continue to pull at the neck of your jacket.

“it’s okay, I got it. C’mon let’s walk over to the couch okay? Sh it’s okay, you’re okay”

As Sirius takes your zipper into his hands and urgently, but less harshly, zips it down he slowly pulls you to the couch. Remus emerges from the hallway and immediately goes still at the sight. He rushed to the kitchen to get a glass of water and comes back to help Siri pick up your broken pieces.

When you finally catch enough breath to sob out

“I just don’t know how i’m going to do it anymore!”

“Do what m’love?” Remus quietly questioned while stroking your hair,

“My job!” you practically shouted into Siri’s chest. “My boss is throwing me on every project and he knows it’s too much! He wants me to fail and I don’t want him to win so i’ve been doing it all. But the better I do the more he assigns and I can’t keep up with it anymore”

Both boys comforting you share a worried glanced at each-other. Having a silent conversation with their eyes. Just as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, the unmistakable sound of the door opening and James yelling out,

“The loves of my life, i’m home!”

Really James has immaculate humorous timing. When he realizes no one has answers he scans the room quickly before his eyes catch on you curled up in a ball practically on top of Sirius and Remus kneeling on the ground in front of you.

His face immediately falls.

“Baby, what happened?”

The utter concern in his voice and his caring expression made you let out another sob and re-explain the story and add in a few more details about how your coworkers have been treating you.

Once you’ve spilled your guts the boys concerned faces only worded causing you slight confusion. You just told them what’s wrong, they comforted you, now you should go back to normal.

Remus is the first to speak

“The next time you’re feeling anxious about anything, especially your job, just tell me, Sirius, or James and we can talk about it or try to take your mind off of it. It’s not good to be stressed all the time, especially when you aren’t telling anyone about it. A job should never make you this upset. I know you love it but I think you should have a serious conversation with your boss when your ready.”

Sirius adds in,

“I could help you write up a speech or I could just march right in there with you. But please come and see me when your feeling anxious, or shoot me a text while your at work”

“We love you and we want you to be happy and if this job isn’t making you happy, I say drop it and find one that makes you love it the way we love you.”

James mumbles as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, taking away your tears.

[inkdemonapologist]

FINALLY got these scribbles from last session of the Cthulhu game scanned in lmao, THINGS HAVE BEEN SO BUSY but cthulhu has been very exciting!!

While looking for some Alan Leroy guy to figure out why the Phantom is following(?) him(?), we asked around with (a) his book club friends and (b) the mob, as one does. Sammy managed to avoid seeing the yellow sign when he realised very quickly what Cool Obscure Book this book club pal might be describing (unlike Jack, a polite boy who does not RAPIDLY AVERT HIS EYES FROM HIS CONVERSATIONAL PARTNER), but did not manage to avoid being hustled off by the mob to talk to The Boss when Henry asked just a few too many questions. it went fine but Sammy was SO STRESSED, HES ALREADY BEEN KIDNAPPED BY GANGSTERS ONCE HE DOESNT WANT TO DO IT AGAIN

also hes still cute in this hat. you should wear hats more often sammy. ANYWAY if you're here for Out of Context quotes from this session, I GOT EM RIGHT HERE UNDER THE CUT:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] He will mention to Henry, something about "Oh boy, dreams are starting up again" kind of thing. [Henry] Yyyyup. [Henry] Don't get possessed again. [Sammy] [Sammy] i dON'T THINK SAMMY KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH THAT!! The last time he got possessed was BY PROPHET, whom he still shares a body with!! [Henry] Prophet doesn't count! Don't get possessed by anyone else. [Sammy] .... I'LL DO MY BEST, [Sammy] I just like the idea of Henry being like 'don't get possessed' and Sammy just LOOKS at him, like............ I'm already possessed, what are you talking about

[Sammy] Given how these things like to happen on auspicious days, I'm a little worried about New Years,

[Joey] That's exactly the spin he's going to put on it -- Some time off for New Years, and a bonus day off to recover from the celebrations! [Jack] Gotta account for those, now that drinking's back!

[Henry] Oh good, I was really worried Joey would call Norman and get a "who are you?" [Jack] Norman DOES do that, but just because he thinks it's funny. [GM] That's possible, yeah, [Sammy] Oh my gosh. I believe it, is the thing. [GM] I do too, honestly... this might just be a thing that happens.

[GM] And the studio seems normal, and nobody got kidnapped in the night, not even Norman, and Henry's family is safe -- things are doing so good! [Jack] Nobody that we're currently in contact with got kidnapped in the night! [GM] That's true. [Jack] I'm not ruling out Bertrum getting kidnapped. [Jack] ...unrelated to the Carcosa nonsense, he just got kidnapped. [GM] That's what he gets for hanging out with the mob. [Jack] Sorry, I mean, "The Great Bertrum Piedmont." Have to use his full and official title. [GM] That's how you get him un-kidnapped, he just breaks through a wall to correct you. [Jack] *laughing* The Kool-Aid Bert................ [GM] The Great Kool-Aid Piedmont, [Jack] Now that's fanart I don't want to see.

[GM] Welcome back! We've been talking about the Great Bertrum Piedmont Kool-Aid-ing through a wall to correct you about his name. [Sammy] *startled wheezing* Okay, well it sounds like I've missed some really important developments!

[Jack] I think Jack would lean in the direction of like, they wanted to get in touch with him at the charity thing-- aaagh, that's technically not true. He's not the fast talk boy, he's not allowed to, [Sammy] I mean, he CAN fast talk, Henry does it all the time! [Jack] But does he succeed-- [Sammy] Henry's not the Fast Talk Boy but he keeps LYING anyway!!!

[Sammy] I feel like Jack is good at looking worried, and, caring about his fellow man, [Jack] I don't think he has to TRY to look worried??? [Sammy] I don't think Sammy contains these qualities. Sammy looks like he's here to arrest you. [GM] She's actually giving Sammy a concerned look, [Sammy] Sammy is HERE FOR THE PROTECTION MONEY.

[Jack] Well, this was lovely! Time to leave, because Sammy's already... vibrating against the door trying to clip through it.

[Sammy] Sammy's IMMEDIATELY going to tell him about this clarinet with the missing E flat extension. [Sammy] ....and then ALSO mention that he thinks maybe he's seen this guy before.

[Joey] Joey slightly fixes Henry's hair before they head in. [Sammy] (That's a little bit gay, but alright,) [Jack] (I think it's more than a little bit) [Joey] LISTEN, listen, Joey recognises-- [Jack] Linda's out of town! [Joey] --Joey recognises the neighbourhood,

[GM] The door gets opened pretty quickly, but the guy inside actually looks a little like he's suddenly out of his depth, because whatever he was expecting to happen is not what is happening. [Sammy] That's a common reaction to Joey Drew.

[Joey] I feel like it's not going to be a fast talk roll, actually, to make this guy feel like this is NOT a dangerous ask? So I'm gonna go with persuade instead. [GM] Are you going with the tack that you were concerned parties from the event? [Joey] I think, concerned party, perhaps leaning towards the notion that they hit it off well at the party, and -- I'm just turning it into a fast talk, [Joey] *trying again* I think Joey is leaning more into an idea that they are freshly met, but have similar interests? Or... possibly leaning into he's ...a friend of a friend and we're looking into it for that friend? [Sammy] Joey trying NOT to lie is really funny. "Oh well obviously I'll just say -- oh, I guess that's not true; I'll just -- WELL, that's not technically true either," [Joey] ADMITTEDLY, if this does turn into a fast talk roll, using the same roll it's now a BETTER SUCCESS, so, [Sammy] Just really funny how hard it is for Joey to just, HONESTLY REASSURE someone without inventing a whole narrative [Joey] I'M GOOD AT COMING UP WITH STORIES!! I'm not good at... fact-checking them first...

[Joey] Please, if you hear from him, or get any more information, please reach out to us as soon as possible, because the sooner we can prevent this, the better off he'll be -- y'know, that whole thing! [Joey] Do the most heartfelt, emotional connection he can... it's a little gay, but... [Sammy] I fully believe in Joey's ability to extoll the virtues of this man he's never met.

[Sammy] We can just check with Norman, have him peek out the window and see if it looks weird, [Joey] "Hey Norman, is your house in the right location?" [Jack] "Dunno why you called me outside just to tell me that you moved my house!"

[GM] Norman answers the door, and gives you guys a quizzical look. [Henry, out of character] :D Hey, did your house move? [Sammy, in-character] >:/ Did your house move?

[Sammy] Sammy will point out things Jack noticed as being different, as if he also noticed them. [GM] He'll turn back to you, and just kind of observe in a blase sort of way that he's apparently moved. [Jack] I love Norman,,,, [Joey] I love Norman's 89% Sanity score that never gets hit, apparently! [Jack] His sense of humour is actually an indefinite insanity. [Sammy] A constant coping mechanism, [Jack] Can't go insane when you already are!!

[Jack] Jack is, not happy about this, [GM, as Norman] He wonders if you'd like to come in for a housewarming, then.

[Sammy] Sammy's going to just catch her up on, the guy we're looking for read the play, [Sammy] Also, might be a guy that Sammy saw in New Orleans, and that might be why he knew the music?? [Sammy] ALSO, WEIRD THING with his clarinet, he doesn't have the E flat extension that you'd EXPECT HIM TO HAVE? [GM] I think Susie knows enough that she would say that's weird if he's playing seriously. [Jack] I was about to ask if this meant anything to these two-- [Joey] Norman is regaining sanity by watching Sammy rattle on about all this. [GM] He's probably chiming in opinions, too, that are completely not based in any actual musical knowledge -- [Henry] Norman just like "He's missing the E extension? Next he's gonna lose the, the F Shortener!" [GM] "What's the world coming to!" [Sammy] Sammy's giving him the most unamused look, and this is all Norman wanted. [GM] Yeah, yeah, this is how he keeps his sanity high. [Sammy] Just annoy Sammy Lawrence. That's the secret.

[Jack] Good to make sure things aren't going weirder over here-- which, uhhh, [Sammy] Which they are!!

[Sammy] That's smart, but that's also really spooky. Like okay, cool! The whole world has re-written this! Cool cool cool cool cool. [GM] He doesn't seem PLEASED about it, but he seems about normal. [Henry] He seems Norman about it. [Jack] Yeah, Normal Polk. [Jack] *cracking up* He shows up at work the next day and he's called "Normal Ponk." That's his name now.

[Jack] Reality's rewriting itself, wanna kiss about it? [Henry] Ah, Jack's okay again.

[Jack] If this was Fowler, then WHO WAS PHONE????

[GM] Well, okay, first things first, does Joey have Peter's number memorised? [Joey] HM. [Joey] ...I feel like he wouldn't admit it, but yes.

[Joey] Joey says he's going to call Peter back in a minute. And hangs up. [GM] You cut him off in the middle of some sort of response-- [Joey] Cool.

[Joey] He managed to break into a safe once by doing this! [Henry] "Break into" is... a bit of a strong phrasing. [GM] *mumbling* "Get locked inside of,"

[Joey] The main thing is, Do Not Go Alone, because if something happens to Peter... we have no way of tracking down the information that he has! We, we lose, all of his evidence! [Jack] .....and that's the ONLY thing, [Joey] Yup! [Henry] We ALSO lose his, HIM, [Joey] *mumbling* No, no that doesn't matter as much, as evidence, [Joey] It's clearly just, the fact that they lose all the benefits of having a reporter with ghost powers on their side, and NOT Peter himself, that is the issue! [Jack] iTS NOT LIKE HE CARES ABOUT YOU OR ANYTHING!!!

[Jack] *spongebob meme* You like Peter Sunstram, don't you, Joey?

[Joey] Both Henry and Sammy are the best able to get themselves out of a tough, fight-y situation, [Sammy] We can both punch, and Henry has magical power if something supernatural happens... [Joey] Also! Also, neither Joey nor Jack are there to be taken hostage and used against them! [Sammy] ... I think you're actually right. I hate to admit it, but I think you're right. [Jack] I can't wait for Jack to be kidnapped at the magic shop, you guys!

[Henry] I can't believe we're sending the two least talky boys off together to talk to the mob, [Joey] LISTEN. Henry and Sammy can go to the restaurant! Henry likes food! There we go! [GM] I can't believe Joey's just making sure Henry gets a nice meal after his shake-up earlier... [Sammy] I dunno, maybe Peter should come with us, just in ghost form. Henry can see him, potentially, [Jack] So Pete's body can... Not be where he left it when he gets back to it! [Sammy] ....hm, [Joey] *startled laughter* [Sammy] ....okay, nevermind,... [Jack] Just leave him in the car, what could go wrong! That's not disappeared MULITPLE TIMES!

[GM] Johnny Nero is of average height and build, with dark, slicked back hair, and a neatly trimmed moustache -- so not like any of the other people that you know! [GM] Wears expensive tailored suits, though. [Jack & Joey] *snickering* So, not like, any of the people you know-- [GM] It narrows it down a bit!! [Sammy] Alright, alright; bargain bin Joey Drew, got it.

[GM] You guys do get an offer to have food, while you're waiting. [Sammy] Yeah.... why not..... [Henry] Henry will, not,,, [Joey] *shocked* NO????? [Joey] *absolutely flabbergasted* FOOD!!!!! [Sammy] Gangsters don't usually poison you, they usually give you nice food and then they knock you out and throw you in the river. [Henry] WELL HENRY DOESNT KNOW THAT! [GM] He hasn't done speakeasies like Sammy has!!

[Sammy] I'm noticing that this guy actually looks really nervous, and isn't taking charge of the situation, [GM] He DOES have something that's probably a firearm in his pocket. [Sammy] Yeah, yeah, but, [Jack] It's his emotional support firearm!

[Sammy] Actually... Sammy WILL ask him if he saw it. [GM] Uh, [Sammy] Because he was RIGHT THERE looking at him. And I feel like, once you've seen it, and it does the weird thing where it gets in your head, you're not going to be confused what somebody's talking about if they ask you if you saw the yellow sign. You're going to know what that means. [GM] [GM] Are you going to say the thing...? [Sammy] Have You Seen The Yellow Sign?

[Henry] Henry is half-considering... [Sammy] *manically excited* DO YOU WANT TO TAKE THE THORN OUT OF THIS LION'S PAW, HENRY???

[Henry] You haven't been able to think straight since, have you? [GM] He kind of squints at you, because he's a gangster and he doesn't want to be like "D: YEAH, ITS BEEN REALLY ROUGH :(" [Joey] *laughs* Henry IMMEDIATELY knows this look, because Joey does this as well!

[Sammy] Push the roll!! Push push push! [Henry] *nervous* I DON'T KNOW IF I WANT TO PUSH IT,,, [Sammy] WE'RE ALREADY KIDNAPPED! WHAT ELSE CAN GO WRONG!

[Henry] We didn't get kidnapped, so it's you guys' turn! [Joey] We have the kidnapping charm with us, also known as "Jack Fain"! [Sammy] Oh I thought it was Peter Sunstram. [Sammy] [Sammy] DO THEY STACK?

[Jack] I can't wait for us to get to these spooky occult magic shops, and it's just like, "here's a bunch of overpriced tumbled gemstones and some incense!" [GM] The first one you go to is kind of that style. [Jack] Ideal! I hope they have a really tacky fake skull. [Joey] Joey is judging the whole place.

[Joey] WAIT, wait, they took you from the bar to the restaurant, and then you got the heckin' sign out of Nero's head, and he's not even gonna offer you a ride back to the bar?!? [Henry] I think what we got out of it is "not being kidnapped". [GM] JOEY is the one with the history of talking kidnappers into giving him rides, [Sammy] I do think it would be classier if he gave us a ride. I'm with Boo on this, it would be a classy gangster move. [Sammy] With that guy they kidnapped to do music for whoever's birthday party, they dropped him back off later, but, you know, it's fine, [Joey] Show your heckin' appreciation! *exasperated* THIS IS HOW WE CAN TELL HE'S AVERAGE!! [GM] Uh, lemme roll a quick like............. etiquette roll, [Sammy] Gangster Classiness, [GM] *rolls terribly* Yeah, I think he's frazzled enough -- this is gonna reflect poorly on him later. [Joey] Wow.

[Jack] Normal success for Jack! How many terrible tacky skulls do I see? [GM] Just SO many. [Sammy] This place won't help you, buddy. [Jack] I dunno, if you buy enough tacky skulls, maybe the guy won't wanna get near you. [Henry] Just throw tacky skulls at him! [Jack] A tacky skull a day keeps the pallid mask away!!

[GM] A more discerning occult collection than the other one. [Jack] The kind of place that has the more occult things like, in a locked cabinet instead of in a heap on the counter. [Sammy] In the bargain bin, [Jack] "Box of assorted random magic junk"? Yeah, I wanna rummage my hand in that, I'm not gonna get five curses, [Jack] *laughs* I'm not even AT the other place anymore and I'm still dunking on it! [Sammy] Jack's just saying these things to Joey to like, keep his spirits up. [Joey] It would be working,

[Sammy] I am curious if the restaurant is at the same address that we remember it being on. [GM] It is the same address! The name is different. [Jack] What's the new name? [GM] Lombardi's! It was Leon's. [Henry] ... some dude got his whole name changed, [Jack] Oh man, when do they do that to me, I want a legal name change! [Jack] Bringing the Yellow King into the world to get a free transition, [Sammy] No! Don't do it! He won't transition you into a human, it'll be..... something else,

[Henry] We're gonna run over the Pallid Mask. Vroom vroom motherfucker.

[GM] You do bump into something that is unyielding. [Jack] Oh no, Jack's car! [Jack] ... and also, whatever he hit, I guess!

[Joey] Joey is immediately flipping around to grab his cane; if the guy tries to get in the car, he's going to bash him in the face! and say GET OUT!! [Sammy] Well, it worked really well for Nero, so [Henry] The guy just got hit by a car and didn't move! I don't think the cane's gonna do much! [Jack] Especially not with Joey's weak noodle arms! [Joey] Yeah but he's upset!! That this guy is trying to get in the car! He was not invited in! [GM] ...make a CON roll. [Joey] [Joey] oKEY DOKEY,,,

[Sammy] Peter now is NOT the time to astral project [GM] Luckily he doesn't have that insanity currently, or he'd already be gone! [Jack] The car stops and Pete's ghost just flies through the windshield,

[Jack] I'm losing my mind... [GM] You are! 1d6 of it!

[GM] This is kind of wild magic zone, so you get some creative license. [Joey] Hmm. Hmm! Hmmmmmm... [Sammy] Oh no, you've given Joey Drew creative license,

[Joey] But when I picked out Jack's car, it's the first car that has full safety glass in it!! [Jack] [Jack] SO EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE TO REPLACE!!!

[spectres-fulcrum]

I have a theory

Okay, I think something spooked Tommy in the loft scene and I think that's part of why he ended it so suddenly. Like how they did it was cruel, but I think I see what ended up spooking him. It was how Buck was speaking to him. Buck wasn't speaking to him like Evan, like his boyfriend, he was speaking like a baby queer in awe of what people like Tommy-older queers from a harder time period.

Like he was talking about how he admires how comfortable Tommy is in his skin because he wasn't always confident in his sexuality. And he specifically says they would have the right to get married "thanks to the brave people that came before, including you."

Like it's good to admire a partner, but as someone who has had a huge crush on a professor, putting a love interest on a pedestal is not... Good. It ends in you in a million pieces on the ground questioning everything that happened because as it happened you didn't see it as it truly happened because he was so far above you and you never saw him as anything but on that pedestal. Sorry that's unrelated but personal.

And that's not what Buck feels, but it's kinda how Buck sounded. In awe of what Tommy has gone through, the storms he weathered. In a baby queer way, not a partner way. And Josh and his speech is 100% at fault for it.

And then Tommy. Who has dated baby queers who didn't love him, but was in awe of his bravery. And then left him bereft and went on to date men they actually loved. It might have happened so many times.

So when Evan starts the same old speech of admiration and people that came before him, he knows this ends exactly the way it was always going to.

Buck realizing this was just awe, his first. And he gets spooked. Because he's actually invested this time.

So he runs. And they could for sure rebound from this but we know as of the airing of the episode they don't intent to.

(I fully believe I just gave this more thought Tim Minear/Oliver Stark did btw)

EDIT: And maybe he doesn't think he's worthy of that awe??? Maybe that's part of it. That's not a huge part of it but a side thought.

[lilacxquartz]

under the bed, where midnight slept

oc male!demon x human female!reader

plot: haunted by a strange presence every night before you go to sleep, you decide to get to the bottom of it.

w.c: 2.4k

tags/themes: one shot, oc, maybe light yandere, kissing mentioned, incubus, demons, reader insert, first person pov, light horror, unrequited feelings

side notes: developed a incubus demon oc a couple of days ago :) his name is midnight & i’m basically gonna try writing for him on and off to flesh out his character (but i can’t draw more of him just yet due to the arm situation).

***

I always went to sleep alone.

Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself—that’s what I wanted to believe. I lived by myself, after all, so it would have been silly to assume otherwise.

Yet, every single night, I felt it. A presence that lurked within the shadows, watching my every move.

At first, I chalked it up to simple exhaustion, convinced that my job was finally getting to me in the worst possible way. I worked long and heavy hours throughout the week, sometimes even during weekends. My unfortunate reality meant that I was often very tired, leading me to usually be on the brink of dozing off by the end of my shift.

But then my mind began to wander, especially as the recurring experiences became more and more commonplace. My secondary suspicion was that I must have been dreaming or I must have been hallucinating, however, why were the happenings then so linear? I had been under stress before and I have had many nightmares in my life—yet those always manifested in a chaotic manner instead.

And that’s exactly what started to bother me, because dreams, while recurring, couldn’t have been so perfectly refined.

It was always the same experience, in fact.

I would lie down in bed and just as I was on the verge of sleep, I’d hear it—a whisper of some sort, faint and scratchy, like an out of tune radio. Then the floorboards would softly creak and I would feel the second thing; the unmistakable presence of something, maybe even someone else entering my personal space.

For just a split second, right at the cusp of entering the unconscious world; I would feel a strange warmth fill out my otherwise vacant hand. Something unseen that would latch onto my palm, weaving what felt like fingers through mine and squeezing tight.

Yet if I awoke during the night for whatever reason at all, it would immediately vanish from my grasp.

I even checked under the bed with a flashlight once, never finding a single shred of evidence.

And in the mornings, the presence wasn’t felt at all.

Although sometimes, a trace of it did remain; a hint of something that was left behind. It was during the nights when I would get up to drink some water from the kitchen or to go use the bathroom, that I didn’t feel entirely alone. It was an unsettling feeling but it was there—lurking in my peripheral vision, just barely staying hidden.

It was the presence of something uninvited.

Whenever I’d flick the lights on however, there would be absolutely nothing. Not a single trace of evidence remained. Lost overnight, like a distant dream.

It would either happen just as I was about to fall asleep or not at all.

Despite this, it never truly felt like it was a problem.

For one, it wasn’t as if it was actually disrupting my sleep. In fact, I would always wake up feeling well rested with each fresh day no matter how overworked I would be. Yet, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there must have been more to all of this. Something that lurked in the back of my mind that refused to let it go as an unsolved mystery.

It made sense given my stubborn personality, I supposed. I knew that there had to be a reason for it all, no matter how insane it all seemed.

So when my unrelenting curiosity finally caved in, I could no longer ignore the unanswered question, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to let it go until I finally found an answer.

Whether it was all in my head or not—I had the right to know.

So, on one particular night, I chose to catch whatever it actually was that lurked away in the shadows. My plan was simple enough; choosing to fool it into showing itself by pretending to sleep. I slipped two wireless earbuds into my ears, tuning them into a podcast to hold my attention before laying off to my side, just like usual.

To ensure that I would actually stay awake however, I would on occasion stretch out my legs or clench my fists to ward off any hints of exhaustion along with deep, slowly measured breaths that casted the illusion of feigned slumber.

I continued with that sort of ritual in mind, just barely hanging onto my remaining consciousness, just about to fall asleep from what I believed to be a failed effort, but that’s also right about when I finally heard it; a subtle creaking, perfectly timed with each drawn out breath to mask its approach.

A shiver of unease crept into my body as I felt a lurking presence loom behind me, confirming to every sense I had that I was no longer alone.

In an attempt of bravery, I continued to feign sleep for as long as I possibly could, staying tucked away into my assigned position, having my hand right where it always was, hoping to successfully delude whatever it was waiting for me that I was actually on the verge of dreaming.

However, the moment that something slipped into my waiting hand, my composure began to crumble away. It was definitely a hand that I felt. I could feel it with every fibre of my being, in fact; so warm and soft, yet with an unsettling firmness, like marbled flesh. It clasped my palm tightly, interlocking its digits between my fingers in what felt like a suffocating grip.

My breath then caught in the back of my throat as the momentum faltered despite my efforts to keep my act running as smooth as possible. Towards the surface of my back, I felt something dangerous settle right behind me. Raw skin, hot against my own, pressed up right against my exposed flesh. A wave of panic coursed through my body, anchoring in the pit of my stomach as I then soon felt something attempt to embrace me.

I gasped in retaliation, unintentionally giving away that I was in fact awake.

Without even waiting for its reaction, my body involuntarily tensed, prompting for it to withdraw slightly and with a surge of adrenaline, I then tore away from the unknown presence—lurching to the other side of the bed and pressing my back right up against the wall.

I knew for a fact that it disliked bright lights, so my next course of action was to seize the opportunity of the moonlight that shone right outside to reveal its identity to me instead. With a swift pinch, I flung the blinds open, bathing my bedroom in a cold glow that revealed a monstrous figure to me, basking it in the soft blue light.

At first when I saw it, I didn’t really have a reaction.

I was left feeling stunned… speechless, even.

It was so beyond anything I could comprehend from this world, that I was left rendered unable to form a single coherent thought.

I mean, who could do anything different in my shoes?

Just over the bed sat a kneeling figure; its form shrouded entirely in wisping shadows—its body flickering like black fire with tendrils of darkness whipping from its void-like core. The creature’s eyes glowed a pale grey with lacking pupils, yet I knew that its gaze was pointed right at me.

My eyes continued to widen as I studied it—a rushed slurry of internal scolding flooding my mind, telling me off for daring to be so curious.

Back then, I didn’t know what to expect.

But it certainly wasn’t a monster.

Still, in spite of my fear, I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to learn more about the entity I shared a living space with.

With trembling courage and an insecure tone, I managed to utter, “What… are you?”

The creature’s initial reaction in response to me was to remain stationary, as if showing hesitation within its otherwise threatening demeanour. It then tilted its head to the side, emitting a low static-like hum that only continued to feed further into my unease.

Finally, however, it spoke.

“Don’t be afraid,” were its first words ever to me; it had a deep and almost melodic voice, almost human-like but tainted with something deceptive below the surface. I felt like a deluded sailor talking to a siren lost at sea, yet I was right at home.

I choked back any possible response I had brewing in the back of my mind though, paralysed by my own panic that locked my words somewhere far away. My heart thundered deep within my chest, drowning out all remaining rational thought and sent waves of fear coursing through my entire body.

I was trapped.

A tense moment passed us both by as nothing was said for a while, but then it started to back away from the bed and slowly arose to reveal its true height. Its features became clearer in the moonlight, revealing protruding horns from its head with long wavy locks of black hair.

I gulped hard as I watched it straighten its back and tower over me, its height just barely contained by the confines of my own bedroom—its horns almost scraping against the ceiling. I could just hardly, if at all, comprehend just how tall this creature truly was.

“I only wish to comfort you,” it insisted, taking a calculated step back. Whether it was to lull me into a false sense of security or not, I couldn’t be too certain and despite its words, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending dread of it being an actual monster, at least at first.

Such a bizarre and surreal display left me wondering if I was in fact dreaming; my mind desperately grasping at anything that could have explained the impossible sight before me, but upon pinching my own skin, only the sharp sting of reality remained.

“Y-you’re real?” I could only ask, a hint of dismay colouring my voice.

“Yes,” it nodded, confirming my fears.

Another strained silence brewed between us for another minute. I stared at the monster and it looked directly back at me. I did my best in the meantime to express my visual discomfort, hoping that it would continue to leave me alone, however, it instead misinterpreted my stunned silence as an invitation to move forward and close the distance between us.

As it leaned in, I pressed myself harder against the wall in a last attempt to convey my reluctance, hoping—praying, that it would take it as a hint to finally back off, but it persisted, ignoring my silent protest and leaving me frozen from fear instead.

With continued building terror, I watched as the creature reached out, extending its hand towards me with what appeared to be sharp fingernails—brushing against my face before cupping my cheeks. I felt its fingers curl around the base of my skull, pulling me closer than what I was comfortable with, daring to press its face against my own, planting a kiss upon my lips.

I shuddered in relief as it slowly withdrew, leaving me once again separated away from it by a short distance. I still couldn’t make out a single feature on its form despite such closeness and yet the memory of its lips on mine lingered with the taste of its ashen breath.

I couldn’t help but feel violated after, yet some familiarity brewed, prompting a disturbing revelation to consider; has this thing done something similar to me before—perhaps when I was fast asleep?

My mind stirred at the thought either way, leaving behind a chill of unrelenting unease that rolled down my spine.

The monster continued to back away until it stood a comfortable distance away from me, leaving me feeling somehow confused. It was a strange situation no matter how I looked at it; it didn’t seem to want to harm nor consume me, rather only offering its touch and comfort.

It was almost as if it sought companionship from me instead.

I watched warily as it drifted just a little closer once more, as if struggling with its own inability to stay away.

“Please,” it pleaded, its tone bordering on desperate, “I only wish for you to sleep well.”

Perhaps it was the lingering aftermath of the kiss that was clouding my judgement, or maybe it was the lack of sleep after a long day, but something within me urged for me to finally surrender to its will, to let my guard down at long last.

Even if it didn’t feel like it was my own decision, at the time.

Swayed by a force unseen, relaxing my senses like some type of sedative.

So against my better judgement, I reluctantly gave in with a reassuring nod, allowing for it to move closer again all the while I did the same.

It wasn’t that I was suddenly unafraid of the monster that was on my bed, rather that I wanted for the peaceful nights to continue.

They were all I had left going for me in this otherwise unforgiving world, my only remaining comfort at the end of a long day.

I proceeded to lay back down on the bed, turning my body off to the side as usual, feeling its presence press against me once more. Its form seemed to envelop me; the shadows that spilled from its core encasing me in a suffocating shroud that pulled me into the darkness along with it. I felt as my own body gradually stiffened, slowly losing the ability to move a single inch at all, yet oddly enough, I didn’t feel a single hint of dread at all anymore.

All I felt was its comfort and warmth instead.

My eyelids drooped heavily as I finally surrendered to my own exhaustion, feeling them weld shut.

I then felt as the monster tightened its grip around me, pulling me even deeper into its personal space. Its breath felt fiery against my flesh as it dug its face into the crook of my neck, displaying an almost protective and maybe even wanting embrace.

As I drifted off into sleep and as its hold continued to tighten, it whispered something into my ear just as I was about to truly go under.

With a body that could have been sculpted from fire alone, its words felt somehow chilling and devoid of any remaining warmth. Its voice was no longer laced with a friendly tone, instead spiked with something much more sinister in its place.

“I’m never letting you go.”

And in that moment, everything changed.

My life was never the same again.

follow up story>>>

[vampiricgf]

☆ WOE TO THE LAMB THAT DISPUTES THE WOLF

ᝰ A silly bet of who can outrun whom in the pitch dark woods, just remember to the victor go the spoils (repost from old account)

f!reader, predator/prey, dry humping, blood drinking, fear play, outdoor sex

You knew it had been cocky the moment the words left your mouth, floating through the air like motes of dust in the wind but your pride would never allow you to snatch them back, keep them held tight against your chest in denial.

There was no room for anything to matter but the pounding of your feet against the dirt. Not the sharp sting of branches catching at your arms, pulling light tears in the flesh, nor the growing kaleidoscope of bruises on your legs from tripping over yourself and various roots as you tore through the small wood surrounding Rivington.

Adrenaline, all encompassing like a wave bettering you against rocks, meant you paid little attention to these crucial slip ups.

The wolf at your back was drawing ever closer.

Despite being soundless in shadow the mere suggestion of his presence was unrelenting, never allowing even a moment of stillness. You had used an elixir of elven elegance just attempting to stay ahead but you could feel your stamina depleting from running at a consistently breakneck pace ever since.

Yet you pushed on, knowing you had to be close to the agreed upon finish line.

It had been all manner of foolishness to make a bet with a vampire on who could outhunt whom under the cover of night. Seeing the sly grin paint his face should have told you the victor would be predetermined the moment you both set your sights on each other. But alas your curse to bear was believing even for a second that diligent training could trump supernatural ability.

A hunter was only as good as their weapon, and only as reliable as their senses.

Right now you have neither in any abundance.

He’d even agreed to give you a head start, which had only inflamed your ego at the beginning but now you were grateful for the pity. It had been generous, given the fact that you’re outclassed in terms of sheer speed and accuracy.

All the advantages you believed you had burned away, crumbling like the ashes of ignited paper, when you'd been forced to deviate from the path you’d set in your mind. It was artful, the way he directed you by making you believe he was about to lunge out at you from the dense pockets of foliage, baited you with sounds that disgusted his location, forced your mind to play nasty little tricks on you, and you played the dutiful mouse being led through the maze.

Fear wasn’t anything foreign to you, and while you knew rationally that this was simply sick fun, the primal part of your brain failed to grasp the message. And he used that to his full advantage.

A chorus of victorious laughter broke your fragile concentration, seeming to come from your left flank and the world went sideways in a fraction of a second.

Even though he'd held back it did little to mitigate the force of impact, nor the face full of dirt you got as he pinned one arm behind your back with his breath fanning the back of your neck. It sent shivers like shockwaves down your spine as his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.

“Look what I caught-”

You flinched involuntarily but the automatic response didn't mask how your thigh muscles squeezed, something he felt without a doubt as he straddled you.

His smug aura emanated enough that you didn't need to see him to know he was grinning, could feel the way his fingers twitched like live wires as he held you fast.

“You win,” you gasp out, wriggling in his hold but meeting light resistance.

You still upon feeling his nose nuzzle downward against your neck, the tiniest whimper escaping your lips as his tongue swipes across your sweat damp skin. The groan he lets out at the taste is enough to nearly make you cum on the spot.

"And what do I get for my victory?”

Your lungs seize in your chest, a burning bloom of embarrassment and desire that grasp hold of your tongue in a vice grip.

He gives you just enough slack and room to turn over on your back before grabbing your hands, lacing your fingers together in a choking clasp. “To the victor go the spoils, isn't that right?”

It's like the world is suddenly cast immobile in rich, mellow amber; a perfectly frozen diagram of a beast of myth right before its jaws open wide enough to swallow the world.

The way his pupils dilate until only a thin ring of crimson is present expands in your vision until it's all you can see, all that is present coupled with the brutal hammering of your pulse that you know is audible to him.

The drag of his tongue against his teeth plays out before you in a slow crawl, his movements like seeping honey and as your adrenaline reaches its crescendo his lips press against yours.

Cold, frenzied, sloppy.

It's a kiss made of teeth, tongues, and spit as his hips grind against you and your fingers claw at the hem of his shirt. You can't help but whine into his mouth, and every noise is swallowed down like fine vintage as he pushes icy hands beneath your shirt, shamelessly groping the planes of your flesh, kneading at your breasts. It isn't long before he's nearly panting over you, pressing his erection against your clothed cunt so firmly it robs you of breath yet again.

Under the ever watchful gaze of the trees you're both stripped of shirts, his lips mapping the contours of your throat as if he hasn't traveled the road a thousand times, as if he couldn't find your veins blinded.

You are the feast table he needs no guidance towards.

In the throes of delirium you almost don't feel the initial pinpricks of his fangs until the pain blossoms as they're driven further through layers of skin, the wounds widening to accommodate and relinquish a greater flow of the red gold that floods his mouth and drowns his tongue.

When his lips close around the wound to suck your hips buck up against him, fingers sinking into the hardness of his shoulder blades as you two rut in the dirt: a mass of sweat, blood, and arousal so primitive it only heightens the obscenity.

His own hands hold you steady as he basks in every touch from you and every movement of your hips, nearly garbled whimpers against your neck and you can tell just the friction alone has him teetering on the edge.

Through the euphoric haze a wicked thought takes root in your mind as your hand slides down between your bodies, caressing him through his trousers and coaxing him to a premature end.

You feel his fingers tightening in your hair, a subtle plea that you're quick to answer, the motion of your hand becoming urgent as he grinds against your palm and moans shamelessly into the now numb patch of flesh at the side of your throat.

When you feel the little quakes and shivers racking his body, the warmth spreading against the fabric, and the hushed garble of your name you know it's not he who has won.

In a kiss drenched in the second hand taste of your own blood you can't help the self satisfied grin that overtakes your lips.

In the smattering of moonlight shot through gaps in the branches you relish in your small victory, already eager to challenge him again.

[cyberpxnk]

compromise | j. yh & p. sh

♡ pairing: seonghwa x f!reader x yunho features yunho x seonghwa and minor yungi x reader ♡ chapters: 1 out of 1 ♡ word count: 11k ♡ rating: mature/18+ (minors dni) ♡ genre: university au, soccer!ateez, smut, established relationship, minor angst, polyamory ♡ warnings/tags: infidelity/cheating, mentions of alcohol and marijuana use, yunho has a big dick, switch!seonghwa, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, pet names (babe, baby, princess), degradation (use of nasty, whore, disgusting), oral (female giving), oral (male giving), choking, crying, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, all the usual goodies

♡ synopsis: your relationship with seonghwa is crumbling before your very eyes. in a moment of weakness, yunho has you succumbing to your desires but you end up getting more than you bargained for.

♡ author’s note:  howdy everyone !! i present to u ... compromise... >:3 likes, comments or reblogs are all greatly appreciated! if u enjoyed this lil tidbit, then dont be shy and drop a request!! or just giv me some good ole luv in the ask box... ♡

Winter has been cold; the winds unrelenting, the showers heavy, but most notably it was the loneliest of seasons. Months filled with ghostly kisses and slivers of physical intimacy that you could only reminisce of for so long. 

Following the arrival of the lively blooms, you prayed for more opportunity as your newfound faith rose with the sun. Spring marks new beginnings — or so they say.  The warm radiance of clear skies and gentle rains grace your heavy heart with hope. Things will be different this time around. Surely. 

You long for Seonghwa's company, but you could never get more than a moment alone with the man. Maybe it was your fault for dating such a busy body, but you don't think so. The first year was filled with lovely memories and unforgettable dates, yet all too fast everything slipped away before you had any control over it. 

Seonghwa is popular, smart, diligent, and responsible. With his final year at university nearing an end, his days were constantly in motion. Juggling a near perfect GPA whilst doing extracurriculars meant he had little to no time for leisurely activities. Leisurely activities included you, his girlfriend. 

As of last semester Seonghwa's schedule went accordingly: Mondays are spent volunteering at the local nursing home. Tuesday through Thursday he works at the dainty little flower shop by the library and Sundays are reserved for homework and studying. On top of it all, there was mandatory soccer practice every weekday evening. 

One would think that left him the weekend to spend with his lonesome lover, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. That's what you wish to believe, but you know better at this point.

"I'm sorry, babe. Mr. Sung had an emergency at the retirement home, I don't think I can make it tonight." 

"Shit! I have a test on Monday, I have to study... I'm so sorry, love. I'll make it up to you!"

"An important client needs me to stay and arrange twenty bouquets for her. I'm really sorry, baby..." 

His apologies came far too frequent, and you had grown tired of his antics. You understand his priorities, but it was clear you were not at the top of the list. You're not sure if you were even on the list at all. 

Despite his negligence, you still continue to try your best for him in the belief he'll slowly begin to reciprocate attention to you as he used to. No matter how demoralized, you still wished to maintain an image as his perfect girlfriend. Routinely you bring him coffee every morning, pack his lunch, attend his practices and games, yadda yadda… All the good stuff.

All of this is done with uncertain optimism though your insecurities are heavily laced in between each action. All you could really do is stay hopeful at this point. 

Come the first home soccer game of Spring, your ass is presently glued to the metal bleachers as you're seated before the field. The players are hustling along the range, gunning for dominance over the ball. Your best friend Mingi sits beside you, the two of you sharing a large throw that's spread across from shoulder to shoulder. 

Even with the rays of sunlight flickering between wisps of sullen clouds, the air still brings a chill with it. Blankets were a necessity at games like these. Huddling with the larger male proves to bring much needed warmth as you're cozying up to each other between idle chatter. 

Mingi is a defender for KQ University's soccer team, but due to an unforeseen injury he has been forced to the bench until further notice. Thankfully, you have each other for company during his recovery. 

Focusing between your small talk and watching your boyfriend, you're caught off guard by your companion's next words and nearly double take at him. 

"You and Hwa still having troubles?" 

You let out a quiet murmur, akin to denial and watch as the ball is passed to Seonghwa. 

"Uh..." 

The blonde maneuvers skillfully along the field before rounding his leg back and swinging precisely, shooting straight into the opposing team's goal. 

Immediately everyone erupts into cheers and you can't help but to join them, not willing yourself to verbalize your answer at the other man's question. A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth. That's your Seonghwa: striker extraordinaire! Boyfriend? Not as extraordinary. 

"You don't have to beat around the bush. I can see it all over your face. You're like an open book," Mingi points out bluntly as he speaks over the roaring crowd.

If you were such an open book then why couldn't Seonghwa pick up on how distressed you were? 

"Just admit it, you guys haven't been on a date in weeks and god knows how long it’s been since you’ve been laid." Although his words sting, you know what he says is true. You visibly wince and give a sharp nudge to his ribs, earning a pained whine from his end. 

"Shut up, man! There's only so much I can do with a guy that busy." 

Folding your arms over your chest, a frustrated sigh comes from you. Mingi has since begun to belt out suggestions, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he does so.

"Just break up?" 

As if it were that easy.

"I don't know about that one..." 

You're only half listening at this point, your eyes scanning the expanse of the field until they fall upon another player who is currently running up to Seonghwa and high-fiving him. 

The man in question is tall, even taller than the giant beside you. He’s also incredibly handsome. He didn't fit the status of conventionally attractive, yet his presence isn’t one you can dismiss easily. With a towering frame and broad shoulders, it’s hard for you not to notice.

And his uniform? God. His sweat laden jersey sticks to the outline of his chiseled chest, fabric clinging and accentuating his lean form. Even worse, the shorts he wore did nothing to hide his set of long, muscular legs. You can feel yourself warming up considerably as you ogle him shamelessly from head to toe.

After their high-five he’s bouncing along the grass with a newfound spurt of energy and returning to his spot by the goal. When the ball is back in play, he takes on a defensive position, knees bent forward as his gloved hands are held out before him. Can't forget the big hands and nice ass too. 

Your eyes flicker to his backside. Unable to help yourself, your stare is glued to him as you swallow thickly once he bends over, trying to ignore the full display of his butt before you. God, what were you doing? 

"Ok, I know you're lonely and desperate but Yunho is not someone you should be thirsting over." Mingi's deep rumble of warning breaks you from your stupor. You tear your eyes from the goalie and meet your friend's knowing expression, cheeks aflame in embarrassment from having been caught. 

"It doesn't hurt to look..." A guilty whisper comes from you as you return your focus to the goalkeeper, only to have your eyes widening in surprise when you're met by his own heated gaze. 

Despite the distance from the stands, you can see a wicked and knowing smirk forming on his lips. As if he can read your thoughts, he readies himself in position once more but not before shooting a sultry look in your direction. Oh. 

"That's more than just looking, babe. As his best friend and your best friend, trust me when I tell you it's not a good idea to get involved." Your companion can't help but to chastise you, shaking his head. Mingi is probably right though. He usually is.

Jeong Yunho is not someone you should be concerned with, yet there is an allusive and alluring pull to him. Everyone on the team is popular in their own right, but Yunho often has people flocking to him left and right. Amongst the boys, he and Seonghwa were probably the two most sought after men on campus. 

The goalie was known for his exuberance and friendliness, attracting attention from all types of people. In truth, it was hard for many to resist his charms. Not you though. You’d like to think you have a decent reign on your self control especially considering the fact you're not single. 

Even if that wasn’t the truth, the issue with Yunho is that he's a known heartbreaker. It was apparent that he didn't date or hook up often, despite his popularity. Even so, that only seemed to heighten his desirability. And regardless of that fact, word around campus was that he was infamous for having a huge dick.

The rumors stemmed from someone who was supposedly lucky enough to sleep with him, though nobody can confirm or deny. Whether true or false, many still try to gun for his attention in hopes of finding out.

Honestly, you shouldn’t even be interested in entertaining the idea. You barely even know the guy, only having chatted with him during practices and at the occasional party here and there. Not to mention you have your lovely, smart, gorgeous, busy… busy… boyfriend. Damn it, you're a horrible person. 

“Fuck!” With both hands slapping your cheeks, you groan out in frustration while sinking into your palms. 

Mingi raises his eyebrows and peers at you with a questioning look. 

“What?” 

“Dude, why am I thinking about Jeong Yunho's supposedly big dick?!” It's his turn to groan while he's rolling his eyes. 

As if things couldn't get any worse, you suddenly feel a pair of eyes on you again. The heavy stare that bores into you is enough of a tell that you don't dare to look forward, the goalie's shit eating grin taunting you from your peripherals. 

"Seriously? Could you have said that any louder? He's literally staring at you!" 

"Shut up, shut up! I know, dude!" 

"Please just... I don't know. Please, don't." 

After that you both sit in silence for the remainder of the game, left to linger amongst your own regretful thoughts. 

It's not long before the bleachers begin to shake as the crowd excitedly stomps and hollers. A roar of cheering erupts from the stands once the final score reflects 4-1, the timer paused on zero. 

In the rush of commotion you and Mingi forget the previous tension and untangle from the blanket, both of you stumbling slightly down the steps. You're quick to steal the throw, pulling it around yourself as you leave your seats, joining the team on the field. 

"Hey! Get back here!" 

Mingi shouts in complaint but trails after you nonetheless, catching up to you slowly as he rubs his arms and shivers.

You're both merging in the group of people crowding the team as everyone lets out celebratory cheers, animatedly chatting amongst each other. Mingi kisses your cheek and dips from you to join his fellow players. 

You're left to battle the masses, squeezing and weaving between bodies as you try to make your way to Seonghwa quickly. When you reach him, he's surrounded by some of his peers, all of them laughing while exchanging hugs and pats on the back. 

When he finally turns and sees you, his eyes light up. He's quick to wiggle away from everyone and he's pulling you into a bone crushing hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you. 

The action surprises you but it's not unwelcome as you laugh and clutch onto him tightly, a squeal coming from you.

"Hwa!"

"Did you see me, baby? I can't believe we won!" You smile endearingly, though you can't help but chuckle at his comment. Of course they won. After all, they were one of the top soccer teams in the province.

He plants a single big wet kiss on your lips before he's setting you down, arms still wrapped around you. An adoring look crosses your face as he beams proudly. The familiarity of his hug was something you missed dearly, and you don’t even mind that he’s covered in dirt and grass stains. 

Perhaps corny on your end, but you didn’t want your hug with him to end. You don't remember the last time he held you so joyfully. You knew it was probably from the high of winning the game, but you can pretend just for a little while longer that it was because he missed you. 

"You did amazing, Hwa!" The stars in his eyes expand, twinkling with pride as you compliment him, his smile stretching impossible wide. Your heart stutters at the sight, making you want to melt entirely within his arms. 

You want to shower him with more praise but all too suddenly, he's being pulled away from you. You recognize his reluctance as he apologetically tips his head and mouths 'sorry' when the crowd pulls him away, tossing him up in their arms as they're chanting his name. 

"Party at Wooyoung's!"

"Drinks on Seonghwa!" 

They march further and further away from you, filing into the locker rooms as you watch from afar, standing pathetically by yourself on the field. The crowd has since dissipated and you're all too aware that you're alone now. 

The forgotten blanket is still draped around you, and you clutch it tighter around your frame as the breeze sends a shiver down your spine. 

"You should dump him, you know." 

You jump in shock and spin on your heel, head whipping in the direction of the new voice. You're met with the very same goalie you had been checking out earlier, a sense of guilt creeping over your back. How long was he standing behind you? 

"What?" You manage to say back to him, unsure of how to approach his suggestion. 

"I said you should dump him." 

Yunho stands tall and defiantly before you, arms folded over his chest as he cocks an eyebrow in amusement. You give him a once over before you frown, trying to look anywhere but at him. 

"You don't know anything." 

He doesn't miss your lingering look and the corner of his lips quirk up knowingly as he steps toward you. 

You stumble back, heart catching in your throat when you look up to meet his stare, his eyes swimming dangerously with an unknown emotion.

"I know enough, princess. A good girl like yourself wouldn't be eye fucking me if your boyfriend was taking care of you well enough," he pauses and leans past you, whispering hotly against the shell of your ear, " — or if he was fucking you properly." 

A tremble of desire ripples down your spine but you move back, flabbergasted by his statement. You're no sooner tripping over your own feet and you topple backwards, landing on your ass.

Yunho barks out in laughter, not bothering to offer you any help. The man is hunched over now, chuckling loudly as he stares at your frustrated form below him. He clutches his stomach and figuratively wipes his eye as if he'd just witnessed the funniest thing of his life.

"Fuck you," you spit back to him. 

“Just say when and I’m all yours.” 

You’re shocked by his admission, not daring to meet his eyes as your hand begins swiping the blades of grass under you. Though you're annoyed, you can't ignore the bubble of arousal that has spread through your belly. Yunho wants to fuck you. You rewind his words over and over again in your head, only snapping into focus when you hear Seonghwa’s voice calling out to you from a distance.

"Babe?" From several meters away, you see your boyfriend approaching closer in a light jog. He has since changed out of his uniform, and is now sporting a long sleeve with some form fitting jeans. 

"Are you ok? I didn't know you were friends with Yunho!" Seonghwa reaches you both shortly, oblivious to the situation before him, smiling from ear to ear as he begins to help you up. 

"I’m ok. I just tripped, that's all..." You offer an uncertain smile, standing up and wiping the debris from your pants. 

"Hey, man! I was just asking her if she's coming to the party." Yunho throws his arm over Seonghwa, giving him a side hug before he's veering off toward the locker rooms.

"Gonna go shower. See ya both there!"

You're left with Seonghwa as the goalie's form disappears into the building. You shouldn't be upset now that you have some alone time with your boyfriend, but the encounter leaves you unsettled and questioning yourself. 

You swallow nervously and lace your fingers with the man before you, gently tugging him along toward the parking lot.

"Let's go get ready, yeah?" He nods his head and lets you lead the way, happily swinging your hands.

"I missed you, babe. I can't wait for the party." 

The guilt continues to fester at the back of your mind but you force it away, mustering up a half hearted smile. 

"I missed you too."

The Jung family was known for being wealthy, so securing their beloved son a lavish 3 story building within your college town was no hard feat. Given Wooyoung's spacious living situation he also housed some of his fellow players. One being his closest buddy, Choi San, two being your best friend, Song Mingi and the third roomie was none other than the infamous goalie himself. 

To say you're familiar with the house is an understatement, having stayed over on many occasions whether it be for a soccer function, party or to hang out with Mingi. The building itself is huge, reminiscent of someone's dream home but it was a little closer to a frat house than anything given the current occupants. 

By the time you reach Wooyoung's, the sun is already setting beneath the skyline. In typical party fashion, there are people pouring in and out of the door and you see a few stragglers who are already wasted, strewn about the front yard. 

The music is at full blast, some unfamiliar hip hop beats pumping from the speakers. The noise grows louder as you both near the entrance, the volume of chatter mixing in with the tempo of the current song. 

When you and Seonghwa step through the bustling entryway of the Jung manor, a chorus of drunken cheers are heard amidst the packs of various friend groups. 

"Yo! There's the man of the hour!" Wooyoung is ever the host as he’s quick to greet you two, shoving a can of beer into Seonghwa's hand while he slings an arm around his shoulder.

"M'lady," he playfully curtsies to you, despite the awkward entanglement of he and Seonghwa's limbs, "help yourself to some drinks. The boys want to take some celebratory shots to get things rolling!"

"Thanks, Woo!" You grin back at him and follow along as you're led toward the kitchen. Bottles of hard liquor amass the counter along with littered and forgotten red solo cups, some full and others empty.

The crowd is more dense in this room, all the soccer players packed around the island as they're downing shot after shot. Seonghwa is quick to join them, abandoning your company when he’s encouraged by their enthusiastic hooting. 

The sight brings a smile to your face but your expression morphs into something unpleasant when he hooks his elbow with Yunho, both of them throwing down their beverages in unison. 

You don't miss how Yunho's adam's apple bobs as he tips his glass back or how a dribble of tequila trails down his chin from his lips. When his eyes meet yours, they're narrowed playfully. There's a knowing glint behind his gaze that has you promptly turning on your heel. 

With your back to the crowd, you're squeezing past the lot as you direct yourself elsewhere. You spare Mingi a pat in passing and maneuver toward the opposite side of the kitchen where you reach for a solo cup, opting to fill it from the massive dispenser of jungle juice in the corner. You make a mental note to come back for shots later once it's less crowded.

As you're filling your drink a hand lands on your shoulder, giving you a soft squeeze that makes you jolt in surprise. The liquid sloshes in your cup, narrowly missing your clothes. You turn to the perpetrator and immediately breathe a sigh of relief when you recognize the voice.

"Careful with that. It'll fuck you up good." 

"Hongjoong! You scared the hell out of me!" 

The man in question laughs and bumps his shoulder to yours. He's nursing his own drink which he holds up to you, nodding his head. Hongjoong and you go way back, both having an unspoken mutual respect for each other.

You've known him as long as you've known Seonghwa, but the both of them have been friends for many years prior so you have nothing on that. Even though he's not a part of the main roster, Hongjoong is the manager for the team, which makes him just as important. 

The two of you met through Mingi and you both bonded instantly, enjoying each other's presence. You aren't necessarily close, but you're far from anything unfriendly. You’re also dating his best bud, so it was hard to avoid him if things were any different. 

"Cheers!" 

"Bottoms up, Joong." 

You clink your plastic cup to his and you're both gulping down the booze in one go, a grimace overtaking your features as the concoction of alcohol and juice washes over you. Whatever that was, it was nasty. 

“Dude, who made this? Isn’t jungle juice supposed to NOT taste like alcohol?”

“Probably some dumb ass.”

And that's how the rest of the night proceeds. In between failing to get Seonghwa's attention and socializing with various people (mostly Hongjoong), you're left to your own vices for nearly an hour. Like the others though, Hongjoong soon finds better company amongst his peers. 

It hasn’t been long since your arrival yet you're feeling the effects of the alcohol already. Seonghwa has since been whisked away by his other friends, easily forgetting you in the midst of celebrations. It's nothing new, but the substance does help dull the pain. 

To say you’re upset is an understatement. Does Seonghwa just not care? You even did up your makeup a little cuter today. Forgoing your usual attire, you wear a black strappy and skimpy little number tonight. You weren't one to usually show off your assets but it didn't matter since your efforts went unnoticed, leaving you high and dry. 

Submitting defeat, you make up your mind and decide you would have fun regardless of your relationship. Fuck Seonghwa. You’re at a party, so you might as follow its intended purpose. 

You've already made your rounds within the house several times, chatting amongst your friends only briefly before you wind back up in the kitchen. Although you're not quite drunk yet, you're definitely getting there as you begin to wobble over to the counter of spirits.

You're finishing your second helping of jungle juice once you've arrived at the island. A random liquor bottle is plucked from the selection and with the emptied solo cup in hand, you're quick to pour some expensive looking vodka, filling it halfway before you knock it back hastily. No chaser necessary. The sting is immediate, burning down your throat as you try not to gag down the rest.

Drinking the substance was akin to what you imagine rubbing alcohol tastes like. Disgusting, but it does the job. The cup is tossed aside and you wipe your mouth with your hand before you trudge toward the open doors of the backyard, the last area you've yet to explore for the night. 

The moon now rises within the darkened skies, illuminating the expanse of the yard. From here, the music is a bit more muted and the chatter is quieter. Centered in the middle of the space was a pool, where some people were lounging about. Not a good spot for a tipsy girl like yourself. 

Further to the side, the pungent smell of marijuana wafts from the corner where a large fire pit roars alive. Some familiar faces surround the area and from afar you can see they’re passing around a joint. You're quick to abandon your post by the doors, stumbling toward the lull of the flames. 

"Miiiingi," you call out as you approach closer, slinging your arms around the said man.

Mingi turns slightly at the mention of his name and catches you just in time as you throw yourself into him, a loopy smile on your lips. 

"Damn… You look,” he whistles lowly, “how many drinks have you had?" 

"How do I look? And like... only a few!" 

You drop your hold from him and step away to do a little drunk twirl, stumbling slightly. He raises his eyebrows in amusement but still claps his hands nonetheless.

"You look good enough to eat, babe. And I hope ‘a few’ doesn’t include the pitcher of that god awful jungle juice. I think Wooyoung threw anything and everything in there." 

"Maaaaybe two of those and a shot!" A shot being that half cup of vodka earlier, which was basically two shots if you think about it. Mingi didn’t need to know that though.

He just shrugs his shoulders and smiles lightly. He wasn't one to stop you if you wanted to let loose. You grin and squeeze his hand once, thankful he wasn’t too concerned over your lack of sobriety. As you’re stepping around him and circling the fire pit, you greet the others surrounding you, not wishing to be rude.

To Mingi's left, your friends Yeosang, San and Jongho are in a deep debate as the lingering smoke from the weed and burning wood mixes within the air. They all wave at you and quickly return to their conversation. You think you hear something along the lines of whether or not mint chocolate chip is the superior ice cream flavor, but you don't really know. 

To the opposite side of Mingi, Yunho nods his head to you as he reclines in a woven lawn chair with his legs spread apart. Even in your current state you don’t miss the way his eyes are greedily raking over your exposed form, taking in every inch of skin you’re showing. His actions have you shifting nervously on the balls of your feet and you don’t know how to approach him. 

Regardless of the fact that you are ready or not, you have to face him now. Against your better judgment, you think you should enjoy his attention while you can and at this point, you were getting too drunk to care.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol in your system or your disarray of emotions, but you can hardly ignore how the denim of his jeans hug his muscular thighs or how his white t-shirt rides up a little when he leans back, showing you just a sliver of his skin.

You’re both readily checking each other out and it makes you feel hot with shame. His eyes are hazy from the effects of the cannabis and he's taking a long drag before holding it up in your direction. 

"Hey, princess. You want a hit?" A billow of smoke rolls over his lips as he speaks, voice low and gravelly from the dryness in his throat. You swear you’ve never seen anything sexier than the sight of him before you. 

"Don't call me that," you murmur as you snatch the joint from his hand and inhale from it, sucking in a bit too sharply. The smoke that fills your lungs all too soon comes out in sputters and it has you coughing out several times. 

The sound of Yunho's hearty and familiar laughter joined with Mingi's fills your ears, making your face burn with embarrassment. If you could dig a hole right now and hide in it, you would. You roll your eyes and pass the end of the blunt to Mingi while trying to recompose yourself. 

"What brings you out here, pretty girl?" Yunho questions you, but you both know why. Mingi knows too, yet he chooses to ignore the unspoken tension between you two as he's too preoccupied finishing off the last of the joint.

"You know, the usual," you slur a bit as you speak, noting how the alcohol seems to pump more heavily through your veins, " — Hwa is too busy to pay attention to me so I may as well get as crossed as I can tonight." 

"I told you that you should just break up with him." Mingi crushes the remainder of the joint under his shoe as he speaks, eyeing you warily. 

"Yeah! You're clearly not having fun worrying about him!" Jongho suddenly butts into the conversation, his statement being followed by several nods and a chorus of verbal agreements from the rest of the boys.

"I wasn't aware that my relationship was everyone and their mother's business." You huff in response.

“Just because Hwa is our friend doesn’t mean we don’t know he’s a shitty boyfriend to you,” Yeosang pitches in. 

“He’s not a bad guy. I just don’t know if he deserves that… And you guys make it sound like dumping him is the easiest thing in the world.” 

You groan loudly at their insistent suggestions. All you've heard tonight is people telling you to break it off with him, but he’s still the man you fell in love with. You wish things weren’t so complicated. 

“Him being a good guy is different from him being a good boyfriend. If you’re not happy, you shouldn’t stay with him,” San adds with a firm nod.

"Well whatever you do, they’re still right,” you're about to complain again but Yunho is quick to grab your hand, “Like Jongho said, you're not having fun, so let's go dance."

He’s standing up abruptly as he tugs on your hand, leading you back inside and toward the lively mass of dancing bodies within the house. The boys cheer in unison and follow suit, filing into the packed living room.

Within the dim space the lights are set down low and in the area where the speakers occupy there’s a set of disco lights atop, flickering from corner to corner, the gradient of multiple hues bobbing every which way.  

Your group is weaving through the crowd of bodies until you’re all within the center of the dancing where you’re being sandwiched between both Mingi and Yunho. The room is unbearably hot, yet you’re too intoxicated to care as you lose yourself to the sultry song that plays through the house. 

In front of you Mingi is clutching onto your shoulders as he easily moves himself to the beat of the music, swaying from side to side. From behind Yunho is holding your waist and you feel him bumping against your backside as he dances. You almost feel overwhelmed between the two men, but your arms loop around Mingi’s torso and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to rock against their bodies. 

The boys brought you inside to have fun and you don’t want to waste the rest of the night worrying about your relationship. You’re between two ridiculously handsome men, so you might as well indulge a little. 

Yunho's breath is hot against your neck as you drop your head back on his shoulder, eyes fluttering open to meet his half lidded stare. Beneath his stare is the look of something unidentifiable again, a dangerous and lustful glint. The movements never stop even as his grip tightens around you, his large hands over your hips. 

"You look so fucking sexy tonight," Yunho's whisper is almost lost to the volume of the music but you hear him clearly as he mutters into your ear. You bite your lip at his compliment and feel your body heating up. 

"Want to rip this tiny dress off your body." He continues his onslaught of suggestive words, not faltering even as you press yourself instinctively to his crotch. 

You're not surprised that he's hard against your ass but you are shocked by the sheer feeling of his size outlined beneath the fabric of his denim. Even with the jeans covering him, you can tell that the rumors are definitely true. 

The thought of his dick alone has something stirring within your loins and you can't help but to grind yourself harder against his growing erection as a whine threatens to bubble up from your throat. 

"You like that, princess?" His hold slides down from your waist and he toys with the hem of your dress, fingers dancing along the material teasingly. 

His blatant flirting has you feeling nervous but you can't deny how turned on you are at the way he touches and gropes at you within the public eye. 

Mingi is either too high to care or completely unaware of the situation as his body bumps against yours. His elbows slack on your shoulders but you can tell he's enjoying himself from the dopey grin he has as he's watching the scene unfold before him. So much for heeding his warning about Yunho. He didn't even seem to care anymore. 

If not for your friend dancing alongside you, the sight of you rubbing yourself against Yunho would definitely look suspicious. At this point, you're not sure if being caught in the act bothers you though. You're much too faded and you're reveling in the feeling of both their hands all over you. Any guilt that still threatens to ruin your night is now easily disregarded.

The actions of your bodies gyrating against each other has made your dress ride up, revealing more of your already exposed thighs. With the way your lacy black underwear is just barely beginning to peek out beneath your skimpy dress, it takes Yunho everything in his willpower not to spread your legs right there and fuck you with his fingers. 

You don't notice your indecency, but Yunho certainly does. Luckily he and Mingi are there to block the view from any prying eyes. He wouldn't want to share such a sinful sight with anyone else anyway. 

"Do you want to take this upstairs?" 

You should say no, but you find yourself nodding instead and allowing him to pull you backwards. 

Mingi doesn’t seem to mind the absence of your body and easily bids you both farewell as he drunkenly looks for a new dance partner once you're both stumbling through the mass of moving bodies. 

With his larger hand clasped over yours, Yunho is leading you through the string of scattered party goers until you're both practically tripping up the stairs. 

You know you should acknowledge the feeling of shame that looms over you, but there's a thrum of excitement filling your senses. The thrill of entertaining such a heinous act drives you further into some sick type of high. 

As you and Yunho are both hurrying to his room, you fail to see your boyfriend hovering close by the bottom of the stairwell. The drink he has is downed in one go before he's crushing the cup in his hand and tossing it over his shoulder. There is a surge of alcohol and rage pumping through his blood as he begins to ascend the steps after you.

When you reach Yunho’s room, he leads you inside and kicks the door shut behind him. Although the room is pitch black it doesn’t stop how he clutches onto your waist and pushes you into the door as he begins to kiss you heavily.

There is no hesitance to claim your lips while his large hands are eager to explore the expanse of your scantily clad body. His touch is everywhere at once and you're breathless as he attacks your lips with fervor, drinking in your kisses whilst groaning breathlessly into your mouth. 

It shouldn't feel so good to have him touching you, but each brush of his fingers feels electrifying on your skin, driving you more mad with each passing second. 

All too soon he's pulling away from your mouth and backing up until you hear the click of him switching on the lamp nearby. A dull light floods the space, the interior of his room filling your vision. You’re momentarily distracted and briefly take a minute to examine the minute details of his living arrangements. 

By the corner rests a black recliner and a shelf lined with family photos and awards from the numerous sports he’s played. Miscellaneous equipment and video games are scattered about the room amongst his various clothes. Everything looked pretty standard for a college guy like himself.

When he sees you're preoccupied taking in the sight of your surroundings, he uses the chance to shed his clothes, leaving only his boxer briefs. Once done, he's quick to lay back on his mattress, which rests at the center of his room and he sits up against the pillows while motioning for you to come closer. 

You don't move at first, eyes zeroing in on the man who lays before you. Despite the lamp’s dull luminance you can still make out the toned muscles that sculpt his lean figure. Beneath his abs, a faint trial of his hair disappears beneath the band of his undergarments. The shape of his erection straining against the fabric of his underwear has you squirming in place. 

“Princess, my eyes up here.” Immediately your head snaps up to meet his smug look, grin tugging at his lips. Even with the short garb on your body, you feel suddenly overdressed when you ogle his bare form. 

He’s staring at you beneath his heavy lids, lust evident within his eyes. The effects of the marijuana still clouds his mind but he's never felt better. 

“Strip for me.” The command rings in your ears, a low timber in his voice as his hand creeps over his present bulge. He’s no sooner palming himself, stroking himself through his underwear. 

The sight has your mouth going dry, arousal encouraging your actions when you begin to sway your hips before him. You don't know if it's the intoxication or just the raw desire to fuck him that fuels your next actions. The sight of him spread out before you and stroking his cock certainly contributes to your newfound bravado. 

You’re clumsily dancing and shimmying the dress off, your body rolling as the straps slide off your shoulders and droop down to reveal your bare breasts. When the fabric drops past your waist and to the floor, you clumsily kick the article aside and move toward the edge of the bed.

The lacy black underwear that previously taunted Yunho is now on full display as you begin to make your way onto the bed, both knees sinking into the mattress as you crawl toward him on all fours. He’s groaning as he watches your tantalizing prowl, squeezing himself hard through his delicates. 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, your figure approaching closer until you hover before him, straddling his thighs. 

Your mouths reconnect when you settle over him, letting your clothed mound rest on his lap before you begin to drag yourself against his length. The friction between your loins draws another noise from him as he's eagerly returning your kiss, tongue and teeth clashing with hunger. 

His hands find purchase on your waist, sliding up your body and cupping your breasts as he begins to roll himself under you. As he carefully tweaks your nipples you whine into his mouth, each kiss growing more messy, your lips swollen as he devours you.

He doesn’t know if he can handle another second of being trapped beneath you as he rubs against you through the flimsy garments separating you. You feel so good and he's not even inside you yet. 

The kiss is broken when he sinks further into his pillows, arching forward impatiently in a struggle to remove his underwear. Not wanting to laugh at his attempts, you lift yourself from him and help slide the offending article down his legs. 

His erection springs free from its confines and your jaw goes slack when you finally take in the size of his cock. Seeing it under his boxers was one thing but this… The rumors definitely didn’t do him justice. Watching him twitch against his stomach with his precum pooling at the tip of his length makes you think you’ve never wanted to taste something as much as his dick. 

When you look up to Yunho, he has his ever present shit eating grin. He knows you’re impressed and he revels in the attention, enjoying how your expression morphs from shock to pure desire. 

Once you've recollected yourself he grasps the sides of your panties and tugs them impatiently. The position has you struggling to remove the lingerie but he opts to rip the fabric instead, tearing down the sides and tossing the remnants elsewhere as you’re left to gape at his hastiness.

“Those were my favori-” You struggle to verbalize your next words as a gasp escapes you when you suddenly feel his hand cupping your exposed sex. 

“I was going to ruin them one way or another,” he says with a roll of his eyes as his fingers delicately run along the arousal that has collected between your folds. He experimentally rubs his thumb against your clit, watching as your body trembles from his featherweight touch. 

“You’re already this wet for me? Naughty girl.” 

“Shut up,” you murmur as you slap his hand away and situate yourself back on his lap, letting him feel your wetness against the length of his erection. 

“Sorry, princess.” He throws his arms up in mock surrender but they're no sooner on your thighs as you both continue to hump against each other, the feeling of skin to skin unbearable as he bites back a moan.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” The tip of his cock brushes past your clit, easily sliding back and forth along your opening once you're rocking yourself faster atop him.

“You seem to like it,” he says with a knowing tone and he squeezes both your thighs, though he sounds just as breathless as he looks beneath you. His eyes are fluttering with each movement, chest rising as he tries to maintain his last ounce of self control. 

He's been patient, allowing you to grind yourself on him, but he wants nothing more than to grab your hips and impale you on his cock, stretching you out so good that you can't think. 

You're both gasping quietly against each other and it's only until you hear the door open that you're both scrambling for the sheets to cover yourselves.

“So, this is where you two went.” Seonghwa’s firm voice fills your ears, making your entire body freeze up as you come to a halt. 

You've never heard him more angry and you're nervous to face him but you find yourself slowly twisting your head over your shoulder as you're met with his enraged glare.

Yunho stiffens beneath you and opens his mouth to speak but the other man holds up his palm to signal his silence. Your boyfriend closes the door behind him, not uttering a word as he takes a seat on the recliner that's situated in the corner. 

The tension is thick but you can’t help the bewilderment showing on your expression as you watch him settle into the leather, spreading his legs wide while he dips his hand into his pants.

“Don’t stop on my account. Carry on.” There is a dangerous hint behind his tone and you can feel his anger radiating off him in waves but the thought of him watching as Yunho fucks you makes you even more turned on.

You’re unsure of what's going on anymore at this point, but even in your confusion you know you don't want to disobey Seonghwa. The guilt that you had been ignoring all night hits you tenfold, sitting present in your consciousness. Despite this, your arousal is obvious as your pussy grows messier, drooling on the cock beneath you. It's apparent to him as he twitches against your sex and he catches on quickly, though initially he seems just as shocked as you by Seonghwa’s admission. 

It doesn't take a second longer for Yunho to recognize the look behind Seonghwa’s eyes and he has a twisted smirk pulling at his lips in realization. Before you can protest, he suddenly takes ahold of your hips and lifts you with ease before he's sliding you down the entirety of his length. Your walls drag past his cock, swallowing him whole as he fills you to the hilt.

The noise of surprise that escapes you rings high when you feel him stretching you apart. He’s much bigger than Seonghwa and you don't think you've ever felt so full in your life. If you weren't already so wet, you knew the stretch would sting much more than it did. You're so clouded with pleasure that the pain is barely present. 

“You like watching your girl get fucked by someone else, Hwa?” He taunts your boyfriend, snide in his tone as he ruts himself up into you. You whine loudly. 

The man in question only responds with a grunt, his eyes trained on the view of your pussy swallowing his huge cock. Seonghwa squeezes himself harder and begins to pump into his hand, gritting his teeth. 

“You're both so fucking nasty. You love this, don’t you?” Even as Yunho sneers, he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. 

“Look how well she takes me, Hwa. You like seeing her little cunt stretched out by another man’s dick?” This time Seonghwa moans in response. His jeans have been kicked aside and he's left in his shirt, jerking himself in his palm as he watches you both through his hazy eyes.

With your head overlooking your shoulder, you still don't entirely know what's happening, but the sight of your boyfriend fucking his hand makes you overwhelmed with the need to press on. Knowing you're both getting off as he watches you get plowed has your stomach churning with some sick sense of pleasure.  

Suddenly you feel Yunho’s hand cupping your chin, forcing your eyes away from Seonghwa. As you both stare at each other, you’re readily bouncing yourself on his lap, sinking deeper onto his cock with your every movement. You’re greedy to have him inside you, enjoying how each thrust has him filling your pussy so well. 

There’s a sound of clattering from the other side of the room and you want to turn your head, but the hand gripping your chin is firm. Seeing his eyes flicker behind you makes your curiosity grow, but when you feel a hot breath against the back of your neck you now know that Seonghwa has joined you on the bed. 

His presence has the man beneath you waning his pace, his hips working in a slow and sensual grind. As he hovers behind you his nose runs along your nape where his lips latch down on your skin. His teeth drag against your shoulder and you're whining quietly when he bites down particularly hard.

“Did you miss me so bad that you had to cheat me on with my own teammate?” Seonghwa is speaking against your skin, but he doesn't stop nipping at you, sucking harshly until you begin to bruise beneath his lips. You don't know how to respond, your body trembling as he continues to press at you. 

“You think you can just fuck Yunho and get away with it?” Shaking your head, you let out a meek ‘no’ as his fingers tangle within your hair.

“Get up.” Seonghwa has never spoken to you with a tone like this before. It fills you with apprehension but your body is still thrumming with arousal and you're quick to follow his instructions, whimpering when you slide off of Yunho’s lap. 

Yunho wishes to pull you back onto him but he hesitates, deciding he wants to watch how the scene unfolds. Even then, his cock continues to throbs as he takes note of how an intensity is overtaking the normally sweet and kind Seonghwa. 

Your boyfriend leads you by your hair, ignoring you as you whimper out in a pained protest. You’re forced onto your hands and knees, your head hovering between the apex of his legs as he presses his hard cock against your mouth.

“You're going to let me use your mouth like the disgusting whore that you are, got it?” You feel yourself clenching at his words, nodding as your tongue darts out to taste the head to his dick. It's been so long since you've had him, you're desperate for his cock. He scoffs at your eagerness.

Seonghwa grasps his length, smearing his precum against your mouth as he uses his free hand to motion the other man forward. Yunho is no sooner scrambling toward you both, pupils blown wide with anticipation as he awaits further instruction. 

“Go ahead.” 

His words are all that Yunho needs to hear. Holding your hips once again he grabs you from behind and he begins to sheath his cock back within the slick warmth of your hole, relishing in how tightly your walls surround him. You both moan loudly. At the same time Seonghwa slides himself past your lips, the hand within your locks tightening their hold when he eases himself into your throat. 

Your eyes flit up to watch him as his lips are pulled back in a displeased scowl. You've never seen him so upset and it makes you remorseful knowing you're the cause of his distress but at the same time he’s never looked so sexy glaring down at you. 

He catches your stare but continues to frown even as his cock twitches in your mouth. His fingers fist at your tresses, guiding you further down his shaft until your nose is flush to his pelvic bone. 

You're breathing heavily through your nostrils as you continue to look at each other, your eyes watering with tears. He doesn't move, but instead allows Yunho to bury into you. The snap of his hips against your backside causes your body to jerk forward, forcing Seonghwa’s tip to hit the back of your throat. He’s groaning when you gag against him, the action clearly catching you in surprise. 

“Such a needy slut. Just one dick wasn't enough for you, huh?” You whine against him, drooling over his length as Yunho sets the tempo for how fast your head is bobbing along his cock. He’s pounding into you harder, enjoying the sight of you struggling to suck the other off while he's working open your tight pussy. 

“You should lighten up, Hwa,” he says between thrusts as he reaches out with one arm to grab the older man.

“Are you serious? What the hell does that mean?” Seonghwa’s fingers slacken as he peers over at the goalie, his dick pulsing in your mouth while he’s watching you get fucked.

You're thankful for the moment of reprise but your eyes go wide as you watch Yunho hover above you, grabbing Seonghwa by his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. 

You gurgle on Seonghwa’s cock at the sight, your pussy clenching down tightly as the two begin to make out before you. To say your boyfriend is shocked is an understatement, but he’s quick to indulge in the kiss, clearly as aroused as you are.

Yunho has some type of unexplainable charm to him. Whatever he's doing, it clearly affects Seonghwa just as much as it does you. 

Their mouths are locked together, wet kisses amidst their tongues intertwining as you feel Yunho begin to rock his hips again. The movement has all three of you moaning and encourages you to begin sucking harder on the cock inside your mouth. 

There is saliva coating your lips as you're bobbing your head down the length of Seonghwa’s erection, more drool dripping down your chin while you're sloppily getting your face fucked. 

When Yunho breaks the kiss there is a line of spit stretching between them as they're both panting heavily, trying to regain their breaths. The taller of the two ushers the hand away from your locks, taking a hold of your hair before he’s tugging your head back as he withdraws slowly, pulling himself completely out of you. 

Seonghwa’s dick pops out from your mouth when you’re yanked back and he’s left staring at your desperate form below him, your body wiggling with need at the loss of Yunho. 

“Take this as a lesson, Hwa. You’re in a win-win situation, no?” Even as Yunho says this, the other’s expression twists between a flurry of emotions. The confusion is written all over his face, but something seems to click in his brain as he watches Yunho slam into your squelching hole with a single powerful motion. 

Seonghwa feels humiliated as he watches his lover enjoy another man’s cock so readily yet his own arousal throbs with need when Yunho continues to coax him. He can’t help the hand that slips between his thighs, palming his aching length again as the goalie continues to ravage your body before him. 

When Yunho’s fingers tangle within your tresses he cannot deny how much he’s enjoying the way your back arches as he begins to pound himself into you relentlessly, his pace steady and calculated. Despite the sting of your scalp and how the position aches on your back, your cries are immediately filling the room, loud and pitchy. 

“You see, Seonghwa. This,” he grunts and thrusts heavily as he’s plowing into your cunt, enjoying how you clench around him so greedily, “— is how you should be fucking her.” 

Your boyfriend is fisting his cock harder, biting his lower lip as he stares down at you. You’re barely meeting his gaze, tears lining your eyes as you whimper and moan. Each movement of the man behind you has you lurching forward, your torso threatening to sink forward if not for the constraint on your hair. 

Looking to Seonghwa seems impossible as your eyes roll back into your head, so consumed with pleasure that you can hardly think properly. The guilt that previously haunted you is already dissipating with every sinful plunge of Yunho’s hips. 

“Does Seonghwa fuck you like this, princess?” He jerks at your hair again, a guttural noise spilling from him when he feels how you constrict around his girth. 

“Answer me, naughty girl. Does his cock feel as good as mine?” He stills his movements and his eyes are lighting with amusement as he watches you twist in place, writhing around for his cock. 

“No, damn it! Fuck me, p-please, Yunho!” You practically shout, overcome with need as you’re whining and clutching at the bedsheets, rutting back against his pelvis. He’s ecstatic to hear your begging and he resumes his pace, watching as you immediately fall into a state of euphoria and begin garbling a string of unintelligible noises. 

“Such a cock hungry girl. Don’t you enjoy seeing her like this?” 

“Y…Yeah,” The older of the two manages to sputter out his reply between his breathy groans, his eyes glazing over. He’s clutching the entirety of his dick, tip leaking at the display of your ruined and blissful state before him. 

“How about I give you a taste?” 

“Huh?” Seonghwa’s brain short circuits at the suggestion and he glimpses up to meet Yunho’s darkening stare. The look the taller man gives him has him swallowing thickly, his eyes flickering down to watch as he slides his cock out of your fluttering hole. 

“A taste,” the goalie repeats as he holds his length up, the dim lighting reflecting the trail of your juices that glisten along his shaft. Seonghwa hesitates at first but finds himself nodding. 

You want to complain when Yunho withdraws from you again, but you have no time to as he's hoisting you up right into a kneeling position. The fogginess of the pleasure begins to clear from your mind though you can still feel yourself clenching around nothing as the heat within you simmers to a pulse between your legs.

Like you, Seonghwa is eagerly anticipating Yunho's next actions, unsure of what to expect. He’s thrilled at the prospect of having his turn with the larger man, his body alight in flames. The anger has seemingly diminished from him, only a hot wave of lust coursing through his veins.

The effects of the alcohol is still present in his body, but he knows he's not delirious when he realizes just how delighted he seems at the idea of tasting Yunho’s big cock. He doesn't know if he can blame you anymore when he seems just as excited to submit to the other.

Yunho is maneuvering off the mattress, walking around to the front until he's facing you both. He motions for you to scoot back and you do so obediently, eyes wide as you await for what's to come. 

“Turn around, Seonghwa.” As swift as he can, he practically gets tangled in the bed sheets when he turns his back to the goalie. The action has him locking eyes with you, face burning up when he suddenly begins to feel shy about the notion of you witnessing his submissiveness. 

“Good boy. Now lay back for me.” Seonghwa shivers at the compliment, his cock twitching against his thigh as he falls back on the bed, his head hanging off the edge. It's in this position that he realizes what's about to happen, though he’s not sure if he's prepared. It didn’t make him any less excited though.

“Think you can take my cock?” Simultaneously the blood rushes to his head and his erection at the question. He nods eagerly and wets his lips, mouth dropping open. He’s never done something like this before yet he’s too thrilled to pass up the opportunity. 

Yunho steps forward and presses the tip of his cock against the man’s lips, humming appreciatively as his tongue darts out to circle around the tip. 

“Your boyfriend is so hungry for my dick. Doesn’t he look cute? So needy.” You squeeze your thighs together and moan, the sight of the two men shooting straight to your core in a rush of wetness. 

“So pretty, Hwa…” You join in the praises as Yunho tenderly strokes along your lover's jaw, thumb grazing his lower lip before he’s sliding the first few inches of his length into Seonghwa's mouth. 

The praise shoots straight to Seonghwa’s loins, his dick pulsing with arousal as he’s taking the cock further down his throat. He’s compliant and docile as Yunho eases deeper, his eyes trained on the sight of his dick bulging from the other’s throat. 

“So good,” Yunho groans quietly and clasps his palm around your lover’s neck, wanting to feel his own outline stretching his throat.  Your mouth waters at the sight, not wanting to be left out while you’re watching Yunho slowly fuck himself into your boyfriend’s mouth. The scene before you has you dripping with desire. 

“C-Can I?” A single nod from Yunho is all you need and you’re no sooner clambering toward Seonghwa. In his position the man doesn’t notice your movement as he’s so focused trying to hollow his cheeks around Yunho’s cock. 

When he feels the familiar weight of your body settling on top of him, he starts to gag when you suddenly sink down on his erection, clearly catching him off guard. Yunho’s length slips from his mouth in the process and he’s sputtering quietly, trying to regain his bearings. 

You’re straddling your boyfriend and dropping onto his lap, his cock getting swallowed by the warmth of your hungry walls. Seeing how he jerks up beneath you it spurs you to bounce harder on his dick, letting him stuff you full.

“Missed your cock, Hwa…” He moans at your words and flutters his eyes, his jaw slack as he feels Yunho sliding himself back into his mouth. Seonghwa is so overcome with pleasure, his body blazing with lust that he can barely process what’s happening to him. He’s never felt bliss like this before — having his lover fuck herself onto him as his mouth is being used. 

Seonghwa looks so fucked out as he’s splayed across the mattress, his hair messy and his body sheen with his sweat while you’re both stimulating him. Yunho welcomes the display wholeheartedly, grinding himself into the other’s face, groaning as saliva and drool coats his cock. 

“Such a good boy, aren’t you, Hwa? You like when I fuck your mouth? You miss her pussy around your cock?” A garbled noise comes from the man, his throat tightening as his hips buck up in response. You feel his cock pulsing within you with each sinful word that leaves Yunho’s mouth. You know he’s close but you’ve yet to scratch the surface of your orgasm as you begin to rock yourself faster on his lap.

Quickening your pace you slip your fingers between your thighs and begin to rub your clit as you’re bouncing yourself on Seonghwa’s cock, each movement dragging him back within your sopping core. The man beneath you is trying to meet your thrusts, his hands falling over your thighs and gripping tight as he begins chasing his climax. 

Seonghwa’s eyes are screwed shut, breathing heavily through his nose and he’s letting out choked and muffled noises of pleasure. The need to cum is urgent and the feeling of your walls squeezing around his length has him realizing just how much he misses your tight little pussy.

He no longer focuses on sucking Yunho’s cock, simply allowing the other to abuse his throat as he fucks himself into your cunt. The drool that dribbles down his face is evidence of Yunho’s own pace growing sloppy, his release not far behind. 

“Come for me, baby,” you gasp to him, your back arching as you feel the heat of your orgasm stirring in your belly. You’re leaning forward against his torso, your chest flush to his as you’re lifting your ass and slamming it back onto his lap repeatedly. The sound of your skin slapping resonates throughout the room, pace increasing with a hurried need as you’re moaning into his neck. 

Feeling a similar air of impatience, Yunho holds Seonghwa by his hair and pulls himself back before he’s thrusting forward powerfully. The single motion of Yunho’s cock hitting the back of his throat causes the male to gurgle in discomfort but the goalie doesn’t pull away and he groans deeply, his cock spasming in the other’s mouth until he’s spurting his thick and milky seeds down Seonghwa’s throat. 

At the same time, your lover feels how your hole clenches and gushes around his cock. The needy pace you’re rocking against him has his length throbbing within you. Your actions combined with the lack of air in his lungs and the impact of Yunho’s thrusts into his mouth has his vision going spotty. His thighs shake and he’s seeing white as he orgasms hard and abruptly, his load filling your cunt with rope after rope of his hot release.

As he’s climaxing, he’s struggling to swallow the cum in his mouth, most of it spilling out past his lips and dripping down his nose and down his cheeks. When Yunho finally pulls away, Seonghwa is coughing and sputtering as he tries to regain his breath. The high of his orgasm is still clouding his mind even as he’s left a panting mess. 

On top of him, you’re still desperately trying to chase your own crescendo as you work yourself feverishly on his lap. Your fingers are slick and slippery with your arousal, gliding over your clit over and over as your cunt begins to convulse around Seonghwa’s cock.

You’re both still moaning and you’re riding out his orgasm, your own looming closely. Yunho is stroking Seonghwa’s cheek, moving away the strands of hair that stick to his sweat laden face. He has already recovered from his own climax and leans down to purr encouragingly into Seonghwa’s ear. 

“Such a good boy. Make our princess cum, hm?” 

Seonghwa keens at the other’s words and snaps his hips upward, driving himself into you with the last semblance of his strength. Your eyes are blearily focusing below you, taking in the view of your sweaty and fucked out boyfriend who’s so determined to make you come. 

Similarly the sight of Yunho hovering before your lover with his cum painted on Seonghwa’s face has you shaking with arousal, your thighs quivering when you feel yourself coming undone on your boyfriend’s cock. With a final slide of your digits past your swollen nub, you peak into your orgasm, his slowed thrusts combined with your sloppy movements sending you over the edge. 

Your hole squeezes around his cock and your juices mix in with his release as you finally climax. He can barely take the overstimulation as you clench around him a final time, your bodies coming to a still. Even after you’re past your high, he can still feel the after effects that are evident from your fluttering walls.

Once you’re finished, you tiredly slump against his torso, your skin sticking together from the perspiration that covers both your bodies. You’re too worn out to move, simply resting against your lover’s chest as you both breathe quietly. The fatigue overtakes you before you know it and your eyes are falling shut before you can stop yourself.

You don’t know how much time passes before you awake but someone has helped you clean up and you now lay cozily beneath Yunho’s blankets. Between a series of blinking and yawning, you groggily note that Seonghwa lays beside you peacefully, his eyes widening with joy as he’s watching you come to. 

“Hey, sleepy girl.” 

There’s a pregnant pause and you try to recollect your thoughts, trying to recall all that has happened up to this moment. Dread and realization falls over you immediately and you’re shooting up, blanket slipping off you. With your back straight, you hastily try to get up from the bed as a feeling of panic floods you.

You fucked up, you fucked up. You royally fucked up! 

“Woah, woah. Slow down, babe.” Your boyfriend coos softly and tries to work you down, pushing you back against the mattress and rubbing your shoulders in slow and soothing motions. 

“How are you being so calm? I literally just cheated on you!” 

Seonghwa scratches the back of his head nervously and looks away for a moment before he grasps both of your hands, squeezing them in his palms.

“Listen, uh… I gave it some thought and I think Yunho is right.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh?”

As if on cue Yunho steps into the bedroom, one towel around his waist while he’s drying his hair with another. He blinks in surprise at you both but smiles nonetheless, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

“Oh good! You’re awake, princess.” 

“What the hell is going on?” You look between the pair in confusion.

“Long story short, I know I’ve been a bad boyfriend but I think Yunho can help us work through some of that. I mean… if you’re down, of course.”

“I-I… I mean. What? Are you sure? Yeah, I-I think I am down.” They chuckle at your rambling.

Despite all that has happened, you never expected this type of proposal from Seonghwa. You honestly thought you would wake up to the shit show of him dumping you after you all sobered up. 

Yunho somehow worked his magic on the both of you and to your benefit as well. Even with your circumstances, you can’t deny the idea of it all excites you. You just knew that Mingi would have a field day after he found out.

“I’m still mad at you though. You could have just talked to me,” he tuts at you, shaking his head slightly. 

“I tried, Hwa! You were always too busy!”

“You’re right and I’m sorry. That was definitely my bad but it’s alright, babe. I’ll make sure we make it up to each other. Plus we have Yunho now.” A tremble of excitement runs down your spine at the mention of your new partner. 

Seonghwa has an adoring look in his eyes, though there is a dangerous intent behind his smile as he reaches up to gently stroke your cheek.

“I know you won’t betray me again though. We’ll make sure of it.”

His words have you nervous and aroused, rubbing your thighs together as you feel a heat pooling in your lower belly.

Beside you Yunho sports his own wolfish grin when he meets your stare, placing his hand over your thigh and rubbing circles close to your sex.  “Hwa is kind of scary when he’s mad, huh? Don’t worry though, princess. When he’s begging for my cock, you can help me make sure he’s the one being a good boy.”

[littlemissstel]

Troublemaker- Shiu Kong

What is Shiu to do when he gets a call from his daughter asking to be picked up? But he thought she was at home...

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You and Shiu loved your kids. You did. However you had never known any others to be quite as monstrous as they were. Everyone said that they would eventually grow out of their mischievous ways, however after your eldest entered her teen years the untamable spirit she retained only grew and you came to believe they were just your karma personified. Your first was sneaky, the second was loud and hyperactive - causing a mess wherever he went- and your third...well you were lucky if she even gave you the time of day, rolling her eyes, she tended to use her face to express more than she did her words and was ever so cunning.

You tried to keep up but the weekends offered no respite as the chaos you normally got to hide from six hours a day continued at an unrelenting pace and left you as nothing but a mindless ghoul at the end of it as you collapsed into your bed.

Shiu would normally be right behind you in doing this, but tonight he managed to exert the last of his energy into tidying the remaining miscellaneous items that littered the dinning table before settling limply on the sofa, eyes closed and head tossed back. The idea was to secretly finish the remaining episode of a series you both binged, however the low rumble of your sons gaming console acted as white noise that tempted him into a deep sleep, the darkness becoming a blanket over him as he sunk further and further into the cloud cushions.

All was well. All was calm.

Was. The sound of his phone ringing pierced through the once so soothing atmosphere and he sprung up, reaching for his phone with such urgency he worried about throwing his back out. He waited a second, eyes adjusting to the brightness before recognising the name on the screen. His eldest daughter. Now was the time to sigh. The most she could want was a glass of water and a pack of sweets and he inwardly teased himself for acting so exaggerated.

"Hi, honey" he says though he was not welcomed with the same greeting. Instead a cacophony of unintelligible sounds blurred in his ear, forcing him to move back in both pain and confusion.

Well that certainly wasn't coming from here. The house was silent, the sound of a pin dropping could count as a disturbance, so what on earth was going on?

"Honey? Are you there?"

"Yeah" her uncharacteristically small voice calls out, and he can't help but notice the way it shakes. Sitting up and leaning forward, elbows on knees he gives her his full attention, acting as if she were sat in front of him.

"What's going on? You're not home are you?"

"No--and I'm so sorry", She breaks fully, "Can you please pick me up? I swear it's not that far a-"

"Send me your location. Are you hurt?"

"No..."

"Okay."

And the line continues without another word spoken. Though Shiu's mind was far from peaceful. The moment she had sent where she was he stepped on the peddle driving an inexcusable amount over the speed limit which was prompted by his sweet girls muffled cries.

The address seemed to be a house, at least she was in a residential area but what was she doing there? Who had she gone to see? Most importantly how did he not notice? A detective all those years and yet he couldn't figure out when his own daughter was in trouble. No, he couldn't figure out why she snuck out. He had tried his very best to give his children the freedom they deserved and he'd much rather know about their mistakes than have them make it alone. It's not like he ever denied them of going out and having fun without rational reasoning and they knew that- so why was he driving to an unknown location at 2 am to pick up his weeping daughter?

Unlike his previous experiences, the adrenaline spike he felt was anything but pleasant and his blood rushed with anxiety. Eventually he neared the location looking around hastily for any sign of his daughter.

"Where are you? Can you see me?"

And suddenly a figure emerged out of the dark from one of the porches, alerting a sensory light to come on where he saw his daughter in a state he would wish to erase. Stepping out of the car meeting her will-less body halfway he engulfed her into his arms, one wrapped securely around her head as he pressed a soft kiss into her hair. He was sure they were hugging for different reasons, him in deep relief that she was safe and hers for reasons unknown but it didn't matter now as she looked up, tearful, mascara smudged eyes meeting his and he felt his heart break once more. Quickly taking off the jumper he wore, he opened it ready for her to put on, she wore a lacey top and a skirt two inches too short - both of which he had never seen before- but perhaps now wasn't the time to bring it up, it was a wonder she didn't catch hypothermia before he arrived in the first place.

"I'm so sorry"

"It's alright" he assures, guiding her to the car, "Let's get home before you freeze."

The night continues with the two of them in the car silently, Shiu driving much slower than before as he cautiously looks at his daughter through the mirror. He wasn't quite sure what to do, if this would be the time were he says something to try and put her at ease, maybe berate her for doing something so careless. He wasn't quite sure he'd be speaking to the same daughter he was used to, never had he been warned about this kind of situation before when people teased him about having such a fiery child but right now it seemed that fire had been extinguished completely and he yearned for the slightest sight of a flame.

"Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?" Shiu repeated inwardly but it wasn't a question. He felt himself slip the moment she was born and now he grovelled in the helplessness as she grew.

He had been relying on muscle memory throughout the car ride as he thoughtlessly pulled into the driveway slowly and lowering the lights so as to not alert anyone inside. Ah...What was he to tell you? He would tell you, of course ,but now? Would you be mad if he waited until the morning, would your girl still be in such a sorry state when she woke up? A thousand more worries came up in Shiu's mind and what could soothe them?

"Thank you, Dad" The girl spoke out cautiously, already looking at him as he turned and he couldn't help but view her ten years younger.

Still at a loss he repeated the same phrase, "It's alright, Love." and gave a squeeze to her hand to which she gave a slight smile.

He sighed.

"I will have to tell your mum..."

The girl looked down and away.

"I know..."

"You know we aren't evil..."

"I know...but can we talk about it in the morning? please?"

"Okay."

And Shiu hoped that somehow, through the exchange and his eyes, she knew that he would always be there for her.

Catch the arcane ref? I'm so happy with how this turned out!!!

Please feel free to leave any recs/ideas x

[eowynstwin]

i have this fascination with price. hes sort of this unsulliable steel, consistently to nearly always making the (as the games frame it) correct decisions, even when hes playing fast and loose with the law. his plans always work, hes never truly failed in the sense of real negative consequences for a choice (until 3 but 3 was badly written and i did not like it). hes always (in the game's framing) right. he never shows a moment of weakness. i love him ❤ i want to see him suffer i want him to make an objectively wrong choice. i want that choice to have consequences that shake his steady foundations and rock him to his core. i want him to fail. is that weird? i want him to lose control of his carefully maintained stony exterior. i want to see that side of him that is barely acknowledged to be genuinely explored. i know people justify it by saying hes a military captain in a ridiculously tough branch to get into, so of course hes like that, but in real life those guys are just as human as the rest of us, just as capable of mistakes and taking fat Ls and making poor decisions. I do love his character, he is my blorbo, i just want to put him in a jar and shake him real hard. is that weird?

Deadass, when I heard what happens in mw3 (still haven't gotten around to watching it, I'm fond of my brain cells and I feel like it'll kill some of them)--my first thought was that they should've killed Price.

Price is always barely restraining himself but he manages to keep himself in check for the most part. I imagine he's learned the hard way that if he lets his feelings dictate his actions then a lot of people get hurt.

Gaz and Soap, however, do not have the benefit of his experience. Ghost does, but he doesn't wield authority like Price's, and I have the feeling that he believes the Price keeps him in check (in his origin comics, he has frequent nightmares in which he assaults and murders people, because he went through months of classical conditioning in captivity).

So, let's say Mak shoots Price dead instead. Suddenly there's no one there to guide the surviving 141. Suddenly the wealth of experience he had to offer, the instincts for warfare that he honed over decades, is gone. Gaz loses his mentor. Ghost loses the man who holds his leash. Soap loses the one commanding officer he had any faith in.

Can you feel how that would raise the stakes exponentially? Price's influence, throughout the reboot, has kept everyone in line. He knows how to break the rules effectively while minimizing the consequences. He knows how to ignore distractions. He is ruthlessly efficient, without being brutal. The other three just do not have those skills. They are not capable of doing what Price does. They have neither the experience (in Gaz and Soap's case) nor the disposition (in Ghost's case).

Price dying would send shockwaves through the 141--through the entire cast--in ways that Soap's death just does not. Soap should have been the one in Shepherd's office with a silenced gun, because assassinating a FUCKING FOUR STAR AMERICAN GENERAL IN THE PENTAGON!!!!! Is not what an experienced captain in the SAS would do, no matter how he feels!!!!!! That is what a sergeant with more aptitude than sense and an overwhelming feeling of rage and loss would do!!!!!!

Aaaaand this is a rant nearly completely unrelated to what you were talking about lol. Sorry. I do want to see that old man suffer don't get me wrong. It's just that the suffering he's been set up for now, in canon, is SO MUCH BULLSHIT.

[theharddeck]

can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader

pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink

word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings

A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.

This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together. 

It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries. 

It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.

Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off. 

You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room. 

“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”

You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables. 

“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”

“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.” 

“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.

“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”

You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it. 

“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”

Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you. 

“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”

“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”

The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.

“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things. 

Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him. 

“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out. 

“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on. 

“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.

“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly. 

“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”

You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door. 

“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.

“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more. 

You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him. 

You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly. 

“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly. 

He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you. 

“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.

“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”

Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.

“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”

Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all. 

He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home. 

You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home. 

 When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss. 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones. 

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”

The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house. 

Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room. 

At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor. 

His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.  

He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting. 

Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him. 

“Thank you.”

He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’. 

Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened. 

“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”

He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses. 

Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more. 

He pulled back.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you. 

“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you. 

“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes. 

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”

He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs. 

He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow. 

Jake chuckled against your core. 

“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”

“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly. 

“Please,” you begged, “I need—”

“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he knew it, the asshole.

“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse. 

“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”

Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man. 

He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours. 

“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice. 

He thrust two fingers into you.

You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you. 

“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.” 

The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you. 

“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”

“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs. 

“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.” 

His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter. 

You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it. 

“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”

You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core. 

Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you. 

“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand. 

“Good,” you whispered. 

Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”

His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought. 

“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”

This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. 

When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss. 

Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck. 

“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”

And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him. 

“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.

He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”

Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store. 

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you. 

“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment. 

The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly. 

“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head. 

Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting. 

You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes. 

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again. 

“More than that,” he whispered.

He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought. 

You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”

You froze.

When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?

While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot. 

You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.  

“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip. 

If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend. 

It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you. 

But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind. 

“Green,” you whispered. 

Jake’s eyes closed. 

The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him. 

“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you. 

This kiss was different. 

It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.

It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.

He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.  

“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this. 

You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock. 

“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm. 

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”

“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning. 

“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”

You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core. 

“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”

“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward. 

Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full. 

“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.

The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes. 

Fuck, he looked so good.

Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp. 

Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.  

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”

You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled. 

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”

Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours. 

“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”

“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it. 

So, yeah, you were back to need. 

“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.” 

You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.

“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”

You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him. 

“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.” 

You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.

“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”

You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again. 

“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined. 

“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did. 

“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”

“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him. 

“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head. 

“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”

Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”

“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”

Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you. 

“Ten…” he prompted.

“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit. 

“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”

“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.

“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”

His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”

“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait. 

“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it. 

“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”

The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow. 

“Six; I’m not going to—”

“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”

Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”

You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely. 

“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”

His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together. 

“Three,” you cried.

“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”

Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you. 

“Two,” you moaned.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”

“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours. 

“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—” 

Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.

The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake. 

Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard. 

Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop. 

Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin. 

Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you. 

The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you. 

You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened. 

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. 

“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”

“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.    

Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment. 

He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did. 

As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.

“Not really,” he said quietly. 

You’d expected as much. “Okay.”

Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp. 

“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute. 

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”

Shit. 

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.

“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.

“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”

Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be. 

Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it. 

His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. 

“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said. 

Your heart stopped. 

“What?” you managed.

“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”

He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this. 

“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.

Only he didn’t. 

He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.

“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else. 

Jake sighed. “I hated it.”

You jolted at his words. “What?”

“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.” 

You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that. 

You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous. 

Well, that made two of you.

“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”

A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours. 

“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.” 

And then he kissed you.

For a moment, you were frozen. 

This couldn’t be happening. 

It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you. 

But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream. 

Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.

Like hell. 

You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long. 

You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.

His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them. 

“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”

He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase. 

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”

Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—” 

“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”

You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened. 

“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

//

taglist: @peakyrogers @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @princessofglitterland @mandylove1000 @daggerspare-standingby @blue-aconite @abaker74 @lt-bradshaw @dempy @callsignvalley @princessphilly @aurora-whispers @mxgyver @mlibbydp @bioodforbiood @thedroneranger

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for venting?

Emojis, so I can find it later 💯⁉️💥 (unrelated, I just use them a lot)

So I(16) have been struggling with depression since I was, like, 10. It's been worse and better over the years, but something that really triggers it is extreme weather. Dunno why, but if its hot as fuck outside I *will* be considering suicide.

I regularly go to sleepaway camp every year. I usually do two weeks and usually go during the summer rainy season. Well, a year or two back (can't remember, got that depression and ADHD memory loss) I went later on in the summer than I usually do, and it was really fucking hot out. The whole time.

I could deal with it for a couple of days, especially because I was having a bit of romantic tension with J(16) (not real name, not even real initial). "I can survive any situation as long as I have a crush on someone there", or whatever that post said. He was really sweet and also suffered from depression. We talked about our struggles together, and he seemed to be responsive and chill about it. He did have trauma from his past with loved ones committing suicide, but he seemed to have worked through his grief and didn't have negative reactions when it was mentioned.

Here's where I might be the asshole. Eventually, the heat got to be too much for me, not to get too graphic but I was making plans, so I sent my parents a letter asking to pick me up. I waited a couple days for them to recieve it, and they did and called and said they would pick me up in the morning.

I delivered the news to everyone by being quite vague about what I had to go home for. When pressed, I said my parents didn't give any details and I was a little worried. That explained my acting weird away to everyone, but not J. He didn't believe me for one minute, and was determined to get to the bottom of it.

He took me outside, asked me what was wrong, and told me it was ok to tell him. It took a little convincing, but I eventually broke down and told him I was having suicidal ideation and that I needed to get the fuck out of dodge or I might do something drastic. I specified that I would be completely fine once I got out of the oppressive heat and humidity, just that I had to go home ASAP. I did ask him not to tell anyone because I didn't want them to worry, which I realize now was unkind. I should have at least told a counselor so that he wasn't alone.

Anyway, he immediately started having full-fledged PTSD flashbacks. I couldn't tell at first, but then I realized what was going on and tried to comfort him. It didn't work. The counselor that came check on us just kicked me out. I went back inside feeling guilty, but I was hoping that I reassured him enough that he would be ok.

He acted normal for the rest of the time I was there (we even kissed! That was my first kiss) and made me promise to text him when I got home. Naturally, I did, reassuring him and telling him I was feeling infinitely better now that I had air conditioning and my phone. When he got home from camp a week later, he seemed a little freaked out but seemed to be mollified by my texts.

However, a couple days after that, he texted me out of nowhere, saying that I shouldn't have told him about what I was going home about because I gave him constant PTSD flashbacks for the rest of camp. He felt sick with worry the whole time. I felt like shit, obviously, so I responded with profuse apologies. He seemed to accept them but still feel a little resentful.

I still feel really fucking bad about it. I actually haven't told anyone I know IRL about. Well. Pretty much anything bothering me since. I know that's a bit of an overreaction, but I don't want to do that to anyone else.

So, am I the asshole?

(By the way, if you were there or know me, I would love it if you could just ignore this. Please and thank you. And also never make me know you read this cause that would be embarrassing as fuck lol)

[mentallhealthmatters]

No, there are still so many reasons to support and believe Shelby instead of Wilbur, including how many people they both know publicly came out to support Shelby because of what she was put through.

No there isnt. People publically supporting her means nothing if they also contrdict her statements that they were witnessed that saw anything.

She went though nothing that was abuse, shitty sure, but not abuse. Good people can do shitry things but arent abusers for it, but the worse of the worst she claimed happened she straight up refused to show proof of.

Additionally.

She claimed to not have known that disney, qho owns 1/3 or more of the companies on the boycot list, was on the boycot list. You do not need to know this fact to know its on the boycot list. You do not need it to be explictly on the boycot list to boycot it as unrelated to the boycot list they are a generally shitty company constantly partnering with other boycot listed comlanies anyways.

She claimed to not be on twitter/was taking a break, but the boycot and what is and isnt on it isnt excluisve twitter knowledge, and even then it was on the boycot list BEFORE she took her break WHILE she was also encouraging others to boycot, meaning either she was lying to save face or she admited to not actually caring about the boycot, either way she admitted to be stupid.

Shes said inanely stupid and ablest things about people who have NPD (are narcacists) people APD (anti social personality disorcer aka being psycho or sociopath) and generally people with depression, claiming its jsut feeling a little sad and lazy, and implying they are just choosing to be slobbish and lazy, not because being depressed actually effects your fucking life. Shes ablest but in white tiktok aesthetic socially accepted girl way where its somehow #girlpower and #mindful #selfcare to be like this and think this mindset.

Its not. Its just ablesm there is no excuse for it.

She wasnt even in live girlfriend for wilbur she VISITED him occasional and stayed over, but in her own words would not visit him often, to point it was mention of complaint going as far to claim that he "forced" her to pay for her own ticket once, though thats not something hes obligated to do??? And apparently that and refusing to pay for HER OWN CATS PET BILLS is somehow fiancial abuse.

No im afriad there is no reason to support shelby, even without the wilbut situation shes proven to be very stupid, toxic, and fake on social media for clout. I wpuldnt support her even then, and i used to not like wilbur, and didnt start out defending wilbur. But i quickly picked up on Shelby's issues andnher ablesm and refused to support her even if i didnt support wilbur anymore.

Its just the more she lets this drag out, the more cracks in "perfect victim" status show, to thw point not is a situation ok no actually both are bad and i dont support either, its getting so bad cracks in her mask are starting to shoe that her claims just..hold up based off how she shows herself to hypocritical, ablest and fakes shit for clout in other areas, outside of the wilbur situstion.

Wilbur isnt the problem, she is, and these other situation show a patturn of behavior in some way prove how she applies her behavoir problems to other situations, its like.

No i very much disagree. Shes whire trash actually and fakes shit for clout. I dont trust her peripd.

[annabel-lee-nevermore]

Hey. I'm sure all of you have seen Red's post, which they chose to call an apology (though I beg to differ in some parts), where I was called out amongst many others. This whole situation is a mess and though there have been many posts already, I just want to add my two cents, as someone who was directly named. Apologies for how late this is compared to the rest of the situation, not trying to stir it all up again, I’ve just been busy. (Please note that everything I say here is my own take/opinions and I am not directly speaking for anyone else, any issues you have with anything said here are with me alone.) 

First of all, Red promised this post would be about the Crimson situation, the long prologue with the explanations of the "cliques" is completely unrelated and just an attempt to shift blame onto other groups for the situation blowing up as it did. This is especially horrible because of the fact that many of the people named are MINORS, who Red has constantly claimed to prioritize protecting, especially in the situation with Crimson exposing minors to NSFW. I'm not going to harp too much on the Crimson situation as I wasn't involved (or capable of being involved after my ban), though everything I have seen from Red has been a shitshow of mishandling, which they addressed, and I will give them credit for admitting they fucked up with it, and am VERY glad to see them step back from moderating, as I feel they were under far too much stress by both being highly active in the server as a mod and also trying to write a good story, and hope a larger variety of mods does the server good. I was there when the server hit 1k members, and knowing that the mod team didn’t grow until now (when last I heard it was around 6k?) feels like it would have driven anyone trying to moderate it insane. 

However, I am here to give my side of the story, which goes back to the drama with the confession blog "@/esoterichistoria", in which they were sent an anon ask which [paraphrased] asked why the account existed and what they got out of it, in a sense that implied they didn't believe the account should exist. This ask was not answered publicly and was screenshotted and posted in the hideout, one of the NON PATREON channels in the discord. Red then went on to reveal themselves as the person behind this anon ask which led to other people sending harassment to the account. I was firmly on the side of supporting EH, and wound up creating a post of my own  calling out the hypocrisy and "word of god" reliance on lore snippets sent by Red and Flynn in the discord, which when sent in the free channels would eventually disperse into the tumblr fandom. Unless I mistakenly shared a minor fact that was patreon exclusive (which would have only been shared to me by someone who was affected asking if they were right to be concerned about it) I did not intentionally state any patreon only information in any of my comments within and under that post. 

That post for me, was what happened when the straw broke the camel's back. I had seen several instances of fan to fan hostility (such as telling people off for using the tumblr "#nevermore webtoon" tag for confession blog related posts, but only for the original blog and not the second one that popped up during this drama). I was fed up with watching a fandom I truly loved fall apart, and felt that speaking up about it would be the only way to see any change within this issue. However, I will admit the post was written in a stress induced craze as I was at the end of finals and preparing to move at the same time, which definitely greatly impacted my capacity to truly think through why I should make that post in the first place, but I felt the only way to get the drama out of my head was to send it out into the void of tumblr, and then, through the next day when I had a few spare moments I responded to a few people asking clarifying questions with less than stellar tact. 

It was quite shocking for me to find out, just a day or so later (forgive me I am not the greatest with dates or timelines) that the Nevermore discord was gone from my server list, which I mainly noticed because I often use the emotes from that server in casual conversations with friends, and found my favorited emotes completely lacking of them. I had no message of why I had been banned, and shrugged it off as I hadn't been active in the discord community in ages, as I was busy with other things. 

A few hours later, Percy, who Red had reached out to directly (but none of the other members of our "clique" as Red puts it heard a peep) shared a truly baffling DM that consisted of refusing to explain and extrapolating reasons behind actions that did not exist to justify the ban. We laughed it off and moved on, as though we enjoyed the fandom and comic itself, losing access to the discord was no loss as of our lack of usage of it in the first place. 

I was in no way Stalking, nor were any of my friends. We had been members of a fandom who loved the comic and fandom, and had come to a point where our unpopular fandom opinions led us to feel a bit on the outside of the main popular opinion, and we were also just naturally shifting to different interests. 

This, alongside the fallout of having expressed opinions on Montresor and the specific ways that his relationship with Ada progressed. I DON'T see people who ship Montrada as supporting a "SA Fetish Ship", I just personally wasn't a fan of it and alongside my friends who shared the same opinion, was sick of being told that we were blatantly WRONG for having a differing opinion, and chose to distance ourselves because of the level of vitriol we had experienced, and some made a statement saying we didn't wish to associate with people who enjoyed the ship, which is a perfectly normal way to interact with fandom. There are definitely perfectly valid ways to interact with the ship, and even explore it in interesting ways, it is just ways that I personally am not interested in engaging with. 

(And just to point out the elephant in the room, yes I have a fic that focuses on Montrada, both because I saw a part of my former self in Ada and someone who hurt me in Montresor, and this fic was planned out long before Montrada was hinting at becoming canon in the comic. Though this fic is written in an explicit manner, it was on a site that allows that and was tagged correctly for those who wish to avoid it.) 

I know I'm trying to prove myself to people who have made up their minds on if they believe Red's statement, and I know for those who have their minds made up, nothing I can say will change that unless they are willing to, and I can't force that. I personally do not agree with many opinions Red holds, and find the act of plastering the usernames of people, including minors, that they dislike on a public tumblr post knowing they have a loyal fanbase who may choose to take it upon themselves to harass people out of a sense of vigilante justice, frankly abhorrent and irresponsible. Though I would like to believe that the Nevermore fandom is better than stooping to harassment, I know it is naive to believe in any fandom that this is the case, every fandom will have a few bad apples, even if the fandom at large is kind and passionate and supportive of fellow fans. (note: as of writing at least one person I've been in contact with have received direct harassment) 

As someone who has a tendency to come across as rude and bitchy when in a passionate argument/debate with someone, especially when an emotional connection to the subject is involved on my end, I know I may have been combative to an excessive degree and given myself a bad name. For anyone who has felt hurt in an argument with me, I do apologize, as sometimes I don't know the harshness of my words. I do quite enjoy a good argument, and when things get heated I do find myself being quite harsh, something many people do, especially when they have had a history of being the only one on their side of an opinion.  

Despite the drama, I do still love the comic, through a more analytical lens and with caveats of my own personal opinions perhaps, but I do truly love the characters, the world, and am curious to know what comes next in the story when it returns from hiatus. Though I don't believe I will ever have a positive view of Red interpersonally, I want them and Flynn to be able to continue the comic for as long as they feel they need to tell a complete story. I probably will continue to write fic and engage with the fandom, as in my opinion, Fandom is for the Fans, not the Creators, and I truly do love sharing my writing with the Fandom, and I have many fic ideas that I want to have a chance to bring to fruition. 

For those who don't wish to dig in deep on the older drama with the Montrada situation or my general drama hot takes, you can hop off here, and even if this didn't change anything for you I appreciate you taking the chance on hearing me out, as I am quite wordy and I know this post is already rather long. However, since Red’s post brought up these issues, I feel I should at least address them.

First off, on the accusation of stalking, I do feel Red may be pointing a finger and forgetting that three point back at them, as though I do understand wanting to have a grasp on who someone is when you feel wronged by them, going out of your way to construct a narrative of who's friends with who, and what they do in their free time, alongside congregating information about them to share publicly when even in the best case of you being correct their crimes were at MOST having an insular group chat and occasionally getting in arguments about unpopular fandom opinions or standing opposite your side in drama. 

By every metric, while sharing screenshots can be seen as in bad taste, doing so with a small group of friends in a private group chat is not the end of the world. The phrase "keep it in the group chat" exists for a reason, people often share with their friends things they may not say publicly, and that is perfectly okay provided it's not planning some sort of direct attack on someone. People going "ugh I don't agree with xyz and wish they'd see reason" to friends is not stalking, it's a bit of gossip between friends, and when it comes from something that began as a shared interest that brought the group together, there's no harm in it. However, congregating identifying information and sharing it publicly DOES have harm in it, because no matter how many times you tell your audience not to harass people, opening the doors for it makes it more likely to happen regardless.

Secondly, calling the post an apology was a half truth. Yes, the final paragraphs WERE an apology, but based on the situation and what was truly going on, the explanations of the Cliques was unnecessary and distracted greatly from the actual apology present. Especially as the context of “Clique 2” does NOTHING to add to the story of the situation with Crimson and why an apology is necessary. The situation was blown greatly out of proportion by adding on more context than the situation required, and is definitely the reason the controversy has grown so large. Not only was diverting to the explanations of the Cliques cluttering the otherwise potentially strong apology, it both works to paint Red as the victim to garner sympathy from loyal fans, and gives a target to go after for why the situation has grown so horrible, when a concise apology that left that all out would have cleared the air on the Crimson situation and not led to a large group of people who were unjustly called out and have their information blasted for anyone to see and opening them to excessive harassment. 

Finally, Speaking to Red directly, If you'll allow me to speak at you a bit personally for a moment, the way you framed things in your post regarding "Clique 2" to me in some regards comes across as a misinterpretation of criticism of the comic and its characters as a criticism of you. As a writer I understand how your work often feels like an extension of you, and criticism often feels personal, but to take a small group of people who share a similar criticism and extrapolate it to mean they're spreading vitriol about you is a bit extreme. 

(And in screenshots regarding the Prospero aromanticism issue that have been posted to tumblr, this seems to be a recurring pattern of seeing anyone who has concerns about how a certain aspect is being normalized within the fandom with encouragement from the creators, which regardless of intent comes across as endorsement, as an attack and trying to make an issue out of something that isn’t really that deep.) 

Anyways, the main situation regarding the Montresor and Ada ship happened over a year ago and I have no way to access or look back on what was said having been banned from the discord, there may be discrepancies in intent and execution so take all of this with a grain of salt if you'd like, but I never meant to say that you as the author were glorifying SA by having Montresor and Ada to exist as a ship. It was a mixture frustration with how Ada's characterization (as interpreted by what existed in the comic) did a 180 and how the relationship between her and Monty was framed and the fandom's manner of acting as if saying that it personally made someone uncomfortable they were just a hater trying to stir drama. The fandom's usage of the phrase “fun toxic” and overromanticizing when Monty had been consistently characterized as misogynistic (not a bad thing) and Ada's prior characterization didn't line up with the “mutually toxic” idea that was being spread. I'd be a hypocrite if I was saying that every ship had to be morally pure, I've written some pretty morally bankrupt relationships in my own original works. I just found that the way the fandom acted around Montrada at the time was really uncomfortable to be around as an SA survivor simply because of the way people were changing their opinions of the barking scene, which to me with just the context of the scene itself was not at all something Ada did consensually (or only did under coercion) and is a form of humiliation which is sexual harassment. 

It was never a moral righteousness witch hunt or anything, more just some fans pointing out how the portrayal of it could come off to people who was a survivor of someone who acted like Monty and that the energy in the fandom around it was uncomfortable and didn't actually leave room for nuance on the opinions of Montrada. I have always been a proponent of letting people ship what they want to, even if it’s personally not what I enjoy in the fandom. Perhaps the way it was portrayed on my end at the time didn’t come off the way it was intended, but there is a massive difference in my opinion between thinking anyone who enjoys a particular ship is evil and being personally uncomfortable with a ship and not wanting to engage with it within fandom, even with it being canon. And the preference for Morella and Ada was never upholding a "morally pure" ship as "better" than Montrada, it was simply preference from people who had already been shipping Morellada for a long time and didn't choose to abandon ship over Montrada becoming canon, only finding new reasons to continue holding that opinion. 

All in all. I’ll miss when the good times of the fandom were around, and definitely will stick around for season 2. I wish it hadn’t all turned out this way, as I’ve made great memories and friends because of this comic and community. To anyone who still has questions or something to say to me, my ask box and dms here have always been open. And hey, if Red or Flynn have anything to say to me, feel free to reach out. I’m open to a civil conversation if that's what’s desired. 

~~ Rose, of the “dark stalker Clique”

[ideas-4-stories]

One piece story idea where Buggy has had medical issues since he was a baby, but most of them went unknown, undiagnosed, or not caught early enough to "make a difference".

Buggy with an autoimmune disorder of some kind (leaning to fibromayalgia bc I love projecting on my baby blue blorbo, but also the overactive nerves would tie in nicely with his devil fruit)

Buggy with hypermobility at the very least, possible Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, but it's damn near impossible to properly diagnose due to his DF and the tech available by and large.

On the Oro Jackson, few genuinely believed when Buggy would say something hurt or felt wrong or when he was more foggy headed than usual. Shanks could always read him like an open book. Roger could hear the changes in his youngest's Voice. Crocus did the best he could, but his options were limited and his attention was split. It was Roger, Rayleigh and Shanks who were Buggy's main support system.

Roger absolutely cried the first time Buggy got injured in a big fight and casually relocated a joint with just a soft hiss. That alone had been jarring, but Buggy's response to Shanks' worried question of "are you okay, does it hurt-," left the captain biting back tears. How else is a father supposed to feel when his little boy simply rolls hod eyes and says "not much more than normal"

When Roger disbanded the crew, the plan was to leave the boys on Drum. It had good doctors, Buggy would get more support, and it was rarely an island under siege due to the medical renown it had. They of course did not tell the boys as such, and it was only through a series of wacky events that lead Kureha to meeting them and taking a liking to their sparks. Shanks wasn't the most interested in medicine but he learned some things, specifically first aid and some things to help Buggy. He actually found psychology pretty interesting when he had the patience and attention span to spare. Buggy on the other hand took to it all like a fish to water.

They were there for almost two years when the newspaper was delivered and both boys lost their SHIT when the headline announced the execution of their captain, their father. Kureha sent them off, arguably with more supplies than they needed, and gave them her Denden number to reach her if they needed anything at all. She couldn't go with them, but she refused to send them truly alone.

They have their fight in the plaza, but it doesn't end with a monumental break up. They meet back up the next day, and they bite the bullet together and talk.

They take some time to come to a decision moving forward.

They ultimately decide to go with the co-captain avenue but with careful misdirection and smoke and mirrors. To the world at large, they will seem completely independent and unrelated. In truth, they will be leveraging their independent skills to further themselves and each other. The brains and brawn, as it were.

It works out in their favor for a good deal of time until the cluster fuck that is marineford. Secrets are out, identities revealed, and Buggy is having 6395716 panic attacks stacked up like Legos.

He and Shanks roll with it as best they can, trying to salvage what they feasibly could.

Two years later, Cross Guild is formed and begins rolling. Buggy's crew knows of his illnesses/disabilities, but he has a strict set up to address them. It's on a need to know basis.

Crocodile and Mihawk just so happened to swirl in like a hurricane and never got the memo until there was an attack on the island.

Somehow, someway, Buggy got absolutely soaked in sea water, but he's still fighting, knives in hand, bobbing and weaving with a trail of blood in his wake. It's as he pivots to lunge that Mihawk catches sight of him suddenly paling, a minute flinch, but beyond that, Buggy doesn't react, instead throwing the knife, reaching down and making a strange move at his knee before he cringed, took a sharp inhale, and dove back into the fray.

Upon asking why, hours later in the meeting tent, the swordsman and mafioso present blink when Buggy shrugs and says "oh, my knee cap tried to dislocate. Couldn't disconnect with the sea water so I had to push it back by hand."

"Pardon?"

"Hm?" Buggy glances up from where he's brushing some dried remnants of the battle from his locks, one eye shut against the debris. "What?"

"What caused the injury? I did not see any attacks to your legs in the chaos."

"Oh, it just happens sometimes," Buggy says casually, as if this were knowledge the other two ought to know. "I'm used to it."

They are not sure what to do, nor how to respond. They let it rest for the time being but they do keep a closer eye on their chairman following this.

They learn Buggy is rather adept at working with and around his unusual burdens, either disconnecting a joint or alleviating pressure on it until it can be addressed, even chop-chopping the offending area back to the proper place. They catch sight, now that they know to look, of hints of braces, wraps, the way Buggy occasionally presses his iced drink to a knee, a wrist, on an ankle in movements familiar but exceedingly casual, never belying their true purpose.

It is then that the two dark haired men realize there is much more to their clown than they first assumed.

I agree that overactive nerves would tie nicely with his Devil Fruit. Buggy having medical issues that went unknown, undiagnosed, or wasn’t caught early enough would make sense after all if the HC that Buggy was with the Roger Pirates as a baby or even if he wasn’t with them during his infant stage. These are pirates, how are they supposed to know that they need to look for things that could be wrong with the two babies they now have?

I’m sure some of them have things that have went unknown and undiagnosed. Anyway, back to Buggy, I had to look up Ehlers Danlos Syndrome because I didn't know what it was. I agree that it would be nearly impossible to diagnose properly because of no good tech around, as well as the fact he is on a pirate crew, I assume for the most pirate crews they don't stick around island for very long. I HC that Buggy swallowed the Bara Bara Fruit when he was nine.

Poor Buggy, I want to think that more people on the crew understood that Buggy has problems but didn’t how they could help him. Because acting like Buggy was fragile would make Buggy become angry because kid doesn’t want to be treated like that.

Poor Roger, having to watch that without saying anything, with all the other times it happened. Then after he disbanded the crew. Leaving them on Drum Island is a good choice and it makes sense that they didn’t tell the boys (I feel like they don’t tell the boys many things that should of been talked about, but this might be a good thing they didn’t say anything about. But who knows)

I wonder what the series of wacky events were to the meeting between them and Kureha? To me, they seemed like it there in this AU.

I think anyone would lose their shit if they see someone, they really love is getting murdered in front of so many people. I feel that Kureha only let them go because she knew they would go anyway, and this way let’s her give Buggy and Shanks the supplies they need.

I believe that with all the stress and pain of losing someone they hold dear in their hearts. I think Buggy wasn’t in the right mind set nor was Shanks in a way. Anyway, Love that they came back around to talk about it. I think the smoke & mirrors co-captain route they have… or is it more like Buggy and Shanks are allies? They have their own crews, but they still have each.

Then Marineford happened, poor Buggy and Shanks. I hope in this AU that Ace lives, but it was never stated so I don't know.

The idea that Buggy's crew knows about his illnesses/disabilities makes me feel that his followers would say he so strong to overcome them or we just talking about Buggy's crew from East Blue. Then yeah, those folks definitely know about his illnesses/disabilities.

Mihawk and Crocodile coming in without any knowledge and it took a battle to find out. I can see Buggy is nonchalantly about it as Mihawk did a doubletake when he said ‘Pardon?’ Crocodile did a doubletake too, because with those two didn’t know.

Once Crocodile and Mihawk know about what’s going on with Buggy, they see that the signs were always there. It’s just they didn’t paid attention to those signs, but they are.

[windvexer]

This is in reply to a very long ask, which I would prefer to summarize.

As a young child, Anon and their mother left an abusive situation and moved into a new house.

When they moved, Anon began suffering from severe violent and grotesque intrusive thoughts even though they were a young child with no prior exposure to these things.

In order to cope, Anon shut out these thoughts as much as possible.

When Anon moved out of the house, these intrusive thoughts stopped and never returned.

Now, some years later and coming from a more stable place, Anon believes that these intrusive thoughts had a supernatural source. Not from a haunting spirit, but from the home itself.

Anon finishes the ask with: "So I think shutting out spiritual energy has become so deeply ingrained in me that I just can't get a proper practice going. Aside from getting good at warding to fill that role, I was hoping you had some advice on breaking down that barrier a bit?"

Anon, I hope I've correctly summarized your ask. I'm looking at it now on the other half of the screen to respond to what you wrote.

I am not going to comment on mental health issues. As you've said yourself, this is something you've worked through and doubtless you are very aware of the mental and emotional impact such a life transition could have on a young child.

Since I'm not qualified to speak on mental health or self therapy, let's move forward with the assumption that you did experience something supernatural - that something about the house, or within the house, was causing those thoughts.

It's my experience that the scariness of a supernatural event is often unrelated to how "powerful" that event was.

Many people who experience overwhelming negative spiritual contact tend to set out with the point of view that because these events affected them so strongly, that the event must have been caused by a very powerful force.

When I was in my first apartment, there were old hard water stains in the toilet bowl. My room mate scrubbed and scrubbed all day with zero progress, and declared the bowl to be permanently stained.

I went in and dumped some toilet bowl cleaner in, and the stains came out in about five minutes.

Despite all the work, my room mate had failed to use the necessary cleanser to actually resolve the problem.

It's just the same thing with unwanted spiritual contact. People use the wrong tools for the job, and declare the situation hopeless.

But more likely than not, the people who tell me they are struggling with debilitating spiritual symptoms have never tried any act of magic to resolve them, at all.

And more likely than not, the very first ward they try will resolve it.

Supernatural problems may be very difficult to resolve through mundane means, but they tend to be easy to resolve with supernatural means.

In my experience, a vast majority of people experiencing overwhelming spiritual contact can resolve the problem with basic warding.

I know that you're not in that old house any more, but I want to emphasize that dealing with these sorts of problems is really not as difficult as most people think.

You shouldn't set yourself up to think that it will take months of study to craft a serviceable ward, or banishment, or cleansing. Doubtless you could do all of them right now, if you had a decent recipe book in front of you.

I believe you could probably do this even if it was the first spell you had ever cast.

My first piece of advice is to ward pretty well. If you do not want to deal with surprise spirits popping up, I would recommend a pretty heavy-handed ward that limits most spiritual ingress.

This isn't because lots of spirits are guaranteed to appear, although in my experience it can happen to new practitioners. It's just about creating a safe space where you feel confident exploring the things around you.

A personal protection, such as a protective amulet, is also very helpful. For people really worried about spiritual protections, I recommend two; an "everyday use" amulet, and a very "heavy" protection likened to a suit of armor.

Protections need to be maintained. If you want to be a witch, learning how to monitor, feed, and manage ongoing protections is an important skill for beginners. Working with wards is an excellent way to learn this.

You should learn one method of cleansing and one method of banishing. These can both be more mild, "everyday use" sorts of spells. By this I mean you don't have to go nuclear - again, even very mild magical action goes a long way towards resolving supernatural problems.

I recommend this because it is very helpful as a witch to learn that you can control your environment, and start unlearning helplessness towards the vibes.

Many people who have an affinity towards the supernatural become helpless towards the dreary and damaging fogbanks of deleterious energy that settle around people and places. They become helpless because they don't know how to resolve it; it's just there, and it's something they experience, and that's that.

But you don't need to do that, because you have the tools to correct it.

Begin practicing, as often as you have an opportunity to do so, the art of adjusting the vibes. Teach yourself how to cleanse and revitalize spaces so that it's enjoyable to let your guard down and soak up what's around you.

Unlearn any internalization: "ugh, every time I'm in this room I feel terrible, even though I shouldn't. I don't know what's wrong with me." Begin pushing back. Fix spaces. Protect against unsavory people whom you can't avoid.

This undertaking, by and large, will teach you plenty of magic.

You should consider getting reacquainted with your spiritual senses through energy work, not through contacting gods or spirits.

This really eliminates the worry about contacting "something out there," and lets you focus on just playing about with some energies.

It can be danged useful, too. Learning how to shield - even something as ubiquitous and basic as a sphere of white light - can be significantly helpful towards blocking out unwanted supernatural contact.

Try warding your space for peace of mind, and then practicing some of the common energy work exercises: energy balls, grounding roots, cycling energy through the body and earth, breathing energy in and out, raising shields, channeling energy into objects, centering/reclaiming energy, and so on.

If you'd like to work with spirits, try talking to a tree that gives you really good vibes. Trees are often - but not always - remarkably friendly, especially domesticated trees in urban or suburban areas. They also tend to be more talkative than rocks.

You don't need to leave offerings or set up a contact schedule or anything. But if you feel that you're prepared to start reaching beyond yourself, a tree is a decent guy to start talking to.

Magically speaking, some people really have tapped down their own psychism and connections so much, that it becomes an actual blockage.

If you're trying to do magical or psychic work and you can't shake a weird feeling that something is actually in the way, like a boulder blocking the path, then this is of course a magical boulder and should be addressed through magical means.

You can try three things:

The first is personal cleansing of any sort, but especially done with a focus to remove magical blockages and barriers. Be aware that this may need to be done multiple times over a period of weeks, or longer, to take effect. If multiple cleansings are necessary, this is preferable over intense "lightning strike" cleansings that can rip things open.

The second is to give yourself permission. In your original ask you mention being familiar with shadow work, and so perhaps you are familiar with the idea of granting yourself permission or authority to engage in things, which deep down you are nervous of doing.

The third is to build a shrine that honors your own psychism and your own connections. Almost imagine that you are building a shrine to a lost god, forgotten for so long that he's turned to ash and dust. Burn candles, light incense, and give offerings to your own ability to connect. Lovingly tend to it, and treat it as a wayward spirit who now needs to be called home, nurtured, and restored to its rightful throne.