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#and supported her when she wanted to start speaking up (not getting into that)
beeslibrarycorner · 2 days
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Hiii!! I see ur taking request for cooper Lmaoo I love Coop too!! Could you maybe write what cooper is like after reader and him have their first baby (a girl preferably) and maybe a few months after!! Thank youuuu, I’d prefer prewar but if you wanna do headcannon style you can do prewar cooper and a world where ghouls can yk have little ones, all up to you!!
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* Coop stays in the delivery room with you, he doesn’t care if that’s not what men of the time did. He wants to be in there to support you during this huge milestone.
* He sits right next to you and he doesn’t move, even when the doctors and nurses insist that the husband should not be in the room. He doesn’t budge.
* When the contractions start to get real bad he holds your hand talks you through them. He doesn’t care if it hurts with the way you’re squeezing his hand, he knows that’s this is his only purpose right now.
* When you do finally give birth, Cooper allows himself to breathe, your safe and the baby is safe too.
* Cooper is over the moon to find out that the baby is a girl. The doctors kept making comments about getting a son next time to cooper, he was not amused.
* When you finally get home from the hospital he’s there wherever you need him. He helps you with the healing process however he can.
* When the baby wakes up at night he’s there before you, he insists that you need the sleep.
* Cooper compared the first month of having his daughter home to being in the military (in a good way) he had time shifts to check in between his two special girls.
* Watching all the milestones is magical to him. Listening to her laugh and watching her sit up for the first time makes him so proud.
* Tummy time was not just a thing your daughter did. Cooper also participated during tummy time and he would play with the little blocks in front of your daughter.
* Cooper got a kick out of watching his daughter crawl around. Other parents would joke that once she learned to walk it would be the end of both your worlds. (Coop is not amused)
* Speaking of other parents, they kept making comments about how it’s a women’s job to care for the baby and it drives cooper up a wall. He’s always polite when he responds but he hates when people talk to him like he shouldn’t be in his daughter’s life as much as he is.
* When your daughter takes her first steps, cooper feels his heart stop beating for a second. The two of you are on the couch together while your daughter was crawling towards the coffee table. The two of you looked away from her for one second and when you both looked back she was standing with no support and waddling towards you.
* Cooper can’t wait to watch you grow up. He can’t wait to experience all the milestones and be the biggest support.
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jq37 · 2 days
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The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 16
Kipperlilly Copperkettle and the World's Smallest Violin
Welcome back to Fantasy High where everyone’s graduating with A pluses and we’re *finally* figuring out what the hell Kipperlilly’s deal is! 
But, before we get to that, we have some loose ends to tie up. You’ll remember that the Bad Kids just demolished the Last Stand Exam and dropped Gavin Pundle off at the Council of Chosen office in Bastion City. It’s the day before Spring Break so hypothetically they should be relaxing–they don’t have a Spring Break project like everyone else because of the Last Stand–but these are the Bad Kids. They don’t get breaks. 
First order of business when they get back to Elmville is to check the crystal they left recording at the crime scene. They see a massive figure--14 to 15 feet--wearing a hood approaching Buddy with their back to the camera. The stones behind Buddy glow with Ankarna-style light so they check to see if Bakur is escaping the gem he’s trapped in. He isn't but Riz using his spy tie can tell it's def something Ankarna related based on the magical mDNA he's clocking. Based on the footfalls, it seems like something big and humanoid (though not like a tabaxi or dragonborn with their digitigrade feet. Giant is def on the table though).
The figure moves closer to Buddy and Kristen thinks they’re about to slap the symbol on Buddy’s chest but Buddy’s body spasms and blood spatters as his organs seem to crush. He jolts awake with a pained roar and then says in his southern drawl, "Dang, y'all. I worship a nameless god of rage." The figure kneels over Buddy and they both vanish. 
So, yeah. Good call setting up some CCTV. 
Fig right away speculates that maybe all the Rat Grinders died and were brought back to life in that way. Maybe in the Mountains of Chaos, Fabian adds. Kristen points out that KP has been angry since Freshman Year and they all finally get around to digging into the file that Riz stole. Has she always been a follower of Ankarna or was she scouted at some point because of how insanely aggro she is?
Everyone piles on buffs to Riz’s already stupid Investigation score so he gets a 32. I’m going to bullets to organize all of this info:
Her Freshman and Sophomore Year accomplishments are pretty meh. She was doing quests but pretty low level, easy ones
We find out the reason KP hates Riz so much and it’s his tragic backstory. In a meeting at the top of Sophomore Year, they see KP complaining that it’s so unfair that Kalvaxus killed Riz’s dad. She’s too suburban and normal and she hasn’t been able to find any sordid secrets in her lineage that would make for good plot hooks essentially. Her parents went to *Mumple* for Cassandra’s sake! Over the course of Sophomore year she started having rage outbursts. and saying that kids with tragic backstories had an unfair advantage in adventuring and their grades should reflect that. 
She talks about how much she loves her party. The way she speaks, she's def the leader (which we kinda already assumed from the vibes). She seems especially fond of Lucy and says that she's the only one who sort of "gets it". Apparently, KP came up with the name "High 5 Heroes" and Lucy was supportive of that because it meant a lot to KP. Rat Grinders was a name that Ivy and Oisin came up with (they're the other pair of besties in the group which checks out because they were the ones hanging out and playing beer pong together). Ruben voted for the change to piss off KP and Mary Ann voted for it as well and refused to elaborate (on brand). 
In her Junior Year she gets even more unhinged. She talks about wanting to straight up murder Kristen. She thinks Kristen is going for President as a joke and won't even do the job when she's elected. And she he hates Fig for boxing her out from confronting Kristen.   
There's a note that, for Spring Break, they're going to the Mountains of Chaos for the second time. The last time they went was a week or two after Spring Break last year, right before Lucy died. They had a school chaperone because it was too high an adventure for their abilities in the school’s view and no prizes for guessing who that was: Jace Stardiamond. 
As we kind of already know, KP has been gathering Bad Kid info via Jawbone--specifically, stuff about the Prompocalypse/Kalvaxus fight and the Yes! Stuff. These questions are coming Sophomore Year, post the first Mountains of Chaos trip. 
With a dirty 20 Insight, Fig sees that, starting at the end of Soph Year, there's a change in KP's language where it goes from, "I don't think X is fair"/"I think they get special treatment" to just straight up, "I hate them."
The group wonders if Jace is the mastermind here and scoped out which of the students were susceptible to rage poisoning or if maybe he died during that mountain trip and got taken over just as much as everyone else. As far as they know, he was super chill prior to this. 
They take a brief detour to razz Fabian about The Incident in his dance class with some excellent puns and then another brief detour to IRL razz Murph because he makes the grave mistake of saying the phrase, “honor the cock.” And then, Kristen has a brain blast. She wonders if maybe the difference between someone who gets a crystal put in them and comes back as a rage person (eg: Buddy) vs someone who is left in limbo like Yolanda and Lucy is that you get a choice and you can either come back full of rage or refuse and stay dead with the mark on your chest. Brennan doesn't even make Ally roll for it, Kristen just gets it in one. And everyone realizes it makes sense. Yolanda was super principled and Lucy always stuck to her guns according to Ruben. [Note: This also offers a potential reason that Ivy wasn't shocked to see Lucky at the party–maybe she thought she finally took Ankarna’s deal.]
Another list of info just to keep things neat:
They check the tape from the Coliseum and see that there's a ten minute gap between the Bad Kids leaving and the figure coming to rez Buddy so that’s a bit of a timeline established (assuming no chronomancy BS I suppose). 
They also get the thing about digitigrade feet I mentioned earlier at this point but I just thought it fit better with the other tape stuff above. 
Ruben has deleted most of his social media presence from a little bit before last year but they can see from photos where he's tagged with his friends that the emo thing started after spring break of Sophomore Year, confirming what we assumed from his old Yearbook photo. Before that his vibe was more soft rock/folk pop (based on the musician they reffed who I've never heard of but just Googled--Jack Johnson). 
The Bad Kids think they might have to waste yet another Spring Break, this time chasing the Rat Grinders into the Mountains of Chaos, but before that, they have in-town business and downtime to attend to. 
Everyone's parents and guardians are so happy and proud of them for their Last Stand victory. 
Sklonda asks Riz if there's anything she can help with and he asks if she can look into Bobby Dawn. She says  Bobby used to go to Aguefort (info that has come up before according to Brennan though I don't remember it) and asks if Fig knows he's teaching there. It seems like a non sequitur until she reveals (via Emily figuring it out at the table with very impressive swiftness) that Bobby Dawn was at the center of Sandra Lynn's sordid past! For those of y’all who don’t remember, we learned in Sophomore Year that Sandra Lynn joined a party when she was young as a replacement member. There was a married couple in the group who were older and more powerful than her. She fell in love with one of them and when it all came out, she was kicked out and slandered (even though it takes two minimum to tango, as we all know). She was basically blacklisted from adventuring after that which is why she joined the rangers. Well, now we know who that couple was: Bobby and Pamela Dawn! 
Which, ugh what an upgrade Jawbone and honestly even Gilear are from Bobby Dawn.
(Also, as an aside, we learn Pamela is the chief paladin of the church of Sol which, como se dice, yikes. That whole pantheon needs better reps. Tracker is doing all the heavy lifting herself.)
Gavin checks in to say that the Council of Chosen is looking into things but the body is missing. The Bad Kids, who already knew this, share their footage because they have to do EVERYTHING around here. Gavin also lets them know that they’re completely free from academic requirements other than filling out a teacher eval and attending graduation (which is odd considering they aren’t graduating but Aguefort is a weird school and Brennan never went to trad high school so shrug–we’ll see if that’s just a weird Aguefort thing or a something suspicious).
Back to Riz and Sklonda, he asks his mom if she's ever heard of Eugenia Shadow and she tells him that she's a granddaughter of one of the founders of the Society of Shadows (which was named after their last name--it's literal AND a metaphor. She offers to drive him to the cemetery in Ashgrove which is about 90 minutes away. 
Wilma and Digby are exuberant as always about Gorgug's success. They’ve finally fixed up the Hangvan for him and give him the keys. He thanks them and then asks about why Frosty Fair picked their tree as the new event site. They think it's just because they're heavily in the Frosty Fair circuit and also someone (who we know is Ruben) vouched for them. But they mention that the FF reps had a lot of questions about their tree including whether the tree was a Root Warden. They don't have a Druid or Ranger who would know but Kristen gets a Nat 20 (and Cass is a sylvan goddess so it checks out that she would know some stuff about trees). 
A Root Warden is a tree that is so magical that it's a little more alive  than a normal tree (without fully being a treant) and has an Int of like 1 or 2 instead of zero. So it's basically the big, old tree that guards the other trees in the area and tells them when to have their guards up and protects them from general bad mojo. Brennan calls it a sentinel. The Thistlespring tree is the Root Warden for the trees in all of Elmville county.  Gorgug rolls too low to tell if the tree is corrupted but his parents do tell them that the people who came by to check on the tree dropped something into the roots with eye droppers that was absorbed. Everyone is worried about rage pollen, especially since it’s the middle of spring. And once he’s looped in, Riz can see on a map that Loam Farm is significantly outside the tree network that Thislespring tree is a part of. It seems clear that they were trying to make sure they were not only operating within the network but poisoning its very heart. 
Fabian gets a proud message from his dad now that they’re synced up with infernal/material plane communication. Gilear asks Fabian about baby clothes so, naturally, he burns them all. He also gets another 20k gold allowance because his life is full of intense highs and lows and that’s about it. 
Kristen’s parents text her to ask her to make sure Bucky is going to his classes. Suspicious! She agrees to check up on him. 
Aelwyn has accepted the job at Leviathan so she starts coming by the mansion again since there's a door/portal to the library which saves her the spell slot. Adaine tells her she can just come back home if she wants and Sandra Lynn agrees. Aelwyn asks if all her cats can come and everyone says yes, even if it means kicking out Kristen (which is a joke…mostly lol). So yay, Aelwyn is back in the bunk beds baybee! And during the month of my birth irl and in canon. Ty Brennan. Kristen tries to verbally spar with her because she knows Aelwyn is uncomfortable with people being too openly nice to her but Aelwyn accidentally claps back too hard and sends Kristen running back to her room near tears. Sorry, K! She’s working on her people skills! Fig of course has her President’s back and gives Aelwyn a wet willy which majorly grosses her out but she doesn’t sling any retaliatory spells. Progress! 
Gorthalax makes sure that Fig knows he’s always a resource for any help with anything infernal. Meanwhile, Adaine has a couple of spells she wants to cast. She makes a Simulacrum of Kristen, to make it confusing for anyone who wants to go after Kristen. It’s a clone of her with half her HP which is slightly British and slightly straight. She casts Legend Lore on Kipperlilly and gets no info which means she’s a basic ass bitch. (Riz, in comparison, does get a ping but it’s for being the 5th person to summon the Night Yorb so he is keen to do better than that). Finally, she casts Scry on Kipperlilly and doesn't get anything because she has Nondetection casted on her. She realizes that all of the Rat Grinders do at all times which is 18 third level spells a day which is crazy. Clearly, they’re scared. 
Graveyard time! On Saturday, they head to Ashgrove and find the grave of Eugenia Shadow who died at the age of 111. Adaine swaps to Ethereal Vision to try and find her but Riz (with his Blindsense) is the one who finds her (she’s carefully ducking behind Adaine to dodge her line of sight). Eugenia is annoyed to have two students find her in one year but very happy to drink, smoke, and do drugs with the Bad Kids(just go with it). 
Despite being dead, Eugenia knows a lot about stuff that's going on and congratulates them on passing their Last Stand. Riz asks her about what "the Rogue teacher found her" re: Kipperlilly means and Eugenia says that KP somehow found out that she was dead (despite the fact that as far as Shadow knows, the only records of her death exists in Aguefort’s office) and showed up at the grave with a rented backhoe, threatening to dig her up unless she showed basically. Which, yes, is grave desecration and messed up but is it any more messed up than the concept of a rogue in general? Like, I hate KP as much as the next person but this feels like normal rogue behavior. As Eugenia says in this very scene, rogues do crimes! Anyway, Eugenia reiterates something we already knew about Kipperlilly:  that she's obsessed with technicalities and loopholes. We learn for a fact that she's a Mastermind Rogue and Eugenia says that she's a lot like Riz but walking a darker path. 
As they're speculating how KP could have gotten into Aguefort's office (via Jace maybe?) Mazey comes up since she's acting principal and Eugenia reminds them that Aguefort is not a normal school with normal positions. Things are set up so that whoever is VP has to follow whatever the Principal says no matter what since Kalvaxus is supposed to be in that position as a prisoner. Equally importantly, Aguefort is more than a school. It's a hotbed of very important magical threads that Aguefort had going and they'll unravel without someone at the helm. That fact and the fact that killing her would mean chaos and not a simple transfer of power to another party is probably the only reason no one has tried to assassinate her yet. At his friends’ urging, Fabian texts Mazey to hang out, to help keep an eye on her. 
Eugenia tells them to keep their guards up and that she expects to see all of them in Rogue classes next year. She gives Riz an eval form and Fig asks about a Landscaping Company that KP contacted (which I think must be in cut footage because this is the first time it comes up in the ep. Eugenia says that the name of the company is Loam Landscaping which gives everyone pause for obvious reasons. 
Speaking of the Loams, they're on the same death clock as Lucy since it's been a while since they died and Adaine wonders if they can Plane Shift to where they are if they can figure out where that is. Brennan says that the vibe is that Yolanda and Lucy are probably with Cassandra, wherever Cass is. 
Downtime before Spring Break!
Fabian is up first. 
He rolls a 27 for Popularity. People are hoping he's gonna keep up lofi study nights over the summer and they're so psyched that his birthday is the same day as the election (the 31st). Adaine realizes that THIS must be the bday party/election victory she keeps having visions about and tells him he has to do it. For his second track, he asks Mazey out on an official date to Krom's Diner. She says yes and, on a 20, we get a very sweet scene where Fabian has a nice normal date with a genuinely nice, down to earth person.
Even though she's not supposed to play favorites, she tells him that Kristen's basically demolishing Kipperlilly in the election so far (which she is impressed by because she didn't think Kristen was going to take it seriously). She also lets them know that technically any place (including a big house party perhaps) can be a polling place as long as someone from the school admin is present (which could potentially be Mazey or Riz). 
Mazey gives him a goodnight kiss (getting his kisses in!) and we move on to his third roll which he uses to try and mend fences with Kristen for Gertie’s sake. He offers her any satisfaction she wants from an apology to combat and she chooses combat. With a 30 to her 16, he handily defeats her and she considers her honor satisfied. They'll chill now. And he even gives her some tips on flirting with Kristen. Trying to make sure his girl gets her kisses in too I see. 
Corsica and Terpsicore find him to give him eval forms. (Also, on a Nat 20, Fig steals RIz's eval and changes his one negative comment about her doing drugs with her students into a positive one because of course Fig loves her).  He just barely gets his Owlbears roll with a bardic and that's his last roll. 
Adaine is up next. She uses a portent to get a 29 on mystery to learn about the Astral Plane and figures out that when a god is dead in the Astral Plane there's still some level of intelligence, like how a mortal can die but then have Speak With Dead cast on them and answer questions. She also finds some weird linguistic trickery in a passage about how where gods die, where they go, and where they're borne--not born, borne as in carried. Imagine the laws of the universe hinging on a pun. Wild. They wonder if that's what Bakur was trying to do/if the proper location would have been the Mountains of Chaos.
Brennan also says she gets some interesting stuff about the Mountains of Chaos and its history and is left with the question of, "When Ankarna was said to have 'died' in the Red Waste, what does that mean?" Adaine decides to roll to learn some spells to help her party survive in the Astral Plane if they need to go and on a 29 spell she learns one new spell of each level. She also talks to her teacher (Tiberia Runsetaff) who, in addition to giving her an eval to do, says she's been talking to Aguefort (Chronomancy) and when she mentioned that she was having problem getting supplies for wizarding, Ayda left her a geocache. Runestaff gives Adaine the coordinates and she texts Fig so they can go together because she assumes Ayda left stuff for both of them.
Next, she wants to roll Relationships and throws an ice cream party for the whole manor which everyone really enjoys. She chats with Sandra Lynn who tells her that the Mountains of Chaos have been nuts lately and social animals like wolves have been killing members of their own packs as of the last few weeks. That sounds very rage-y to Adaine so she tells Sandra Lynn everything they know (except for the Bobby Dawn stuff so Fig can be the one to break the news). 
Adaine asks if Sandra Lynn will take them to the mountains since she knows the area so well from work and Sandra Lynn says they might have to sign some liability waivers but she's down as long as her bosses are down. They also have a very sweet conversation where Adaine says she’s very grateful to them for taking her in and she admits that she's not very good at being a kid. Sandra Lynn says that she's always available for any conversations that Adaine wanted to have with a mom and couldn't (on account of her mom being a raging bitch and also being chased by the Vands of course). Adaine thinks she's about to give her a talk on periods and dashes away, much to Sandra Lynn's bafflement. 
Fig does her evals for her teachers including Lucilla who is weeping over her not remembering her name and just calling her "Attractive bard teacher", Porter who is irked to be sharing a sheet with Zara, and Zara who wants to see Fig because she send her a flap of flayed skin with writing on it (the contract from Bill). Valid concern. 
Adaine wraps up her downtime by rolling to Scry on Jace and gives him a 1 to make sure he fails. She sees him sitting quietly working in his office where he's Fantasy Googling the Complicated Women podcast. Adaine doesn't see what else he's working on with a low Luck roll but on a 17 Perception, she sees that he's starting to sweat in his toasty office. He takes off his scarf and, as he does, she catches a glimpse of him in the mirror, revealing a deep ragged scar in his chest. He looks at the scar and, for a moment, his eyes flash red. 
Detention
Kipperlilly for All Of That
Girl are you KIDDING ME?
“Oh boo hoo. Riz is so lucky. School is so easy for him because he has a dead dad to avenge. Some people have all the luck.”
Man, kick rocks. And she was like that *before* she got involved with Ankarna. 
Also, sidenote, it’s not even like Riz ended up killing Kalvaxus because of his tragic backstory. He didn’t even know there was a connection going in. He just wanted to find his missing babysitter and the other missing girls! You’re a Mastermind Rogue. You want a plot hook? Nancy Drew it up, bitch!   
You want Kristen dead? You want her DEAD? You’re jealous of Riz who lives in a household where sometimes you have to eat your cereal with water because there’s not enough milk to go around? Truly, get a grip.
Honor Roll
Kristen for Making a Clutch Connection
This should really go to Ally but yeah. What a great leap figuring out that staying dead is an option and that’s most likely what happened to Yolanda and Lucy. 
This very likely explains a longstanding loose end from much earlier in the season. Ivy didn’t look shocked to see “Lucy” (Fig in disguise) at the party even though we know she was dead. With this new info, it seems likely that Ivy assumed that Lucy had finally given in and come back as a rage acolyte. 
Anyway, baller connection and she got there before I did. I love it when Brennan is so impressed he doesn't even ask for an Insight roll. 
Random Thoughts
Here is a super useful timeline of events Re: the Ratgrinders by @ratgrinders. 
I’ve seen a lot of people assume that the RG’s died in the Mountains of Chaos but I’m not convinced that happened. Because that was way before Lucy died and we know that once she died, she refused to come back as a rage person. And we know you can take a rage crystal without having to die first. That happened in the mall fight with the wizards. If they TPK’d there and Ankara offered to bring them back, then they would have come back without Lucy because she would have said no.
Here’s my current theory: They went to the mountains with Jace. They either stumbled into information about Ankarna or were led there by Jace if he’s proper evil and not just taken over. They were offered a deal and everyone went for it but Lucy. KP really wanted Lucy to join them–esp cause she considered Lucy her best friend. She tried to strong arm her into it (maybe even forging her god change form) and, when she stuck to her guns, she organized everyone to kill Lucy, forcing her into a position where she’d have to say yes to Ankarna in order to stay alive. In KP’s head, Lucy would do this and maybe be annoyed for a bit but in the end see it was for the best and forgive her–maybe even thank her. But she miscalculated the strength of Lucy’s conviction and voila. Dead Lucy. 
Edit: Wanted to come back and edit to note that it is of course possible that in the mountains everyone died except for Lucy and that's when they took the Ankarna deal, but even if that's the case, the rest of the theory would proceed as written. I was mainly thinking that while what we saw with Buddy is a strong possibility it's not the only possibility. If they died then they're a bit more sympathetic because self preservation is an understandable motivator and taking the deal doesn't make them craven--it just makes Lucy and Yolanda extremely principled. However if they just took the deal because it was offered to them then that's more eyebrow raising. Even though I'm skeptical, I'm kinda hoping their hands were forced because I think that's more interesting and we've had straight up petty power grabbing already from Penelope. But anyway, just being thorough.
"Flash of Stupidity” is so funny. 
It's not surprising that Ivy and Oisin are one of the pairs of besties in the RG's--they were introduced playing beer pong together--but I'm super curious about what their dynamic is. And ditto for Lucy and KP. Was it like a high strung one/chilled out one kind of thing? I really wish the Bad Kids had been a bit nosier about their whole deal.
Do we think KP maybe wanted to make sure the BK's died in the last stand alongside Buddy and Pundle so they'd all come back as rage people? Maybe that crossbow bolt was laced with some rage mojo?
KP being mad at Riz for trying to pickpocket Jawbone of her file when (1) she’s literally a rogue as well and (2) she pickpocketed Kristen and Buddy of their revivify diamonds is insane. 
I love Lou committing to the bit of being appalled at the thought of half-siblings via Gilear because I know he knows that every time he explodes it becomes even funnier which means it’s more likely to happen but he can’t stop because he’s Committed To The Bit. Classic Lou. 
Wizards casting Legend Lore on themselves as the in-universe equivalent of Googling yourself. 
I love the detail that Mazey’s family lives in a Labyrinth in the Red Wastes. 
Kinda bummed we didn’t get to do more with the Relationship track so the special ability never came up and Brennan had to just reveal it (it can reduce stress but also increase it). 
I am so stressed about the bylaws and also Bucky. They keep coming up and then falling off of everyones’ plates and we’re running out of runway here. 
Adaine really said, “You didn’t just kill your parents? Skill issue.” She really is Aelwyn’s sister. 
The VP has to do anything the Principal says, right? And Mazey is the Principal, right? There’s gotta be a way to exploit that, especially now that Fabian is in her good graces.
When did Aelwyn get FIVE MORE CATS?
Answered and Partially Answered Questions
Last week I made as thorough a list as I could about what info we were missing and I wanted to note the answers we got this week. 
1) Why the move to Loam Farm for Frosty Faire? (The Thistlespring tree is a Rootwarden) 
2) How is Jace involved? Why is he manipulating Ruben? (We know Jace went w/ them on the trip but that's not a full answer) 
3) What were the exact circumstances behind Lucy’s death? Who was able to put the rune on both of their bodies and what exactly was the goal there? (We know the mark is from getting a rage crystal but rejecting it but we don't officially know who did it or what the goal was though you know my guess.) 
4) How did KP find the rogue teacher? (Threatened to dig up her grave. Info that she was dead was only in Aguefort's office so maybe got that from Jace?) 
5) Also what’s her damage? Why is she obsessed with Riz? What are her anger issues about? (She's a petty basic bitch) 
6) Why wasn’t Ivy surprised to see Fig in disguise as Lucy who was at the time fully dead? (Most likely because she thought she finally chose rage zombie resurrection) 
7) What’s up with the party vision that Adaine has now had at least twice? (We know this is election night and Fabian's bday now) 
8) What made the Rat Grinders become the Rat Grinders when they started as the High Five Heroes? (We know it was a vote led by Ivy and Oisin and joined by Ruben and Mary Ann but not the why behind it) 
9) Where exactly is Cass right now? (We still don't know for sure but it seemed like a realm within Ankarna’s dead body which is prob in the Astral Plane. We do know Lucy and Yolanda are prob with her as of this ep.)
As an aside, we still don’t know how Oblivati Mori was broken to write Ankarna’s name before the Bad Kids found it but is it possible that the person who wrote it was Ankarna herself? Because Ankarna is still “dead” right now, right? Because she’s been active all the same. Oblivati Mori disallows others from speaking your name but does it disallow the god themselves from speaking or writing their name if mortals find them somehow? Kind of a stretch but I’m wondering if there’s enough wiggle room there to make something happen, especially since this episode Brennan said that gods retain some intelligence even when they’re dead on Adaine’s high roll. I dunno, just spitballing. 
(Also, I don’t remember where I saw this but remember how Aelwyn said KP is randomly loaded? The previous best guess on that was money from Oisin–the boy who was just gonna give Adaine diamonds–but is it possible that she’s spending the embezzled Frosty Fair money? We don’t know much much it was so hard to say if it was enough to be funding whatever this is. But wanted to throw that out there since we’re tying loose ends as much as we can.)
Anyway, can’t wait for next episode which I’ve been told will be more than THREE HOURS LONG and Brennan said in the AP that it’s gonna be a doozy. Excited, trepid, and preemptively bracing for another long haul review. See you then!
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Sorry this ask turned into an essay — as I explain I have a personal connection to this topic and a lot of thoughts on it, ha
On the topic of Taylor’s discussion of Joe’s depression — I have never seen anyone claim that she has made fun of it, but I have seen some discussions from people who feel that she’s been unfair or insensitive with how she’s spoken about it, or that she broke up with him because he was “too depressed” and that she was blaming him for things he can’t control. Renegade has been used as an example of this, and more recently So Long London (specifically “you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days).
I don’t want to speak for anyone but myself here or invalidate anyone’s feelings of hurt with how Taylor addresses these topics (because that is entirely fair to be hurt by if you interpret it in that way), but I will say this: as someone who has been on both sides of this equation (I have clinical depression that I’m in the process of getting medication for, and I’ve also had multiple relationships with people who were going through severe mental health struggles that I was trying to support them through), I don’t think that the way Taylor has referenced Joe’s depression affecting her in her music seems cruel to him. I’ve never gotten the impression that she is blaming him for struggling or that she expected him to just stop struggling and get better, or even that that’s the reason their relationship ended. I think there’s a lot of frustration in those songs, and while I understand why some may balk at that, it can be really frustrating at times to love someone who doesn’t love themselves, or who is pushing you away at every turn. It’s not their fault, and I don’t think Taylor is framing it as such, but that can make it even more frustrating when it feels like things are breaking down and there is nothing you can do to fix it.
And I feel like it’s kind of taboo to talk about those feelings because (in my experience at least) they’re wrapped up in so much guilt? I was in a relationship very similar to the one described in Renegade once, and I would get into this cycle where my partner would be struggling, I would try to help them, they would push me away and/or say things that would really hurt me, I would feel upset and hurt, but then feel so guilty for being upset and hurt because I knew they didn’t mean it the way it felt and that this wasn’t about me, so I would just keep those feelings to myself and say nothing, and it would start all over again. These aren’t pretty emotions at all, and I fully understand why some people are hurt by the way Taylor talks about them, but I think there’s a big difference between “I’m frustrated because my partner is struggling and I feel like I’m giving them everything I have but nothing ever changes and it’s hurting me” and “my partner is too depressed to deal with, why won’t they just get over it?”
I’ve had loved ones tell me tell me to just stop being depressed before — I know that hurt very well, and at least to me, this feels different. Honestly I really appreciate songs like Renegade and So Long London because hearing someone else talk about that experience has made me feel less like I was some uniquely horrible person incapable of being the perfect supporting partner that I should have been. I think it’s just a shitty, frustrating situation where no one is solely to blame, and I think that’s how Taylor presents it.
But again, this is just my opinion — I can totally see how and why people might interpret them differently and feel hurt by them, and I don’t want to speak over those feelings at all
Hi friend! First of all tysm for being so open and honest about your personal struggles with both yourself and past relationships - I'm grateful you feel you can be safe here talking about that. And secondly in your grace and empathy in understanding the many potential sticky layers of feeling here and how this might be ruffly and uncomfortable for people. I love that so much.
My interpretation has always very much been in alignment with yours. And I think if this album was seeking to do any one thing it was to wield honesty like a blunt force instrument - even and especially when the truth is uncomfortable and can be alienating. I've never once interpreted her documentation of a partner's mental health struggles as "get over it" (is there anyone who better understands how fucking hard it is to get over literally anything than Taylor?). But I feel the line that haunts me most is, "I gave you all my best me's / My endless empathy / And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier". And the uncomfortable truth is that it is so incredibly painful to be in love with someone who doesn't love themselves and who has proven (despite years of begging and pleading and patience and kindness) that they are not interested in becoming someone who can love you better. And it's unfair and shitty and horrible to have your "spine split from carrying [both of you] up the hill" for years. You feel sad for them. You feel sad for you. You feel sad that you feel sad. And then you feel mad that they are making you sad. And and and.
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I Will be Here, Don't You Cry - 4,971 Words
Two fics in one day?! She must have written this instead of doing any work...
Set after the reunion in A Different Approach. This is a Hunter and Omega father-daughter fluff/hurt/comfort fest!
This is pretty much canon compliant, however there is an AU time-hop to the end of Season 3 at the end.
As always, the link to my AO3 is here and the link to my masterlist on tumblr is here.
Thank you so much for reading and for your support! I really appreciate it!
--------
In hindsight, Hunter should have checked her over before she went to sleep; that had been his first mistake.
Omega had clung to Hunter’s side, still sniffling as they walked back towards the Marauder. Hunter had wanted to bask in the warmth of having her back for longer, but realistically he knew that they needed to leave before the Empire managed to track the ship Crosshair and Omega had arrived in. 
Speaking of Crosshair…
The clone had been silent since disembarking the cargo shuttle. He had walked back over to his siblings, trying not to break his cold expression on his approach. Hunter had looked him up and down, nodding his thanks. 
After all, despite their differences, he had brought Omega home.
Once on board the ship, it dawned on Hunter that Crosshair hadn’t seen it since they had converted the gunner’s mount to Omega’s room… and they had kept her room almost exactly as it had been left.
This was mostly down to the fact that Hunter hadn’t been able to stomach going anywhere the gunner’s mount during the little girl’s absence. It held too many memories of laughter and smiles and bedtime stories. Even when they had needed the ship’s canons, it had been Wrecker who’d had to enter the turret.
Glancing down to where Omega still had her arms wrapped around one of his, he couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelmingly warm feeling that filled him. Despite it all, she had made it back to them. Back to him.
He choked back his emotion, clearing his throat before asking Wrecker to start up the engines. Crosshair glanced silently around the cabin before his eyes fixed on something. He inhaled sharply, his face pinching in pain. Hunter followed his brother’s gaze and his heart ached when he saw Tech’s smashed goggles still sat on the shelf. Another thing he hadn’t been able to go near. The pain the goggles held still egged down on the sergeant, and he made a point of crouching down in front of Omega.
“You hungry, kid?” he asked as the ship began to power up. Almost on cue, Omega’s stomach grumbled and she laughed shyly before nodding.
“I guess I am,” she admitted. “It’s been a while since we’ve eaten… we just wanted to get back to you.”
Hunter nodded, sending Crosshair a questioning glance. The sniper frowned, but his face softened slightly when Omega turned to him with one of her disarming smiles. 
“Batcher needs something too,” he commented, not unkindly. Hunter looked down at the hound, nodding at his brother’s comment.
“We might have something she can eat,” he replied. The conversation was short. Sharp. Tense.
Hunter supposed he should count himself lucky that Crosshair had spoken to him at all… though had he really been speaking to Omega? Who knew… hopefully that would clear up with time.
Wrecker guided the ship into hyperspace before setting the controls to autopilot and spinning around in his chair. The cockpit was still empty apart from him and his heart sank slightly at that; he was happy to have Omega back, thrilled even. The little girl lit up every room she entered and he couldn’t wait for things to go back to how they were… or sort of how they were. Wrecker supposed things would never be the same now that Tech was gone.
Maybe Crosshair would re-join them? He wouldn’t go back to the Empire, not after spending time imprisoned there. Wrecker had missed his brother. He was the only one who would admit it, but he was secretly glad that the sniper was back with them. Hunter was suspicious, Wrecker could tell, but then Hunter had been going crazy ever since Omega had disappeared.
Wrecker had been forced to sedate him once just to get him to rest. Hunter had taken a hint after that.
Sighing, Wrecker stood from his seat and exited the cockpit. He was met by an almost surreal sight upon entering the cabin.
Hunter was sat at the navi-computer, a ration bar in his hand; that filled Wrecker with relief. He hadn’t failed to notice the weight his brother had lost in the past six months (another thing he had constantly nagged him about). As it turned out, Omega had noticed too. She nibbled on her own ration bar, tear tracks clear on her face, glancing up at Hunter every now and then to make sure that her brother (father?) was in fact eating. 
Crosshair was slumped in a chair further back and it became clear quite quickly that Hunter had given him two ration bars. Wrecker didn’t blame him, Crosshair looked as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks… maybe he hadn’t. Who were they to know?
The hound… Batcher, sat curled up at Crosshair’s feet and occasionally the sniper would reach down and scratch her ears. He always had been soft when it came to animals (not that he would ever admit it).
The group sat in silence, and it weighed heavily on all of them. Ration bars eaten, Hunter turned to Omega once more. 
“Fancy the ‘fresher?” he asked, taking in her mud-stained face and dirty hair. She nodded, hissing as she stood and stretched. As she headed to the ‘fresher, she paused suddenly.
“I won’t have any clean clothes that fit,” she muttered, almost embarrassed. Hunter cringed. How could he have forgotten? Standing as well, he went to his bunk before rummaging around in his crate. Before long he fond what he was looking for and pulled it out.
“These’ll be on the big side, but they’re clean and warm,” he offered out a pair of his old blacks from when he was a cadet. Omega’s face lit up at the sight of them and she grabbed them before thanking him quickly and rushing into the ‘fresher. Before long the sound of water hissing through the pipes could be heard.
The silence that enveloped the three brothers now that Omega was gone felt even worse than before. Wrecker glanced as Hunter busied himself once more with the navi-computer; Crosshair made a point of looking around the ship, taking every tiny change since he had last been on board. 
Their silence went on this way until the ‘fresher door hissed open once more and Omega bounded out.
She looked exhausted to put it lightly. Now that the dirt was gone from her face you could make out the dark circles under her eyes. When was the last time she had slept? Hunter mused to himself. He pushed that thought to one side as he glanced over at Crosshair.
“Your turn, if you want,” he said shortly. The sniper nodded curtly before standing and making his own way into the ‘fresher. He swooped by his old crate on the way and grabbed a set of blacks. He had no armour to wear with them currently, but anything would be better than the prison uniform and stolen clothes from Lau.
All of a sudden, Omega let out a loud yawn, making both Hunter and Wrecker chuckle. 
“Bed time?” the sergeant suggested with a fond smile that he only ever reserved for her. She nodded, though their was an air of reluctance about her as she padded over to the gunner’s mount and started to climb the ladder. She turned froze in her tracks before scuttling back down and running over to Wrecker. She wrapped him in a quick hug, which he returned, before making her way to Hunter. Wrapping her arms around him as well, she mumbled something into his middle that only he could hear.
“Of course,” he replied, following her as she made her way back to the tower. Omega seemed more relaxed this time, scaling the ladder and clambering into her bedroll. Hunter climbed after her, perching on the edge of the gunner’s mount and reaching over to turn on the string of lights. Wrecker couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he shifted out of his seat and back into the cockpit. He could give the pair a little bit of privacy he supposed.
Hunter pulled Omega’s blanket up to her chin like he had done six months ago, before before everything had gone so horribly wrong. She smiled like she had done then, shuffling further into the blankets and holding Lula and Trooper close. 
“Glad to have you back, kid,” Hunter eventually said, cursing internally as he heard his voice croak. Omega’s eyes filled with tears once more, but she smiled a watery smile.
“I don’t want to wake up and this all be a dream,” she whispered, a hint of fear in her voice; it broke Hunter’s heart that even though she was far away from wherever she was held captive, it was still haunting her. 
“You don’t need to worry about going back there,” he soothed. “You’re back and we’re going home. That’s all we need to think about right now.” The sergeant stifled a yawn of his own, making Omega giggle.
“Maybe you should be getting sleep too,” she commented slyly. So her sense of humour had returned… that was a relief. 
“Maybe I will,” Hunter replied, pulling  face that made Omega giggle even more. She yawned all of a sudden, her eyes drooping as exhaustion took over again. 
In a moment of bravery, Hunter swooped down and pressed a gentle kiss against Omega’s forehead. 
“Missed ya, kid,” he said quietly as he began to climb back down the ladder. “Sleep well.”
Once he reached the bottom of the ladder, he reached up and turned the string of lights off before shutting the curtain to the gunner’s mount. Omega shuffled quietly before all movement stopped and her breathing began to even out. Within minutes she was sound asleep.
Hunter perched on his bunk, pondering over his own exhaustion; he wasn’t entirely sure when he last slept. Even though Wrecker was constantly nagging him and he tried his best to rest, sleeping had not come easily during Omega’s absence. Perhaps knowing that she was back and safe would help him relax, he pondered as he felt his eyes grow heavy. 
Maybe he should stay awake just in case she needed him, he absently thought as his head began to feel warm and fuzzy, sleep inviting him in.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for him to fall asleep, but he was out cold and enjoying a dreamless sleep before too long.
——
Shuffling was the sound that woke him, and he shouldn’t have been surprised really. The Marauder had gone from having only two people on it to having five occupants, of course noise was going to be the thing that woke him up.
Hunter’s head felt foggy and if he didn’t know better, he’d think that he was hungover; realistically he knew that he only felt this way because he had been in a deep sleep after not resting for too long. He had every intention of rolling over and going back to sleep when another sound entered his consciousness.
A sniffle.
Who was crying? Now alert, the clone sat up as quietly as possible. If someone was upset he didn’t want to startle them. Hunter glanced around the dark cabin, glad for his enhanced sight as he did so. Crosshair was the first person he thought of, always one to hide his emotions until he was out from everyone’s watchful gaze. He glanced across at the sniper and was surprised to see him out cold, snoring lightly. He imagined this was the comfiest he had been in a long time, the safest he had felt in a long time… he was probably making the most of it. 
Batcher was curled up underneath Crosshair’s bunk, also breathing heavily; of course Omega had managed to gain a put dog during her time imprisoned. Hunter didn’t really know why he was surprised. 
He could also hear Wrecker’s familiar snores, which ruled out his other brother as the source of the crying sounds… which only left one person.
“Omega?” he whispered as he quietly climbed out of his bunk and padded across the cabin. He paused before pulling back the curtain, not wanting to intrude on her privacy. Another sniffle, frustrated and desperate made him forget privacy and he pulled the curtain to one side.
The little girl in question was indeed the one crying; she had fresh tear tracks on her face and a scowl across her features. Hunter glanced down at what she was holding, raising an eyebrow when he spotted her hair tie and… her hairbrush. Only her hairbrush was broken, a couple of the teeth missing. 
Omega almost looked a little betrayed when she spotted Hunter, but that look left her quickly as her shoulders sagged and a small sob left her. He had been quick to react, taking in the whole situation quickly. Hunter lay two gentle hands over hers, prying the brush and the hair tie out of them.
“Having problems with your hair?” he asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. Judging from the broken brush and the scraggly dead hair still attached to the hair tie, she was having more than just ‘problems’ with he hair. She nodded, the offending hair falling around her face as she did so. 
“It hurts to brush…” she trailed off in an ashamed whisper. “I thought I could just deal with it but the brush got stuck and I pulled it too hard.” Reaching back into her hair, Hunter could tell she was trying to find the missing teeth from the brush. “And then it broke,” she finished, her eyes filling with tears once more as she began to sniffle again.
Anger coarse through Hunter. He had spent time training Omega on how to look after he hair when she had been with them before, and it seemed as though she had just been neglected and handed a hair tie when she was dumped on Tantiss. 
He didn’t let his anger show though, as he offered his arms out she she barrelled into them; he took a small step back to steady himself but caught her and gently pulled her down from the gunner’s mount. With her still in his arms, he carried her quietly through to the cockpit. 
Once there, he set her down on one of the chairs. Crouching in front of her like he had when he promised she was never going back to Kamino, he held the sides of the chair and smiled reassuringly at her.
“Want my help?” he asked gently; he wasn’t going to push her into it, but he wanted to help her if he could… and hair was sort of one of his areas of expertise.
Thankfully, Omega nodded, and Hunter nodded before standing and setting to work find what he needed.
He could feel Omega’s eyes on him as he moved around the cockpit, looking for various things that would help him. Eventually he sat down in the chair opposite hers, comb, brush and spray bottle in hand. He gestured for her to turn around in her seat, and eventually she was sat facing the back of the chair. The sergeant examined the back of her head without touching it at first, not wanting to cause her more discomfort than he had to…
… he quickly realised that he had a long job ahead of him.
The top layer of Omega’s hair looked relatively well brushed, even if it had only been with her fingers, but when that was moved to one side, a clump about the size of his fist rested at the nape of her neck where her ponytail had been. 
Hunter breathed in slowly, trying not to let on how angry he was at her captors. Taking the clump in his hand, he examined it; it was made up of matted knots, dead hair, dead skin, what looked like leaves and twigs and… the missing teeth of the hairbrush.
“Who did your hair on Tantiss?” he asked gently as he set down his tools and picked up the spray bottle. 
“No one,” came the meek reply. “I tried to brush it with my fingers… but that only worked for so long. When it started getting too long, Emerie gave me a hair tie.”
Hunter made a mental note to ask about this Emerie later, but for now he turned his focus back to the task at hand. Once her hair was suitably wet, he put the spray bottle down and picked up the comb. As gently as possible he started to tease the knots out of the bottom of the clump, hoping that he didn’t pull out too much of her hair in the process.
Occasionally Omega would hiss in pain and Hunter would mutter an apology and offer her a break, but other than that the pair sat in comfortable silence as the night wore on. It wasn’t until it was nearly the third hour of Hunter working on her hair that she quietly piped up.
“You look tired,” she commented softly, playing with her hands as they lay in her lap. Hunter froze for a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for the little girl to notice. “You’ve been sleeping, right?”
Kriff, how was this kid so perceptive? Hunter considered how to respond before he realised that he’d left it too long and needed to think of something to say that wouldn’t worry her…
“It was… difficult to relax properly when we were trying to figure out where you were,” he eventually admitted, and Omega’s shoulders tensed. 
That was an understatement, really. The truth was that Hunter had driven himself to the brink of exhaustion more times than he was comfortable with and Wrecker had been forced to sedate him at one point. He hadn’t been proud of that moment. 
Now that he thought about it, he’d been acting like a mad man over the past six months, driven to crazy, risky actions by his grief and guilt. He really needed to apologise to Wrecker, who had bore the brunt of his pain-riddled temper. He could think of countless moments where he had dragged them into crazy plans that would have almost certainly ended in death had it not been for Wrecker’s sensible thinking. 
Omega didn’t say anything for a while, almost seeming to sense his guilt. Just when Hunter thought that she wasn’t going to say anything else at all, she suddenly spoke again.
“You should get some sleep,” she replied lightly, but he could hear the worry in her voice. He almost laughed; he should be the one worrying about her, not the other way around. 
“I will once we’re back on Pabu,” he responded, only for Omega’s shoulders to tense up again. She wiggled her head away from Hunter’s grasp and turned to face her brother.
“You need to sleep.” she had a frown on her face now, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. Hunter knew that face; that was the face he used to use to get her to go to bed.
“Omega…” he sighed, resting his arms down by his sides. Sure he had been dead to the world before her crying had woken him, but he had been due a power nap. Now he’d probably be able to stay awake all the way through the rest of their journey. 
The little girl wasn’t having any of that, it seemed. 
“You’re going to sleep as soon as we’re done here.” It was an order, not a suggestion and the child nodded before turning around once more and allowing him to resume his work.
“Sir, yes sir,” Hunter grumbled as he picked up the comb once more.
——
An hour or so later, and Hunter was working through the last of the knots. Omegas’ hair would need another wash and brush in the morning, but it shouldn’t be anywhere near as difficult or lengthy a process. 
“You’re all good, kid,” he said; his voice croaked slightly with exhaustion and his eyes felt heavy again. Maybe a kip would do him some good…
… there was no response from Omega, and Hunter realised that she had dozed off in the chair as he’d been brushing her hair. He sighed and tried to gently manoeuvre her out of the position, only for her to suddenly yelp and start thrashing.
“NO!” she cried, eyes snapping open, but not focusing. “I won’t go back there! Hunter!” Omega collapsed in a heap as Hunter tried grasp her before she hit the floor. Taking a few shuddering breaths, she seemed to realise just where she was and glanced around the cockpit of the ship. Upon spotting Hunter, she lunged for him wrapping her trembling arms around him and refusing to let him go. He was forced to crouch down to her level, joining her on the floor of the cockpit as he held her close; she clambered into his lap allowing him to wrap his arms around her fully and whisper soothing words into her hair.
Eventually, when her breathing had evened out a little more, he glanced down at the child. She was clinging to his blacks, her head nestled into his chest in a way that he’d never really held her before. Sure, she’d given him hugs that he’d awkwardly tried to return in the past but this new sense of closeness was alien to him. Alien and yet it felt as though it should have been this way all along. 
“I don’t want this to be fake,” she whispered hoarsely. “I don’t want to wake up and be back there and be faced with another day in that place.”
Hunter nodded before resting his chin on the top of her head. 
“You’re safe, ad’ika,” he replied. He’d learned the term from Tech, who had teased him once about how Omega had seemed more like a daughter than a sister.
Omega froze in his embrace and glanced up at him. She knew what it meant, clearly, from the look in her eyes. They shone with yet more unshed tears but instead of a sad look on her face, the ghost of a smile crossed her features.
“You really mean that?” she asked. Hunter blanched, but nodded, trying to remain calm. People had always mistaken him for Omega’s father and he had spent so long denying that he was… it had only been since her disappearance that he had come to terms with the fact:
Omega was his kid.
There was no denying it now, the girl knew what he thought and now all he had to do was wait for her rejection. What was he thinking? He couldn’t be a father to her, he couldn’t promise to keep her safe when he’d lost her.
He was drawn out of his spiral by arms being thrown around his neck.
“I’m glad you do,” she whispered just loudly enough for him to hear, and Hunter found that he was having to blink back tears. Omega pulled away from the hug and smiled at him before a large yawn practically split her face in two. Hunter chuckled.
“Tired?” he asked, and she nodded, though a look of fear passed over her face. Hunter frowned; he never wanted to see his little girl look scared again if he could help it.
“Omega?” he asked, concern laving his voice. The child chewed her bottom lip nervously.
“I…” she trailed off, running her hand through he newly brushed hair. “I don’t want to be on my own,” she said quietly, looking a little embarrassed. Hunter nodded and briefly paused before scooping her up and carrying her back into the cabin. He set her down on his bunk gently before crouching down and putting the hairbrush and spray bottle away.
“You could always stay her tonight?” he suggested, glancing up at his kid. She nodded keenly before shuffling back on the bunk and pressing herself against the wall of the cabin. Hunter ditched the last of his armour before clambering into the bunk himself, pulling the blankets over them both.
The pair shuffled for a moment, adjusting to sharing a bunk designed for one person, but before long Omega was cuddled against her father figure, a handful of his blacks clutched tightly in her grip. Her breathing began to slow as she eased into a (hopefully) deep sleep, but before she did she whispered something just you enough for Hunter to hear.
“Night, buir.”
So Tech had been teaching Omega some Mando’a too, it seemed. Hunter’s breath caught in his throat as he heard the term, but smiled at the warmth that spread through him
“G’night, ad’ika.”
He knew in that moment, that as long as he had his little girl, he could face down anything else that happened to their family unit. Anything at all. 
——
Weeks later, he was sore and exhausted as he searched the rubble of Tantiss, desperately searching for signs of Omega. The last thing any of them had been expecting was for the Zillo beast to break loose and collapse the mountain-base. It had made swift work of the labs before running off in search of more chaos to cause… leaving the survivors to search the rubble. 
Echo had caught up with them not long ago, battered and bruised but very much alive. He had dragged a bedraggled scientist with him (Hunter learned that this was Emerie), claiming that the pair of them had been trying to free Omega and the other children (others?!) in the vault before the chaos had begun.
The squad were frantically pulling apart the rubble in search of any sign that the children were alive when Emerie let out a pained gasp. Hunter’s head shot up and he ran over to where the woman was standing. 
In her hands she was holding what he could only describe as a straw version of Lula, dirty and coming apart… 
“This belonged to Eva,” Emerie stammered as she looked around. Hunter realised that this must be one of the children’s names. If Eva was buried under this pile of rubble, maybe Omega could be too. The pair of them crouched and began to dig at the rubble that surrounded the area. Hunter could feel the tears filling his eyes as they got deeper. What if she wasn’t here? What if, after only just realising that he was in fact Omega’s father, he was going to have that ripped away from him?
“Buir!”
Hunter’s head shot up. He yanked his helmet off, looking around as he tried to place the voice. Suddenly, there she was. She was filthy, covered from head to toe in dust and dirt, but she was grinning as though she had just won a prize. 
He wasted no time running towards her, vaguely registering the other children that she was stood with. They looked a little startled as Hunter swept Omega into his arms and held her close.
He burst into tears as he held her, gripping onto her like his life depended on it. 
“Omega,” he uttered through ragged breaths, relishing in the fact that his little girl held him close. 
“Buir,” she replied softly, her own voice thick with emotion. He set her down before holding her at arm’s length and checking her over.
“Are you okay?” he asked almost frantically, looking her up and down. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
She shook her head, tears still streaming down her cheeks. This reminded him so much of when she had found them the first time around. 
“It’s over,” she choked out, and Hunter nodded, glancing at the rubble around them. 
“It’s over,” he soothed as he pulled her back into a hug.
——
The Marauder was gone. A new ship had taken it’s place, provided by Rex and his men as they turned up to evacuate the Batch, Emerie, the children and any surviving clones. Hunter and Emerie had both agreed to help the children find their homes again, seeing as Eva and Sami couldn’t recall their home planets (they had been so young when they’d been taken) and Jax knew the planet name but couldn’t remember the town. Barryn had no way of communicating his home planet, which presented its own challenge. 
The Firebird, their new ship, was… very full at the moment. It had two bunk rooms, unlike the Marauder, and one of those had been allocated to the kids whilst they were staying on board. The other was slept in by Hunter and his brothers. Emerie opted to sleep in the common room, still wary and unsure of her newfound freedom. No one questioned it.
That night, Wrecker was on watch when Hunter heard the soft patter of feet across the short hallway to the cabin he was currently sharing with Crosshair and Echo. He rolled his eyes fondly, knowing exactly who was coming in.
The door hissed open only to reveal Omega stood in Hunter’s blacks (still too big for her) and shivering in the cold night air. She crept across the room to Hunter’s bunk, where he rolled over and shifted, moving the blanket so that she could climb in. Omega still opted to wedge herself between Hunter and the wall of the room, holding not his blacks like they were a lifeline. He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead as the pair of them drifted into a light sleep.
“Love you, buir.”
“Love you too, ad’ika. Sweet dreams.”
Who knew how long their ship would be more like a boarding house for tiny Jedi, but Hunter couldn’t care less. He would offer to house and feed all of the kids in the universe as long as he got to see his little girl smiling and happy each day.
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wavesoutbeingtossed · 2 months
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Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.
But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”
Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)
Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.
I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.
Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…
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skelly-words · 3 months
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Bring your tentacle to work day…
NSFW: tentacle smut, anal, vaginal, squirting, public, exhibitionism, getting caught (non-con to the viewer?) yep that's it
There's pt. 2 and pt. 3
NO MINORS 18+ ONLY
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Thinking about a pet tentacle that stays in your panties all day. Nobody can see it under your skirt. The fatter end plugs your butt. Its length is textured by suckers on one side, in the same shiny blue as the skin. It runs up and down your slit, letting the slick suckers wake your pussy up, sliding through the sticky mess dripping out of you. The tip softly suctions to your sensitive clit, making your thighs squeeze shut on the bumpy bus ride to work.
Once you sit at your desk, lost on a floor of cubicles, the tentacle begins to double over itself to push into your cunt. You try to stay focused on the spreadsheet in front of you, but your slick and the lubrication oozing from the tentacle is beginning to soak through your underwear. The disgusting squish of the appendage writhing inside of you can be heard coming from between your legs.
It stretches you open so good and you hump the chair for more stimulation. You can feel the end buried in your ass begin to throb, signaling that it's close to release. Your heavy breathing starts turning into soft whines and moans that you can't seem to keep down.
The swollen tentacle fucks you harder, frantically pushing into your pussy as far as it can until you're completely full. Your muscles clench and spasm around it as the suckers brush all the best spots inside of you. In a haze, you stumble to the bathroom, rushing into the back stall before you cum all over your cubicle.
You grip the handicap bar as the head of the tentacle pops off your clit to shove inside of you too.
You hold onto the bar firmly, bent over to press your chest to the wall. One hand flips up your skirt and shoves your panties down your thighs. A shiver runs through you as the cool air hits your exposed cunt, all sloppy and wet from being stimulated all day. With more room to move, the greedy tentacle fucks you faster, sucking itself into your pussy as you could feel the entire muscle pulse.
Your middle finger gently teases your clit, circling around and around the little nub until you’re so close to cumming, practically spilling over the edge when you hear the door creak.
“Oh, no n- shit.” You never locked the stall, and you watch in horror as your co-worker slams the stall door open.
“Hey, are you feeling oka…” She trails off. Eyes widening but never leaving your cunt, all puffy and fucked out. Her jaw slackens and you give up on trying to speak as the tentacle begins to ejaculate. Milky-blue cum floods into you and overflows to trickle down your pretty thighs.
Your co-worker won't make eye-contact with you, but through her shy demeanor, you see the lust dusting her cheeks with red as she watches you. Your sensitive cunny twitches around the fat tentacle as you squirt everywhere.
You've made a mess of the bathroom, your legs are almost too weak to support you, and your co-worker still hasn't spoken.
Finally, in a shaky voice she says, “where do I get one of those?”
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A/N- I kinda want a pt 2 where you use it on the co-worker, but idk if that's too over the top.
Okay I did it
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lanseax · 1 year
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starting to think my friend is a lil toxic…
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smuthospital · 7 months
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⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️
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Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea
Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader
Minors DNI
You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.
He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.
He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.
Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.
He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.
There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.
You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.
"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.
You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.
"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.
Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?
"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.
He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.
He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.
He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.
You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.
His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.
"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.
You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.
"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.
You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.
"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.
You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"
Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:
- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.
- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"
- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"
- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him
- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy
- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.
- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.
- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.
- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.
- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.
- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.
- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"
- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.
3K notes · View notes
cafterdark · 3 months
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Posted 16:35, 12/5 to r/puppyplay
How do I get used to nerve integrating tail
So my gf a few weeks ago admitted she was into puppy play. Now I'm a pretty vanilla guy so I was a bit wary, but open to try it. We've gotten a collar and leash that I wear when we play, but I just got my Christmas bonus, so we splurged on a nerve integrating tail. It feels pretty weird to have it on, but my gf is ecstatic. It certainly has brightened up our bedroom life lately. I'm still not entirely into puppy play, especially when she calls me a "good boy" but I do admit it's quite fun. My only question is how do I get used to it.
Posted 22:51, 12/17 to r/puppyplay
Is it dangerous to wear NIT for more than two weeks?
Hello again,
Thanks for all the advice y'all gave me in the last post, I'm really used to the tail now. I love the wave it wags when I'm excited and so does my gf. It has come to the point I feel like I'm missing something when I take it off. I know the general advice is not to keep it on for more than two weeks but I kind of want to keep it on. I work from home so none of my coworkers know I'm wearing it. And when I do need to go out, it's really easy to hide it under some clothes. So is there any risk to having it on for more than two weeks?
Posted 08:11, 1/7 to r/puppyplay
Skin grown over NIT port
So I just woke up and looked at my NIT and saw that skin has grown over the port. Whenever I try to take the tail off it hurts like hell. What can I do?
Posted 09:12, 1/7 to r/medicaladvice
Any way to remove an overgrown nerve integrated prosthetic?
I wore a NIP longer than the recommended time and skin has grown over it, is there any way to take it off?
Posted 18:15 1/7 to r/puppyplay
Gf is okay with permanent NIT
It's been an eventful morning for me and my gf. I told her the news that I'm stuck with a NIT from now on. I expected my gf to leave me, but she's been nothing but supportive. I'm usually not one for being the little spoon, but she cradled me and comforted me. I love her so much. Thank y'all for your kind words and support. I know it's fairly common for people to have eccentric prosthetics nowadays, but as much as I love this tail, it's going to take a while to get used to it. I'll keep y'all updated.
Posted 13:43, 2/9 to r/puppyplay
Side effects of permanent NIT?
Hey again,
So I've gotten used to the NIT being permanent, but I've been having some things happen to me that I'm wondering if they're caused by it.
To start, when I was done with a workout, my gf noticed I was panting with my tongue out. I hadn't even realized I was doing that.
Another one is that my body and facial hair have stopped growing. Not that I miss them, but it's kind of weird. Weirder still, my hair has been growing rapidly. I was starting to bald before, but now it's down to my shoulders. It's gotten so long and full that my coworkers joked that it looked more like a woman's hair.
Are these side effects of the tail or am I just losing my mind?
Posted 12:21, 3/15 to r/puppyplay
More side effects of tail?
Hi
So I know y'all said that permanent tails don't have any mental or physical side effects, but I'm not so sure.
I'm not sure when it started, but I'm starting to make more dog like noises. When I'm excited I bark up a storm, whimper when sad, growl when angry. I'm not doing any of those on purpose, it's like the rise from my throat. When I see a squirrel, I feel the urge to chase after it now. My gf has joked that she needs to collar and leash me when we go out, but I'm a bit nervous.
Speaking of my gf, I used to tower over her. Yet today, she was my height, maybe even a bit taller.
Other strange things, my nipples is a bit swollen and puffy. It really hurts to touch them.
What's happening to me?
Posted 10:23, 3/30 to r/puppyplay
Tits?
So I've been in denial for a while, but my tail is making me grow tits. I realized this when I was putting on a tight shirt and my boobs were really clearly visible. My gf nearly died when she saw them. After a bit of laughing/leering, she measured and found they're A cups. She gave me one of her bras to wear, which feels a bit itchy.
Posted 17:12, 3/31 to r/puppyplay
My tail is feminizing me
Hello again,
After looking at old photos of myself compared to me now. I'm certain my tail is feminizing me. I'm shorter than my gf, my skin is soft, I basically have no body hair, my hair is super long, I have tits, and um, my equipment is tiny now. I look better at least, but idk what to do.
Posted 15:35, 4/10 to r/asktransgender
Why does my GF calling me a "good girl" make me so excited.
So I'm a cis? guy. Due to a faulty prosthetic I'm wearing, it has slowly been feminizing me. Now, I'm having some mixed feelings about it and my gf asked if I liked being a guy. I really hadn't cared about my gender before so I said yeah. She then asked me how I felt about the phrase "good boy." When I told her it made me feel weird and awkward, she called me a good girl. I suddenly got so happy and my prosthetic went wild. My inside felt so warm and complete that I couldn't even try to hide how happy I was. What does this mean? Am I trans?
Posted 11:13, 4/19 to r/asktransgender
New Name!
After a week of introspection with my gf, I've realized I'm a trans woman. And to thank her for all the help she's done making me realize that, I let her pick my name.
So hi, I'm Bella
Posted 22:12, 4/21 to r/puppyplay
Gf acting weird
So me and my gf do a lot of puppy play and usually it stays in the bedroom. But lately it's been weird.
To start, she insists on cooking for me. It's such good food, but what's weird is that whenever I eat it, she clicks something. Weirder still, its the same click that I hear whenever I cum.
Also, she's gotten a lot more dominant lately. She's constantly telling me how cute and hot I am. How much she just wants to mark me up. She insists I wear my collar 24/7 so "Everyone knows who owns me." She even asks me to call her owner sometimes.
I get so flustered and my tail goes wild any time she acts like this but it's still weird. She never used to be this direct and dominant. I'm not against it but it's kind of weird.
Posted 16:37, 4/30 to r/asktransgender
Why do clothes feel weird?
So me and my gf have been clothes shopping for a new wardrobe lately and we've run into a brick wall. Every bit of clothes I've worn lately has felt tight and itchy. Even my old boy clothes.
Why is this?
Posted 18:15, 5/7 to r/puppyplay
Why can't I disobey my owner?
Um, so my owner has made some really big changes to my life lately. She's told me I'm not allowed to wear clothes anymore, sleep on the bed, eat on the table. She's gotten me a dog bed to sleep on and some labeled dog bowls for me to eat out of. I have to wear my collar 24/7 and whenever we go out I need to be leashed. I can't even walk on two legs anymore.
Yet I don't want to disobey her. It's not like she's abusive or anything, the opposite really. But my brain can't even think of not listening to her. Especially when I hear a click and every bit of my brain is filled with devotion to her.
What am I doing wrong, why can't I disobey her?
Posted 11:17, 6/5 to r/puppyplay
Y'all were right
Y'all were right. It's so much better being a good puppy for my owner. I don't have to worry about anything. She's so kind and sweet and wonderful and caring and ugh my tail is wagging so fast just talking about her. I'm so glad I've accepted my place. Thank you all so much for helping me realize this.
Posted 14:25, 12/5 to r/puppyplay
Gifts for a really good Puppygirl?
Hello
I'm the owner of a wonderful little puppygirl. She's had a big year of changes and I want to get her something wonderful to cap it off. Any suggestions?
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appocalipse · 1 month
Note
heyy if ur taking requests could u maybe do like bestfriends steve + reader where steve, eddie, nancy and robin have to pick up reader from a party and she’s like REAL drunk and just idk super clingy w steve and doesn’t wanna not be touching him. maybe eddie, nancy and robin all make fun of him for it but they acc find it rly cute.
thank you for your request! ♥♥♥ | 2.2k words
"Stevie!"
You collide into him suddenly, nearly knocking him back a step or two with the force of your momentum; there's a smile on Steve's face when you look up at him through eyes that are more than a little hazy with inebriation. You're drunk. Probably way past drunk, if the way the world won't seem to hold still is anything to go by, but you don't care. There are other things vying for your attention—like how warm he feels against you, how safe he makes you feel, how pretty he looks from up close...
"Whoa," Steve says as you lean even further into him and loop your arms around his waist in a tight hug. "How much did you have to drink, exactly?"
He doesn't mean it in a mean way, which is why you grin up at him from where you've got your cheek pressed firmly to his chest. You can feel his heart beating under the palm of your hand now, a steady and calming rhythm that soothes something inside of you.
"Dunno," you reply, grinning stupidly when you catch sight of maybe three copies of Eddie Munson standing off to Steve's left; all of them have identical amused looks on their faces. "Might've had, like, a couple..."
Steve sighs deeply, though there's no exasperation or disappointment to be found in his expression when he tilts your face upwards to look you over properly. You just beam dopily at him, because he's so pretty right now you don't know what else to do.
"Dude," Eddie speaks up, drawing Steve's gaze away from you while your own attention goes back to pressing yourself even more snugly into him, "she is totally sloshed."
You frown, shaking your head in fervent disagreement.
"Am not!"
"Sure you aren't, sweetheart," Eddie agrees placidly, but you get the impression he doesn't really mean it.
Before you can point this out, however, the blurry shape of Robin Buckley steps forward. The room is dark with flashing strobe lights and smoky with incense and cigarette smoke, but you'd recognize her voice anywhere.
"Who let you drink this much?" Robin asks as she lifts a hand up to brush some hair back from your forehead.
It's oddly soothing and so you lean into the contact with a happy hum. Robin and the others laugh — but then again, it sounds kinder than mean, the kind of laugh that bubbles up when you find something unexpectedly endearing, and so you don't mind as much as you maybe should.
"Nobody," you mumble as you press your face into the side of Steve's neck and take a deep breath in; his scent is the same as always, earthy and warm with an underlying hint of that stupid spray he likes to use sometimes. "I'm here alone. 'Cause Steve here blew me off for you guys, but that's okay," you say, even though, to be fair, it sort of isn't true — he didn't blow you off.
"Hey," Steve starts, sounding half-indignant and half-apologetic all at once. He's got an arm around your shoulder now, supporting you and keeping you upright, which makes you want to tangle yourself up in him completely. "You didn't tell me you wanted me to come hang out with you tonight!"
You sigh mournfully against his skin, feeling wistful all of a sudden. It's true. You hadn't told him. That was partially due to the fact that you had been trying to prove to yourself that you weren't so desperately and helplessly infatuated with him that you needed his presence constantly, but that plan had obviously backfired on you spectacularly.
"No," you mutter unhappily as Steve moves the two of you towards a nearby couch. "But I missed you. Don't wanna miss you."
Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, who are watching the two of you with expressions of varying degrees of amusement, exchange looks. Steve pretends not to notice, probably because he knows he won't like what they have to say if he hears it, and instead guides you down onto the cushions next to him. "You're drunk."
"You're pretty," you reply without hesitation, even though you're very clearly changing the subject. "It's unfair, y'know?"
You hear Robin snort, followed by a quiet thud like someone's just been slapped on the arm, and you know it's her who laughed, and that it must have been Nancy who'd shut her up. You don't know where Eddie is; you're not even sure when he wandered off, to be honest. You're too focused on Steve and the way his face looks under the colorful flashing lights.
"Oh yeah?" he asks, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely at your comment. His eyes are bright with laughter when you meet his gaze and nod confidently. "How do I get 'unfair', exactly?"
"'S all in the face," you say matter-of-factly, your own fingers trailing down his cheek in an almost absentminded gesture. "Kinda makes it hard to think about anything else sometimes, if I'm being real here. Like, it's not really fair, 'cause then what are we supposed to talk about? Oh, oh—and then there's your hair!"
"My hair?"
Robin wheezes somewhere behind you, which would have made you giggle if you were still paying attention to the people in the room besides Steve, but you're not.
"Mmhmm," you hum, your eyes running over the soft brown locks on top of his head. "Love it. Wanna touch it all the time. Y'see, Steve? You see? This is why it's not fair at all. And, and—" you trail off here for dramatic effect, squinting at him theatrically before leaning closer with your hand cupped to the side of your mouth, as if you're about to share something private. "—the way you make my insides feel? So, so unfair. Totally your fault, buddy."
"Wha-" Steve croaks out, looking alarmed and caught off guard by your drunken confession. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh," you regain your serious tone, frowning at him in a somewhat bemused manner when he continues to gape at you. "Not 'sposed to tell you. S'not the rules."
Eddie barks out a laugh somewhere off to your left, but Steve ignores him. "Rules?"
"Yeah, 's against the rules, dummy," you say, like he should've already known that. "Gotta follow the rules! Duh. Steve."
"Yeah, Steve, duh," Robin pipes up, earning herself a glare from Steve as well as a smirk from Eddie. "Oops, sorry. Please, continue."
"Can I touch your hair? Like, please, 'cause I might die if I don't, 'kay? If that's okay. Gotta test the theory. Just a little bit, though." You can tell by his expression that he wants to laugh, and that he's also mildly worried that you've lost your mind. "Please?"
Robin, Eddie and Nancy have their hands clapped over their mouths to contain their laughter. You're too drunk to notice, but Steve narrows his eyes at them in warning. "Yes," he says. "Just—yeah, go ahead."
With a little noise of excitement, you reach out to card your fingers through his hair. He smells really good — like clean laundry and fresh pine trees — and the feel of his hair in your palm is exactly what you had imagined, though you're loathe to pull your hand away now that you've felt it.
Steve goes unnaturally still as you press your face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a move he should have expected but didn't, and you sigh happily when the scent of his cologne hits you full force. He's like a living, breathing, cuddly teddy bear, you think, a combination of warmth, softness, and comfort all rolled up in one gorgeous, handsome, unobtainable package.
"You're warm," you mumble, feeling like you could fall asleep right now. "So, so warm. 'S like you've got a space heater in your chest, 'n that's like, so awesome."
He blinks a few times, momentarily speechless as he tries to come to terms with the fact that you are, in fact, drunk enough to be saying whatever the hell comes to your mind. "Uh, thanks?"
"Smell nice too," you murmur, hugging him tighter to you. "Like, wow. Love your hair, like, love love."
His cheeks are burning hot now, his heart beating erratically in his chest when he notices Eddie staring at the two of you with a knowing gleam in his eye. "That's—thank you, but, hey, come on now," Steve says, his voice faltering a little. "Let's get you home, okay?"
"I don't wanna."
"Don't you wanna sleep in your bed?"
You pause, considering his words, and eventually concede that, yes, your bed does sound lovely right about now, so you give him a brief nod in response. "I guess, but can you come too?"
He chokes on air, but manages to play it off by clearing his throat. "What—to your bed? No!"
"Why not?"
Steve shifts a little under your intense, alcohol-addled scrutiny; he feels strangely guilty, as though he's letting you down by saying no. "Because you're drunk?" he says, feeling flustered and unreasonably nervous all of a sudden.
You scrunch up your face in a pout. "Oh, that's a dumb reason."
Steve chuckles and you sigh happily again, because you love his laugh and everything else about him, and he seems to realize this, given the way his expression softens. "Come on, you drunkard. Let's go home," he says gently, tugging on your arm in an attempt to get you to stand.
You resist at first, shaking your head stubbornly as you hold onto him. "Can't. My legs don't work anymore. They're all wobbly."
Steve closes his eyes for a moment, huffs out a soft laugh, and you can't help but grin up at him. He's so pretty that, like, how is that even allowed? How can you be around him and not spontaneously combust or something?
"Well, what if I carried you?"
"Like a princess?"
Steve looks at you with an expression you can't decipher — it's halfway between incredulous and endeared, and it makes your heart feel too big for your rib cage.
"How romantic," Nancy observes.
"So long as she doesn't throw up on him," Eddie adds, nodding sagely in agreement.
"Oh, I hope she does," Robin says, with a devious smile, "he'd deserve it for being such a coward."
"I'm...right here, guys, and I can still hear you." Steve finally says, throwing them a scathing look that only makes them laugh. "If you're not going to be helpful, you can wait in the car."
"As if," Eddie counters.
Steve opens his mouth to tell him where exactly he can stick his opinions, when you grab the front of his shirt and drag him closer.
"Steve," you say, the smile falling from your face as a sudden thought occurs to you. "Are you mad at me? Because I can go home by myself. That's okay."
"Hey, no," he replies softly, "I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. Not ever."
"'Sweetheart'? Really?" Eddie mutters to Nancy, who elbows him in the ribs when he doesn't lower his voice in time. "Ow, okay, okay—just saying. Don't want them to keep dancing around each other forever, is all."
"I'm not dancing," you tell him, completely unaware of Eddie's snickering, "I don't have any shoes on, Eddie. Wouldn't be able to dance without shoes on. Silly."
"My bad," Eddie says, his lips twitching with badly concealed laughter, "forgive me."
Steve scowls at him before turning his attention back to you, his face so close to yours that you can momentarily feel the tickle of his breath against your skin. "Okay, come on," he says, "up we go."
And then, in one swift movement, he slides his arm under your knees and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise and automatically wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.
"Oh, oh, oh," you say excitedly, "you really are gonna carry me."
"Told you so." Steve adjusts his grip on you and makes his way towards the exit. "Are you good? Am I hurting you?"
You shake your head slowly, grinning as you stare at him from a whole new angle. "No," you tell him, feeling much more awake than you were moments before. "This is...this is like, actually kinda cool."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you repeat, smiling shyly back at him. "Feel like a real life Cinderella now. Whoa, you're, like, super strong."
"Yeah, Stevie, you're 'super strong.'" Eddie teases, waggling his eyebrows when Steve sends him a quick glare. "Aw, don't look at me like that. It's cute. The two of you."
Nancy doesn't tease like Robin and Eddie do. She walks behind Steve, making sure to stay a couple steps behind to give the two of you some privacy. Even so, when you look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's listening, she gives you a wink and a small thumbs-up that makes you smile.
The parking lot is filled with teenagers all wandering aimlessly in groups, so it takes Steve a while to navigate his way through the crowd. By the time he finds the spot where he parked his BMW, you've grown drowsy enough to rest your head on his shoulder.
Eddie immediately pops open the door to the backseat, slapping it a few times as he looks over at Steve and grins. "Hurry it up, lover boy," he drawls out, "she looks half-asleep already."
"She's fine," Steve shoots back, frowning in annoyance when Eddie and Robin both pretend to yawn exaggeratedly, "shut up. I hate you guys."
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
Okay we also see Alastor go ham and how wifey swoons over him but now what if wifey let lose, like someone threatens him or the hotel and before anyone could react she dashes forward killing them brutally and mercilessly?
🥵
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Violence, Blood, Wifey is crazy, Suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
Not many people know that Alastor's wife is a badass, mostly because you're content to watch and support your husband on the sidelines
But that doesn't mean you aren't your own kind of terrifying, you're a bad bitch and that's how you pulled your husband
He knows you can take care of yourself and loves it when you put someone in their place, he even likes it when you put him in his place 😏
Everyone is so used to Alastor protecting you that they never consider what you're capable of, your husband is just being a gentleman
But Alastor knows this and looks forward to the times you want to handle things yourself
Someone is harassing you on the street? Being crude and disgusting to you because they assume you're just some random dame?
Your husband simply looks at you to see if you want him to handle it or not, he would love to teach this punk a lesson for you
But he gets excited when you shake your head and start taking off your jewelry, holding his hand out to hold it for you
"Oh? Do come back dirty for me, I'll lick you clean~"
"Promise?"
He just watches you pummel the street urchin with a satisfied smile on his face, letting out a lovesick sigh at the sound of your victim's screams
"Isn't she a vision, Husker? Look at the way the blood drips down her body~ Absolute poetry in motion~"
Husk just sighs and chugs a bottle of booze, already so done with the two of you
"Yeah, uh, she's really somethin'..."
Alastor lets out a happy hum and turns back to watch you, completely enamored by the sight of you
"She really is~"
You try to help your husband in a fight? Well suddenly its just you figuring because Alastor stops to watch the show
"Alastor, aren't you going to help her..?"
He almost doesn't hear Charlie speaking to him, a cloud of hearts practically fluttering around him as he stares at you, frozen in place
"And deprive myself of this beautiful sight? Now, that would be a true sin... Look to your left, my dear!"
He actually has to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his blush when you spin around and impale them, blowing your husband a kiss
"Thank you, darling~"
His tail is wiggling with happiness, dramatically catching the kiss and keeping it close to his heart
Charlie thinks at some point she hears him whistling at you but she doesn't want to look and confirm
Or when someone tries to hurt your family, Alastor has seen you lose your shit because you caught someone trying to assassinate him
One moment, he's relaxed and snuggling with his darling wife and the next, he hears a crash and sees you throwing the attacker across the room
And he'll be damned if he doesn't say that it does something to him to see you like that
You're practically feral as you tear apart the screaming demon, a blinding rage taking you over
"How dare you come into MY HOME! Try to hurt MY HUSBAND!"
Alastor is nearly blushing, flustered and pulling on his collar as he watches you defend him like he's some helpless little demon
"Darling, you sure do know how to make your husband hot under the collar, don't you~?"
He catches one of your hands mid strike and takes you out of your rage, unable to stop himself from kissing your blood covered face
He can't help it, seeing you so angry and violent reminds him of when he first met you-
The would-be-attacker is still alive, a weak hand coming up to grab at your ankle when you suddenly use your own powers to finish him off
You're too busy being kissed and fondled by your husband to devote any more attention to them
He hoists you up suddenly, your legs wrapping around him as he steps over the body of your victim, leaving the room to take you upstairs instead
He nuzzles his face against your neck, distracting you from glaring at the corpse in the other room
"Do you think you could toss me like that, darling?"
"Alastor~!"
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Wifey is just a doll 😍
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whatifyoulivelikethat · 10 months
Text
(seven) days a week, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up
this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)
--
monday.
“What? Something on my face?”
You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.
“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.
You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.
“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.
A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”
You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.
There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.
He looked the part.
Didn’t act it, though.
Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!
This conversation was awkward.
Hah.
You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.
“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”
“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.
You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”
“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”
Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.
Jungkook, however, did.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?
Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.
You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.
He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.
You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.
What?
Damn flirt didn’t even notice.
-
tuesday.
“You didn’t like him?”
“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”
“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”
Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.
“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.
You highly doubted it.
Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.
“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”
You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”
“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”
“Wait, you did wha–”
The roar of the subway train below cut you off.
“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”
You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.
Asshole.
You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.
The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.
You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.
Fuck it.
Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.
Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.
An essay.
You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.
The fuck?
You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.
I apologize for being too intimidating.
You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.
The train roared out of the tunnel.
All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.
You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ
You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?
You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.
Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?
Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.
You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.
Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.
You twitched.
Bold, wasn’t he?
You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.
Shaking a little.
You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.
Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.
You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.
Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.
You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.
Being self-aware was a bitch.
You finally sent your answer.
I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?
You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.
But maybe it would have been better to look more you.
Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.
Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?
You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.
You veered off course and headed to stand in line.
I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.
You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.
You did not just think that.
You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.
I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)
You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.
Hmph.
What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.
Hmmmmph.
Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?
You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…
I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.
Him.
-
wednesday.
The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.
Fuck!
Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!
But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.
Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.
Grr.
You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!
You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.
Big, round, dark brown eyes.
You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.
“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.
You gawked at him.
“What are you doing here?”
Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”
You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”
He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?
“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”
You stared at him.
“You’re stalking me?”
“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.
There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.
Not their business.
“I… I…”
“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.
“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”
He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.
Or lower.
“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”
And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?
Like he thought you were hot when angry.
He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.
“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.
A tiny head shake.
Ah, shit.
You deliberately did not think that was cute.
“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”
You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.
The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.
“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.
Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.
“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”
You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.
“I’m just listening to my heart.”
Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.
“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.
“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”
“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.
“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.
He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”
You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”
What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”
You let out a puff of air.
“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.
You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.
Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”
Your eyebrow twitched.
“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…
The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.
Silence.
Jungkook was staring into your eyes.
“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”
You felt your ears heat.
He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”
You grabbed his finger out of the air.
“Don’t be… weird.”
Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.
You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”
Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”
You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”
He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”
The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.
“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.
“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”
“I’m too much for you.”
Or was Jungkook too much for you?
“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”
What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.
You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.
“We’re not on the same page.”
Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”
Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.
His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.
Sparks raced along the base of your head.
You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.
“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.
Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”
You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.
Inhale still in your throat.
“Then, do you not like me?”
Say something.
But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?
People were crazy.
Call it personal experience.
You sighed.
“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”
He was smiling.
Aw, shit.
“I must be favored to know you.”
You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.
“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.
You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”
The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”
“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,
“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”
You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”
His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.
“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.
The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.
“You think you could keep up?”
-
thursday.
Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.
Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.
Which was fine.
Unless you were actually trying to do your job.
Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.
Fuckity fuck.
It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.
The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?
Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.
Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.
You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.
You sulked.
You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.
And that was the problem.
If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.
You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.
It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.
It wasn’t any particular thing.
Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.
Metaphorically, duh.
So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.
You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.
Bad addiction, yeah.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket.
You ignored it.
Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.
Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.
You don’t think I could have met you in another life?
You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.
I probably broke your heart.
Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.
Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.
You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.
What, did you need to see him every day or something?
Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.
Oh, fuck, you miss him.
You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.
Stupid.
Not him. Just you.
-
friday.
“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.
“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.
It was going really well.
Clearly.
You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.
Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.
Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"
"I'm not a virgin!"
"You are here!"
And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.
You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.
Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.
The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.
“How did you know?” he breathed out.
You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.
The fuck is going on?
“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.
This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.
“You really should stop. For your own good.”
You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.
You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.
“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”
You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.
Lightning shot across the sky.
Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.
“W… What?”
He shook his head, dripping water.
“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”
That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.
You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.
“Noona?”
You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.
You slapped his hand away.
Nothing was going to happen.
You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.
It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.
This was real life.
Not a story.
Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.
The storm raged on.
You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.
Tracing your lines.
“Fuck,” you muttered.
And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.
-
saturday.
No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.
But you knew how that would go.
Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.
For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.
You had reasons.
How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?
You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.
Damn.
You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.
Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.
“You’re a great kisser, noona.”
His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.
You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.
“Shut up.”
Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.
“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”
One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.
“Don’t follow me.”
Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.
Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.
Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.
You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.
ㅎ.ㅎ
O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.
A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.
Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.
You twitched.
Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.
Oh.
Come on.
You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.
“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”
You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.
You gawked at him.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.
The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.
You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.
For now.
You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.
“The fuck are you doing?”
Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.
“I was nearby, so I figured…?”
You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.
He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.
Well.
You weren’t right in the head either.
You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.
Did you think you would like it?
No!
“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.
Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”
The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.
You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.
“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.
“Through a… friend.”
That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.
Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.
Pretty close, in all honesty.
“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”
You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.
“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”
You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.
“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”
Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.
Fuckity fuck.
You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.
You would never recover from this.
“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.
Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?
“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.
“You kinda sound mad.”
“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“A what?”
“Where did you park?”
His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.
“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”
It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.
“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.
At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.
You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.
Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?
Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.
The corner of your lips curved upwards.
You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.
“You. Are. Crazy.”
-
sunday.
You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.
No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.
You spun in your chair, the print job long done.
Thought back on the week.
Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.
Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.
Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.
Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.
Day five, cold rain and warm lips.
Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!
You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.
Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…
What if it actually matched well?
“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”
“I don’t want that.”
“You don’t want it. But you need it.”
You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.
You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.
“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.
“Um…?”
You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.
“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”
“I don’t care.”
Kissed him, deeply.
That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.
It closed behind you.
You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.
Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.
This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.
Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.
“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”
“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”
“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.
“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.
You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.
It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.
“Woah…!”
Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.
“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”
Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.
“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.
Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.
You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.
Heh.
So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.
“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”
You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.
What?
You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.
You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.
“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”
You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.
You swallowed.
Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.
Gotta finish him off right.
You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.
“You…”
Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.
“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”
You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.
You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”
“B-But it’s true!”
You shook you head and waved a hand at him.
“Clothes. Off.”
Every hour, every minute, every second.
Full of sex.
Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.
He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.
Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.
“Harder?”
“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.
Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.
He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.
“Ah, Jungkook…”
You didn’t let it stop there though.
His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.
Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.
You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.
He got the hint.
Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.
Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.
Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.
It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.
Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.
It was like that all night.
From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.
“H-Hey!”
Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.
“Gah!”
Jungkook, too, fucked you right.
You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.
Oh.
Shit.
You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.
“Holy… fuck…”
Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.
You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.
Slowing.
Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.
Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.
Somehow at ease.
“What?”
You smiled down at him.
“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”
Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.
Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.
“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”
Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.
“Ah!”
Shoving his tongue in your pussy.
“YO!”
You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.
“There was just a condom in there!”
“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”
“Hell no!”
After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.
“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.
Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.
“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”
You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.
Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.
He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.
You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.
He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.
You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.
His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.
“A-Ah, fuck!”
A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.
“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.
“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”
“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”
You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”
“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”
“What?”
You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.
“You look so beautiful laughing.”
Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.
“Shut up.”
He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.
“Will you stay?”
You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.
“Yeah, I’ll stay.”
Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.
--
masterpost
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freebreadmoon · 3 months
Note
is there anyway you can write a cute, fluffy little story for Walker Scobell?
YES OMG I HAVENT BEEN ACTIVE BC I HAVE MIDTERMS
warnings: fluff, reader plays annabeth (i love leah dont come for me), no use of y/n, reader and walker aren’t dating but are obvi crushing
requests are open!!
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You and Walker were filming a buzzfeed puppy interview, sitting in the middle of the floor.
Walker sat with his legs crisscrossed, smiling wide at the brown spotted dog that nuzzled his leg. “Is it on? Oh, hi, I’m Walker Scobell, and I play Percy Jackson.”
“Hi,” you introduced yourself, “I play Annabeth Chase,” you picked up the fluffy fured black one that was by your foot, “and your watching buzzfeed!” You put a thumbs up at the camera, earning a laugh from the boy beside you.
“Wait I wanted to say it, I’m literally the main character—“
“But I’m the best character. Walker, you can say it at Vanity Fair.” He rolled his eyes at you, smiling slightly.
“Okay, moving on! um…what’s the question? What was your favorite scene to film…um…oh thats a hard one. I’m gonna say…either the fight with the Ares kids in capture the flag, or falling out of the arch. The harness thing was annoying to put on, but the other parts were fun.” Walker was only half paying attention, preoccupied by the dogs.
“I think the tunnel of love scene, or the one where Annabeth pushes Percy in the water, ‘cause I got to push Walker really hard.” You glanced at him, watching the smile curl onto his face.
“Yeah. We did like 15 takes of that because she kept laughing.” Walker laughed, shaking his head. “Actually, she laughed a lot. We had to retake lots of stuff ‘cause of her, especially the tunnel of love scene. The boat flipped and she wouldn’t stop laughing.” He shifted closer to you, messing with the puppy you’re holding.
“Oh! the next question…what’s your opinion on each other? Um…walker is the best blonde dude ever i think. like he’s literally my kid i swear, and he was honestly the best choice for percy. i think he’s the reason i even got to be annabeth, im really greatful for him. Aryan is super sweet and cool, he’s my best best friend, we do the stupidest things together, and I can’t imagine a world we aren’t honorary siblings.” You scratched behind a puppy’s ear, letting it lick you.
“Well I was just gonna say you’re awesome but…I guess I think we make a great team on-screen as well as off-screen. She’s a true friend. If it weren't for her, I don't know what I'd do, y'know? She’s like my very own real life Annabeth." He glanced up at you subtly, wanting to gauge your reaction, smiling in victory when he noticed the red tint to your cheeks.
“The…the next one says, how do you feel about fan support? is it overwhelming? Well, my answer is yes, sometimes. Especially with people who are really like into the book to the point where they hated the casting over looks.” You had started to speak a lot quieter as Walker drifted closer, trying to get the puppy off your lap.
“I don’t think much of it.” Walker shurgs. “Only really the edits that I see anyway, those are fun.” He smiles encouragingly at you , finally meeting your eyes.
“…Yeah. The edits.” You smile at him, referring to the ship edits. You’d talked about it in multiple interviews, and you had a favorites folder for them on Tiktok. You raised an eyebrow at Walker, who continued to move closer until his head was on your lap, giggling softly and starting pet his hair like you did the puppys fur.
“Okay, last question…have there been any memorable moments on set? Um…probably when i first met her. I just got the feeling she was gonna be Annabeth, she gave me this ‘what is he doing?’ Look, and it just clicked.” He stayed with his head on your lap, turning so his head is on your stomach when puppies come and attack him with licks.
“They think you’re one of them!” You push him off a little so the puppies can get to him. “And my answer…um…I think when Walker gave me the piece of banana that was in my hair in the show. He kinda just tied it in and left my set trailer, and it stuck. So if you guys wondered what the weird blue fabric in Annabeth’s hair was, it was not in fact a design choice, it was a Percy choice.” You turn so the camera can see the small braid in your hair with the bandanna piece at the end.
“And Percy’s got one too, if you look hard enough.” He lifts one of his feet, showing the vans he wore during filming, and the flimsy piece of bandanna tied through his top shoe hole. You shake your head, laughing at his insistence in staying with his head in your lap.
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While you layed on his bed, you scrolled through your fyp, stopping when you see the familiar scene of you two in the buzzfeed room, with his head in your lap. Nodding your head to the song in the edit as you scrolled through the comments.
“IRL percabeth?” He questioned from beside you. You looked at him, not realizing he had started paying attention to you, jumping to get your phone from him.
“No, I’m commenting! And reposting!” He laughed, rolling away from you. You got off the bed behind him, giving up taking the phone and blinking when he simply commented ‘real’.
“Well, so much for ‘it’ll blow over’.” You rolled your eyes, knowing the dating allegations will only get worse after this. Walker smiled triumphantly, waiting for the responses to come in.
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taglist: @persassyxo @diorlorenzo @ilovewalkerscobell @paytonthereader @platypusbearrr @kissatelier @riptidelor
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
Text
Had Enough
For the burnt out student, because I'm at my wits end and the semester hasn't even started
Lando Norris Fluffy blurb
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"Lan, I literally can't anymore. I'm about to punch somebody to rip my laptop like a phone book."
Lando Norris rolled his eyes. This was typical dramatics from her; he'd been listening to them ever since her first year. By now he knew how to deal with it.
"You're gonna regret it if you break your laptop," he said and Y/N let out a sigh.
She knew that. She didn't need to hear it though.
So, maybe Lando didn't know how to deal with it.
"Lan, please," she started. He could hear it through the phone as she pushed her chair back and began pacing around her shoebox of a bedroom. Lando had only ever been there once before; the size of the room alone made him sorry for her.
He listened as she ranted about university life. Ranted out the last grade she got, how hard she was working for nothing, according to her. Lando wanted to reassure her that it would be fine, that she was working towards something, but she didn't want to hear it.
"Come to Monaco," he said the second she stopped talking.
He listened as Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh. "Come on, Lan. You know I can't," she muttered as she sat on her bed. "I don't have the time to come to Monaco."
Lando rolled his eyes. Not in a malicious way. He knew how much she was stressing out and how badly he needed a break.
"Sorry, baby," he said, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence, "but I've got to go."
"Oh," she said, falling relatively quiet. "Oh, okay. I'll speak to you later. Love you, Lan."
He said his goodbyes, told her he loved her, and hung up the phone.
As Y/N laid back on her bed, Lando packed away at least three days worth of clothes. The shoebox of a bedroom she had a university was tiny, but he'd put up with it for his girl.
***
It had been a good number of hours since she and Lando finished the call (depending on where our dear reader lived). She had tried so hard to get on with her uni work, but it hadn't happened - her mind just kept going blank and she'd cried out of frustration a couple of times.
There was a knock at her front door.
With her housemates asleep, she tiptoed downstairs to pull it open. It was too late for it to be a package and nobody had ordered food.
A visitor stood at the door. When she pulled it open, her eyes went wide and she jumped into his arms, him dropping his bag to catch her. "Lan," she whispered, pressing her face into his shoulder.
"Thought you could use some in person support," he whispered as he held her tight.
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lundenloves · 11 months
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fatherhood II
*Standing on a soap box, pointing at every one of you.* I will not be responsible for the tears passed in this piece of written emotional catastrophe. It simply had to be done. Simon meeting his daughter for the first time. It's canon. Leave me alone! *Runs away*
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↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.2k
part one | dad!simon masterlist
i may as well be running from lions at this rate, i cannot believe this. yes i can. no one talk to me or ask me the colour of anything for at least twelve days. sigh.
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Having a baby sleeping on his chest was not on Simon Riley’s bingo cards for this year. His own baby at that.
Ironically, it was like learning to walk all over again. Having a little person who was completely dependent on you was something he couldn’t fathom at all until the time came. And boy, did it come, straight to the deep end he was.
It started when he was stood on the doorstep to his own home, two days late, taking deep breaths and roughing his hair in attempts to alleviate the bubbling anxiety. He was mentally beating himself up for the fucking career he’d chosen, and the hardships that came with time. Time he wouldn’t get back.
“Fuck sake, Simon.” Came a mutter to himself, slapping one hand of motivation to his cheek before reaching to turn the handle. Baby cries were audible from outside, his jaw tightening at the sound. He hadn’t been home in two weeks. Many an argument had passed to get time off although it just simply wasn’t an option. Forcing his wife to give birth alone bar her family. Christ.
He stepped into the house quietly, as if subconsciously on a fucking stakeout. A shaky sigh came when he’d leant against the wall, dropping his bag and shutting the door behind him.
It was a lot and he hadn’t even met her yet.
His daughter.
A rush of guilt panged in his chest and forced the steps he took toward the living-room. His broad shoulders filled the doorframe, in complete contrast to the tiny baby who lay in your arms.
His cold heart attempted to ignite a spark at the sight, kickstarting a warmth that didn’t quite come. Not until you had caught sight of him and instantaneously teared up. It was like all hell had broken loose in his chest, experiencing emotions he hadn’t felt in years. Still, he couldn’t speak, nor move.
You brought her to him, standing up and pressing your forehead against his chest. “You don’t need to say anything.” He nodded quietly, looking down at the baby in your arms. The inner corners of his eyebrows had raised, jaw tensing and loosening between seconds.
You could practically see the thoughts race through his mind. Good and bad.
“Stop worrying, you’re home now.” His shirt had a central wet patch from your silent tears.
You weren’t going to tell him how it was hell, how awful it was that he wasn’t around, and just how much you cried the night you got home with her. Welcomed by an empty house and darkness.
“Simon.” You said weakly, looking up at him and catching the gloss of his dark eyes. He was just as devastated about the whole thing. “Don’t think about it. It’s over. We have her, she’s safe, I'm safe.”
He nodded slowly, eyes unmoved from the baby below him. “Do you want to hold her?” Your voice came as a whisper, aware of his anxieties.
“I don’t know how.” He cleared his throat, looking back up to you. The hardness in his eyes was still there, although exposed by the sheen of upset that threatened to spill. You’d never seen him cry. Not once in the seven years of being together.
You smiled a little at him, a quivering one at best. “You just have to support her head.” Your arms lifted toward his, lightly adjusting his positions before handing your daughter toward her father.
And fuck, did it hit you then.
Stepping back, you made an effort to mentally photograph the scene in front of you. His eyes cast down to the baby in his arms, holding her as if she could break any second. The large palm of his hand was bigger than her whole body, supporting her with his arm although she barely used a forearm's worth of space. Her little hands raised upward, entirely relaxed in his arms as opposed to the crying he had walked in on.
His energy had entirely calmed her down.
“How do you feel?” You sucked your lips inward, both hands on your head to calm the maddening amount of emotion running through your stomach.
His eyes remained fixed on his daughter, still frozen in the position you had put him in. “I don’t know.” He admitted, voice as deep as ever although it had a strain to it.
You nodded. “That’s okay.”
The two of you shared a silence for a minute or two, just entirely in the moment for your daughter and the small babbles she made every now and then. The only consistent sound was her breathing, only audible for the dead silence in the house.
He shifted, “Are you alright?”
You rubbed your arm, looking up at him to find his eyes already on yours. “Mhm.” It was the truth, although he was evidently searching for a different answer. “Just glad you’re home.”
“Have you slept much?”
“Not really. But that’s okay.” The sweet tone of your voice made his shoulders drop, arms relax and his eyes soften. Well, until the baby began to cry and he tensed up all over again, silently panicking while looking to you. “Relax, Si.”
He screwed his face, letting her small hand curl weakly around his finger in hopes she would stop crying. “She’s fine. You’re fine.” A warm laugh escapes you and a slight smile plays on his lips at the sound. “She’s just tired.”
He pushed his arms toward you, gesturing you take her back. He was tired. You could see it in his eyes, “She’s still crying.”
“I couldn’t hear that.” You quip and he tsks, holding his arms out a little further. “Sit with her, it’ll be easier on your arms.” It was a thing for you, wanting him to have her in his arms as often as he could and not scare himself away.
He gave you a predictably unsure look before moving to the sofa. Each step he took was cautious to not stir her even further, sitting down slowly. You leant against the dining table, looking at him from across the room as he mumbled words you couldn’t hear to the baby in his arms.
When he had relaxed, she too calmed down. The steady breathing of his chest created a rise and fall that drifted her to sleep, small fingers still wrapped around his the best they could.
“Are you alright if I shower?”
He looked up in your direction, a flash of a panic appeared across his features. “What do I do if she wakes up?” His glance directed back down to the unthreatening baby in his arms.
“Just talk to her, like you just did.” You walked over, leaning down over the back of the sofa to press a kiss to his cheek. “I know it’s hard, but don’t think about it too much.” Hands placed on his shoulders, massaging into his collarbones.
He hummed in response.
“I’ll be ten minutes.”
Simon only lasted three. Three minutes of staring down at his daughter, alone and full of emotion for her but it wasn’t willing to come out just yet. Fatigue had taken over and by the time you had gotten back, ready to put her down for the night, she was already deep in sleep along with her father.
She was on his chest, arm raised upward to his neck where her tiny fingers touched his skin. His head tilted to the back of the sofa, two hands supporting her while soft snores left him.
Fatherhood.
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reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.
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yawnderu · 4 months
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honestly i would die for bimbo!reader to have some sort of Legally Blonde level of intelligence but for the stupidest, most useless shit. no, she can't remember which knob turns on which burner for the stove, but she can tell you the effects of different chemical compounds found in all her favorite skincare products and now they react to an individuals derma-layer. simon once caught her watching a screensaver on TV for 30 min because she thought it was "a reeeeally slow nature documentary /:", but she's fluent in Korean because she got super into Korean make up brands from her favorite influencers and wanted to be able to read the product ingredients/reviews/tutorials, it just never gets brought up otherwise and when someone asks in disbelief she's all "what, like it's hard?"
and simon is just sooooo so so proud of his smart pretty girl. who cares that she thought soap's parents legally named him after a dishwashing product. can mactavish tell him how to tell dupes from authentic handbags based on the inner stitching that can only be done on machines specially made by Italian companies? no? then shut the fuck up. tell us more about glitter lipgloss, beautiful.
Absolutely!! She may be dim-witted when it comes to certain things, but she's not exactly dumb at all. This girl could recite the laws of astrophysics and solve complex mathematical problems while being piss drunk.
Simon is still amazed by how complex his sweet girl is— he knows she isn't stupid, yet it never fails to surprise him how you start speaking to MacTavish in fluent Scottish Gaelic, only offering the explanation that you learnt it because a character on your favorite movie spoke it once, looking at him like he grew a second head when he sheepishly told you most scottish people don't speak Gaelic anymore.
Sure, you may have thought movies were real and used to avoid watching them because you thought the actors were actually getting killed and you didn't want to support that, yet a window of your house is full of math equations that gave him a headache just by looking at them.
I'd say Simon sees bimbo!reader as a box full of surprises, telling him about something new every single time you have a conversation. How did you get into studying astrophysics? You got the highest score in the university admission exam and saw a poster that was shiny and had cute stars and a pretty nebula!! How could you resist when everything about it called for you?
Mhm, the smell of gunpowder and blood that sticks to him no matter what is such an odd perfume, yet it surely has an interesting molecular makeup! Of course it does, pretty girl.
They complement each other so well because Simon has the street smarts she's lacking, and she has the book smarts Simon doesn't. She can be extremely ditzy, but who cares when she can tell him exactly which inks are recommended for his skin and which chemicals can rough up his face? He had to buy a brand-new eye black stick simply because you could tell the materials used on it by applying it on your hand with a frown.
I'd like to imagine her as someone with lots of odd interests, knowledge and hyperfixations in the dumbest things besides the universe. He has to keep up with you buying materials for making bracelets and keeping a room full of dinosaur plushies.
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
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