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fidogo · 2 years

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And the truth of the matter is (I'll never let you go) - J.S

Synopsis: Jake Seresin hates you. Or is given no choice but to hate you after you decide to hate him first. Which sucks, because he dreams of dating you, marrying you, fucking you, the whole nine yards.

Tags: NSFT, miscommunication, enemies to lovers (kinda), F!Reader, mentions of gender and sexism, infactual Naval Control Room (sorry babes I have no clue what goes on in there and did not fact check), alcohol, sappy emotions, unprotected sex (Don’t do this!), penetrative sex, sub!reader, Dom!Jake, squirting, creampie, overstimulation, spanking, brief cockwarming

Word Count: 4.3K

AN: pretty silly in concept as in I know nothing about Naval control rooms and instead of learning or changing things just barreled on ahead because I felt compelled lmao I also tend to not like miscommunication tropes but once again…something compelled me

Jake Seresin fucking hates you.

Well not really. To be quite honest, he thinks you may be the prettiest thing he’s seen in years. He has dreams where he wakes up next to you, fantasies of taking you to Texas, making sure you never had to lift another finger unless you wanted to.

So no.

He doesn’t hate you. But dear God he seems to be doing everything wrong.

And he never does anything wrong.

But anytime he flirts with you, dropping the ole’ Seresin charm, your lips curl up at him, unimpressed. (He wants to bite them. Or kiss them). You always roll your eyes, pat his arm and leave him hanging.

He hates it.

So he ups the ante, deviating from your carefully calculated flight instructions. He easily sails through the air, gliding between clouds and aces through the training and exercises.

By the time Jake lands his plane, he’s elated, adrenaline pumping, muscles tense, and craving something hot, something more.

Except it’s worse when he sees you that night. He practically turns red when you completely ignore him. Turning on your pretty little heels, not even giving him the time of day.

He grabs your forearm on your way out, brows pinched in frustration at your lack of attention. At least before, when you talked to him, you were friends of some sort.

But now you rip your arm out of his grasp, anger evident.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Hangman,” you mutter before disappearing into the night. You never call him Hangman outside of work.

So yes, Jake Seresin hates you now.

Any conversation between the two of you changed after that day. It’s always tinged in anger, some sort of bitterness. He can’t figure out what he did wrong, and you won’t tell him, and it just further cements the fact that he has to put those dreams of you to rest. He continues to defy you when he’s up in the air, but he’s no longer trying to impress you, no, it’s petty and cruel now.

He lets the wound fester, lets it grow and spread, turn vile enough that the others eventually take notice.

Phoenix hangs by you when you’re all together, a loyal shadow, talons out whenever he gets too close. Rooster's loud and annoying as ever, picking up on the tension and doubling down on his clown routine to dissipate the heaviness.

Jake finds himself embarrassed when Bob looks at him with sympathetic eyes. If you didn’t want to talk to him fine. He doesn’t need you or your goodwill (God he wants you so bad though).

Coyote finds him at a barbecue one night. He hands him a beer wordlessly and just stays with him. It’s quiet and nice, making the ache he’s been feeling recently disappear a little.

“You should talk to her.” Coyote's usually calming voice sounds abrasive to Jake; his hackles go up.

“Jake.” Javy’s tone stops him from pouncing. “I’m serious. Just talk to her. You’ll both feel better.” He slaps his back, wandering over to Fanboy and Payback as the sun dips into the sea, the sky painted in orange and pinks.

You’re sitting by yourself on top of a picnic table, a little away from the group, gaze glued to the sunset.

You look like a fucking angel right now. Something straight out of his dreams.

Fuck it.

Shock finds its way onto your face as you see him walking towards you, his muscled body moving with purpose. Wide eyes watch him before they narrow turning towards the sand.

“Go away, Hangman,” you spit. “Do I need to get Natasha over-“

“What did I do wrong? Tell me what I did.” He cuts you off abruptly, and there’s a twinge of guilt and desperation that colors his words. It’s different than any of your previous conversations. No cocky charm, no anger, just a solemness that leaves your jaw hanging as you gape at him.

He barrels through your silence, sitting on the table next to you. “I can’t fix this,” gesturing between the two of you, “unless you tell me what I did to make you hate me so much.”

Jake briefly notes the way you look at him like a deer in headlights, it’s a look he hasn’t seen on your face before. He wonders what other faces you could make for him.

“You really don’t know?” Your voice softly cuts through the air, anxiety underlining your words. He shakes his head, watching the way you chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare at the darkening sky.

A silence settles between the two of you, nothing to listen to but the laughter of your friends, and the repetitive crash of the waves.

“You embarrassed me.”

It’s so quiet, Jake almost doesn’t hear it.

“What?”

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone. You didn’t listen to me at work. And I fought so hard to get into that control room.” You pause, tugging your jacket tighter around you. It sounds stupid now. Certainly nothing to cry over, and yet here you are, furiously rubbing your eyes.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Jake carefully pushes, unsure of how to make this better.

You make a pained sound, before nodding, a humorless smile on your face. Of course, he has no clue. You press a palm to your chest, looking straight through his eyes into his soul.

“I do the calculations for your exercises and training.” You pat your chest, voice cracking. “I do it.” He tilts his head at you, silently urging you on. “And when you don’t listen to me and are still so successful, everyone looks at me.”

“But I do that all time…” he trails off, hand hovering over your shoulder before pulling it away.

“When you train with Mav or the other pilots, that’s different. But just- certain exercises, where it’s mainly for the plane and just you. That’s on me.”

He takes a sip of his beer, nodding slowly.

“Why do they look at you?” You let out a small groan, brows pinched in annoyance.

“Because when what I calculate doesn’t happen, they think I should be doing better. Well, everyone but Hondo. And in case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t a lot of women here.” Jake’s stomach drops a little as you continue. Shit.

“If I had been a man, I don’t think they would’ve raised an eyebrow. Hell, no one says anything when Johnson fucks up on Rooster’s calculations. And it is on me. I should’ve considered the fact that you’re the perfect pilot who will always beat the odds, but you had never pulled this shit with me before.” He snorts at that, before finally letting his palm rest on your thigh.

In a comforting, apologetic manner.

Nothing else.

“And it certainly didn’t help that after the first time, I did everything in my power to do the opposite of what you said.” You laugh at that, a twinkle returning to your eyes that he hasn’t seen in a while.

“No that didn’t help at all. One day my favorite pilot stopped listening to me, the next day I was a joke in the control room.” Your fingers curl into your jacket, and you keep still as Jake slides closer to you. He puts his beer down, gently caressing your jaw so you look at him.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry that happened to you. I wish you had told me,” he whispers, watching as your eyes dart around, unused to this type of closeness from him.

“I’m sorry. I just was-“ you meet his eyes again, tears beginning to well. “I was embarrassed. I thought I was going to get demoted or transferred. Which didn’t happen. But I thought you didn’t need me and….” your voice fades off, embarrassment all over your face, as you try to squirm out of his grasp.

Jake drops his hand from your jaw, giving you space, but he squeezes the flesh of your thigh.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that. That’s the last thing I ever wanted, believe me.” He swipes at a stray tear with his free thumb, watching you blink in surprise. He steals himself, deciding the truth may be the best route.

“When I didn’t listen to you the first time, I was trying to impress you.” Your eyes widen and your upper body pulls away from him.

“What?” You sound like you can’t believe him, and your eyes narrow at him. “This isn’t funny Seresin.” There’s an edge in your voice again, one that he’s come to respect and hate over the past weeks.

“I’m not being funny,” he throws back, matching your glare. “I was trying to get you to notice me. Hell, nothing else was working.”

“Now what the fuck do you mean?” He looks at you like your stupid, and he almost feels guilty about it except for the fact that he had been flirting with you for so long, it’s a miracle he didn’t give up. And when he tells you that, you look at him mouth gaping.

“You were serious?” Jake almost rolls his fucking eyes, but he’s watching you relive months of memories, as your shoulders sag. “Oh my god. I thought you were making fun of me.”

His heart aches a little at the thought of you thinking he was being cruel to you when he wanted to do nothing more but give you the moon and every star in the sky.

“Sweetheart. Not only do I want you more than anything, I need you. Always.”

“Oh.” He feels you squeeze your thighs together, feels the heat radiating from you.

Oh. Oh indeed.

———

Jake’s careful with you. More careful than he wants to be right now, but everything’s so fragile right now, so tender, he doesn’t want to do anything that’ll scare you off.

His hands are gentle when he peels your shirt and bra off of you; he’s hesitant as he kisses down your neck. His thumb swipes over the, now swollen, lips that have haunted his dreams. They open ever so slightly, letting him push in. He groans into your neck, pushing his free hand into your shorts, sliding over your damp panties.

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes glazed over as he trails his fingers up and down your clothed slit. Your hips buck slightly at his ministrations, lips curling around his thumb as you suck gently at it.

Jake’s cock throbs painfully in his boxers as he watches your body react to him so beautifully, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet. You’re so wound up, so tense in multiple ways, and it’s his fault. He owes it to you to make you cum before he gets his dick wet. It’s what you deserve.

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, caressing your face ever so slightly before trailing it down your breasts to tweak at your nipples.

“Such perfect tits,” he mutters, watching you bloom so beautifully under his attention. “Now let's get you out of these shorts.” You lift your hips as he situates himself between your thighs, pulling your shorts and underwear off in one go. And then he just fucking stares.

You squirm under his eyes, thighs beginning to close as anxiety plucks at your nerves. But he’s faster than you.

“Don’t you go hiding from me now, sweet thing.” He licks his lips before looking at you with blown-out eyes. “I think you doubt how long I’ve been dreaming about you and this perfect pussy. Let me enjoy this.” Your heartbeat picks up at his words, cunt involuntarily clenching around nothing. And he fucking watches it happen.

He smirks up at you in a way that makes you want to pull your hair out, presses a kiss to your thigh, and remains silent. As if not wanting to push your annoyance too far.

Jake settles on his stomach between your thighs, continuing to leave a trail of soft kisses up your thighs until he’s right at the apex, thumbs pulling your lower lips apart. He sighs appreciatively as your thighs tense.

“You’re just staring,” you complain, beginning to squirm again. He tsks at you, dragging his thumb up the cleft of your cunt.

“Hold your horses. I’m just getting started.” He swaps his thumb for his index, circling around the bud of your clit, delighting in the way you shiver, and he continues to trace your pussy as it leaks for him. “So pretty…” he murmurs mostly to himself.

Jake’s mainly teasing you at this point. A bit cruel considering how battered you both are emotionally, but he wants the first time you cum for him to be big. Memorable. Nothing less from Hangman. And for you. Of course.

And so he continues to tease, to drag his digits around your clit, your entrance, teasing the opening but not quite entering. He’s enchanted by the little noises you make, the gossamer strands he pulls from your body. They just look so…sweet.

With his eyes fixed on yours, he leans his mouth forward.

When his tongue swipes along you, your groan of relief goes straight to his dick. Fuck. He could listen to you all day.

Jake laps away at your cunt, chasing after your nectar and the sounds you make, relishing in the way your thighs tense around his head. He draws his tongue up, passing over your clit, and you buck into his mouth. Your fingers are in his hair in a flash, tugging as he repeats the motion. His eyes roll into the back of his head at the feeling, and he grinds his dick into the bed.

“Fuck,” you whimper, eyes sealed shut as you continue to hump against his face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He expertly flicks at your clit, fingers digging almost painfully into your thighs. It feels so good, the pleasure radiating from your pussy making your brain foggy. Much like he can’t think of being anywhere but between your thighs, you can’t think of anything but Jake and his perfect mouth.

The two of you stay in this, wet, messy rhythm of tugging and licking and teasing until your wound so tight, muscles so tense you can’t help but beg. Jake, Jake, baby, please. I need to cum so bad.

He groans against you, vibrations making you shiver. One of your thighs is released, fingers gently trailing over the shallow nail marks left on your skin. You shiver again. Those same fingers find their way to your sopping, twitching cunt, and they trail in-between the lips of your pussy while his tongue remains focused on your clit.

You pant tugging hard at his hair again, you can feel it coming, feel the wave begin to crash- and then he pushes 2 fingers inside you, stretching, searching, begging you to cum around them. And obedient as ever, you do.

You jolt forward, fingers still tangled in his hair as your thighs snap shut around his head, cunt pulsing around his fingers and into his awaiting mouth. Your blood feels white hot, pleasure overwhelming as your hips continue to twitch and buck.

Jake continues to thrust his fingers into you, helping you ride your high as his own hips grind into the bed, reluctantly chasing the same.

When your body starts to relax, fingers no longer clinging to his hair almost painfully, he pulls his mouth and fingers away slowly, watching you carefully, gauging where you are.

You blink at him blearily, licking your lips before noticing how wet the lower half of his face looks. Wet because of you.

You let out a small moan. “Fuck, Jake.”

You look so fucked out, so lovesick- Something snaps in him and he doesn’t know why but he needs you to cum again as fast as possible.

And so he dives back in.

Fingers thrusting, tongue skillfully teasing. And you wail, hips rocking. To escape or seek more, you don’t know.

“Jake,” you cry out, pulling his hair, trying to get his tortuous mouth off of you. “Jake it’s too much!” But a single arm keeps you glued to his mouth. His eyes meet yours, blown out and desperate, and your fucking shaking.

And then his lips form a seal around your clit.

And he sucks.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, hips writhing against him as you’re taken under by another massive wave of pleasure. Your thighs squeeze and squeeze and squeeze, feet flailing against the bed. You repeat nothing but his name, as if it’s the only word you remember how to say, voice tense and whiny.

He moans into you, fingers pulling more of your cum into his mouth, and he grinds his boxer-covered cock into the mattress watching your body crest and crash until you begin to still.

Carefully, as if you might break, Jake pulls away again. The deep ache in his gut was finally satisfied at seeing you fucked out and exhausted.

But you prop yourself up to look at him, chewing your lip thoughtfully. “Dontcha wanna fuck me?” You whisper, something desperate and needy kicking to life inside of you again.

Jake inhales deeply, something twinging in his abs, and he grimaces.

And you flail in panic at his face, turning over to your hands and knees, cunt rising above him, as you turn back to look at him, begging again. Jake please, please I need you in me. I want you so bad.

And he groans, reaching a hand up to squeeze your ass.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing more I want than to fuck this cunt until you pass out. But I need to wait. I’m a little spent…”

You freeze at that, turning more to watch as he peels off his boxers, noticing the shine of the fabric. Holy shit.

Your eyes widen, and you collapse in front of the pillow in front of you.

“That’s so hot, Jake. Fuck.” Your hips wiggle as if to sell your point, and he chuckles.

“Bad timing though, huh?”

You peak out from the pillow, turning back again. “I don’t mind waiting.”

“I know.” And he smirks at you again, and it’s so annoying and cocky in the ways you hate but you’re too horny to care.

Especially when he starts massaging the globes of your ass. You settle down, eyelids drooping as his fingers dig into the flesh there. It feels so nice, relaxing while still keeping you turned on.

Jakes's fingers drift lower towards the entrance of your cunt, fingers gliding over the wetness that lingers around the entrance, pushing it back into you.

A shudder runs through your body as you clench tightly around his fingers. He coos at you, beginning to thrust them in and out, other hand still squeezing away. You gently rock back against him, mind glazed over from all the sensations and the fact that it was Jake Seresin who was doing it to you.

He pushes another finger in, smiling to himself at how you flutter around him, wanting more. Your darlin’ cunt was really a gift, wasn’t it?

He thrusts in and out, glued to the way you drip around his hand.

“Jake?” you sound so quiet, so soft. He could eat you live right now. You’re pouting now, lip jutting out at him.

“What is it darlin’?”

“Can you fuck me now?”

There’s a mean edge to your voice again, one that almost has him rolling his eyes. You’re a fucking piece of work sometimes. But he just pulls his fingers from you, stroking his cock with the wetness of you.

“You know what? I think I can take care of that for you.” You grin back at him, propping yourself up and shaking your ass again, and he slaps the jiggling flesh, making you laugh.

He fists himself mindlessly, guiding himself forward, closer to where he wants to be more than anything.

You inhale, fingers digging into the sheets at how he barely nudges toward, stretching you ever so slightly.

Jake lets out a hiss as he pushes forward. You’re fluttering and tensing like crazy around him, and his nails dig into your ass harshly.

“You gotta relax for me. Let me in.” You shiver and nod taking deep breaths as finally slides deep into your slick cunt.

“Oh shit Jake,” you say, already moving back against him, lost in the way he feels spectacular inside of you. Whatever daze you’re in is reciprocated, as he shallowly thrusts into you ever so slightly as you both adjust. You’re just so hot and wet already. It makes the small of his back tingle; lights something up deep inside of him.

Jake pulls out slowly, watching the way your walls cling to him, listening to the way you mewl. Fuck.

“Yea you like this dick?” He pumps back into you, watching the way you react, feeling you.

“You’re so- fuck- annoying,” you moan, glaring at him from over your shoulder, but your pussy squeezes him anyways.

“You were the one begging for it.” His palm slaps the fat of your ass, and you bounce back against him.

“And what’s wrong with that?” He glares at you, at the twinge of fight and mischief in your eyes.

“Nothing you little brat.”

And then he fucks you. Hard. Hips slamming into your ass, skin against skin. It’s loud, filling the air with wet, lewd noises that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back. You can feel the ridges of his dick as he stretches your cunt.

He fucks you steady, hypnotized by every little thing about you. You just feel so fucking good, surrounding his cock as you drip into the sheets. Jake briefly wonders if you’d let him do this again, let him see you like this, tease you apart until you’re just as gooey and babbley.

He splays his hand out on your upper back, pushing you in the bed. Your breathing’s shaky, fingers curled into the sheets. There’s a deep ache inside you. You need him so much it hurts.

“Jake,” you manage to pant out, cunt squeezing him deliciously. He hisses before stroking the length of your back.

“I know. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl,” he coos, hands landing on your waist. You nod in agreement, the praise going straight to your overworked cunt.

“Used to be so mouthy with me. Just needed my cock in ya, huh?” His question is punctuated by a particularly well-aimed thrust that makes your knees feel wobbly. It’s degrading, but the way he’s making you see stars right now has you whimpering in agreement. You need it. You need him.

“Jake,” you whine hoarsely. “I’m close.” He coos at you again, squeezing the flesh of your waist before sliding his hands to grip your ass, pulling you further against him, letting him take you more and more and more.

“Can you touch yourself for me, sweetheart?” You blink dumbly at his request, before slowly inching a hand in-between your sweaty thighs. Your fingers split into a V, surrounding where he fills you, and you shake your head, dropping your hand. It’s too much, too sensitive. “That’s okay,” he drawls, making your heart skip a beat. “I’ll take care of you.”

He drops forward, sweaty chest pressing against your back, and his hips continue to pummel into yours, cock pressing into your so sweetly. Jake snakes an arm beneath you, blunt finger rubbing quick little circles into your clit.

You cry out, squirming away as he relentlessly attacked your poor, tired nub. It’s overwhelming, face pressed into his sheets, the scent of sex filling the air, the way your cunt’s being shown more attention than it has in a while, and most importantly, Jake Seresin's lips reaching anywhere they can- your jaw, shoulder, back. He’s everywhere. And you can’t hold off the inevitable any longer.

Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, pulsing around him as you shake under him. You gush around him, an extra burst of wetness almost forcing Jake out of your cunt. He grunts, doing his best to keep his rhythm consistent, keep it nice to help you ride it out.

“There you go there you go. Just like that.”

You throw an arm back, nails clawing into whatever part of him they land on.

“Cum in me Jake, please, please.” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, but you don’t care.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” His hand drops from your throbbing clit, granting you relief as his pace falters. When he finishes, he’s loud right in your ear, spurts of cum filling your soaking pussy.

The stillness that follows is thick, hanging heavy in the air. You accept the weight of him inside and out, taking deep breaths as you try to calm down.

Jake stays inside of you, and he curls around you ever so slightly, desire and need to be close to you outweighing the discomfort of his softening cock.

It’s nice, being stuffed full like this. But eventually, you squirm, tapping his arm that rests near your head.

“Jake.”

A chaste kiss is pressed to your sweaty shoulder.

“I know, honey. I know.” Jake pulls out of you slowly, and you wince at the feeling. He hops off the bed, leaving you to curl up on his bed, trying to ignore the sticky cum that’s spread along you.

The next moments pass in a blur; you vaguely feel a damp cloth clean your pussy, a sweatshirt slid over your shoulders, and a glass of water gently pressed into your hands as you sit up.

You blink up at Jake, sipping your water as you take in his appearance. Hair messy, chest flushed, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“How ya feeling?” he asks gently, sitting next to you.

“Like I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.” Jake smirks at you, a sick sense of pride filling him before he rubs your thigh.

“I’ll take care of ya then too.” And that makes you smile so sweetly at him, he feels the breath get knocked out of him. You stretch your arms above your head, twisting as you get comfortable in his bed.

“And I’m feeling stupid because we could’ve been doing this for months.” Jake laughs at that, before humming in agreement.

“We’ll we’ve got a lot of time to make up for… later of course. I need my beauty sleep.” You roll your eyes at that, and he kisses your shoulder, before curling around you, a smile on his face as he reluctantly drifts to sleep. After all, his dream was finally a reality.

#jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman smut #top gun x reader #top gun x you #top gun smut

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tojisun · 5 months

Text

(holiday special - christmas eve)

simon ghost riley x fem reader - in multiple aus ^v^

star dividers by @/plutism <33

biker!simon who gifts you your own bike and takes you around the bloc to ride it. it doesn’t go well at first – you keep stumbling and the sputtering engine of your own bike scares you, but simon’s there, ready to catch you and to switch off the ignition before you can topple.

you two spend hours just familiarizing yourself with the bike before you finally manage a one-minute run without tipping over, simon shadowing you from the back with his own. laughter spills from your lips and simon grins, feeding off of your giddiness.

(you don’t know it but simon’s been filming your progress, sending updates to the group chat when he can.

ghost: peanut’s learning

ghost: [video attachment]

soap: today of all days? ok weirdo. anyways, what time are you both gonna be here for the party then????

gaz: LMAO JOHNNY)

the sky’s stretching into darkness (it’s just four in the afternoon) when you wheel your bike back to his garage.

“y’had fun?” simon asks, tapping your visor lightly with his gloved hand, his eyes crinkled in happiness.

you nod, placing your palms on either side of your helmet to tether it from all of simon’s jostling.

“i did!” you cheer, beaming up at him. “thank you so much, baby.”

simon smiles before he bumps his helmet on yours, his palm closing around your wrist where his thumb begins to rub soothing nothings.

“‘s good to hear,” he says, his voice a touch quiet. “i’m so proud of you, lovie.”

you are still shy, avoiding his eyes as your cheeks continue to thrum with heat at simon’s reverence, when you and simon rev away towards johnny’s place.

baker!simon who is knocking on your apartment door at 3 am and, when that fails, is calling you consecutively until you answer.

“fuckin’ what?”

you’re groggy from sleep, voice still scratchy from having just been woken up. simon can practically see your eye bags from the other line but he doesn’t have it in him to be sorry. you did ask to be picked up for the day’s long haul.

“wakey wakey,” simon greets with a straight face. “time for cake…y.”

there’s silence from your end, stretching into uncomfortable minutes, before the door is ripped open and there came you, squinting up at him.

“what?” you ask again, this time less angry. simon realizes the call’s been dropped so he pockets his phone back.

“good mornin’ love,” is what he says instead because it is. because every morning with you is good. “y’still wanna help out with the shop today?”

you blink your squinted eyes for a while, processing, then, “ah! oh-em-jee, yeah, of course.”

it’s kind of comical how your face eases up with the dawning realization before you scramble back inside to your place. there’s a pause, shuffling of feet, and the door swinging open again. you shoot him a sheepish smile. “come in?”

he chuckles and steps forward to finally crowd you, his lips cool as they brush against your warm cheek. you burrow in his warmth and you two breathe each other in before you amble back to prepare for the day.

(simon stares at the bloody ceiling.

“mactavish,” he barks out. “how did you fuckin’ launch the batter up there?”

it’s only your loud laughter that saves johnny from being fired – “you can’t fire a friend! bro-code!” – and simon stops glaring at him to turn and watch as you try to stop the giggles.

there’s a stray peppering of flour on your face and on your hair, your apron a whole wet mess of egg and batter, and your hands sticky with cookie dough. but even then, you still look so beautiful, so perfect, as you stand there amidst the mess.

“keep starin’ and lassie’ll melt.”

simon elbows johnny in the stomach hard.)

bimbo!reader who worryingly calls simon because something is wrong with the mashed potatoes you’re preparing. simon answers the call within the first ring, leaving the towel that he’s been using to dry his hair to fall limply on the floor.

“hey, sweets,” he says. “how-”

“simmy!” you cry out, cutting him off. “they’re ugly!”

“oh? what is, sweet pea?” simon asks, not even batting an eye.

he gets a facetime call and eagerly answers it. simon almost lets out a croon at how gorgeous you are, all dolled up for the night out with your friends – and even when you aren’t dolled up, even when you’re only in his ratty old shirts, you are still so beautiful – and wishes he can see you in person already.

simon’s not really a patient man when it comes to being away from you.

“hi, my sweet girl,” he says, his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

the worry in your face melts just a bit, your eyes flicking down shyly.

see? his sweet girl, indeed.

“uhm, i,” you begin, clearing your throat when it cracks. “they’re ugly.”

“who is?”

simon doesn’t expect you to flip the camera to show him a pot of… chowder?

“i fucked up my mashed potatoes!”

a heartbeat passes before simon’s peeling laughter comes through. he disguises it as a cough, thumping his chest when the chuckles refuse to be smothered.

it’s just- he can’t look away from the fucked up potatoes, not even knowing where to begin to tell you how you screwed them up. did you add more milk than needed? why’s it so wet? did you add water to it too?

what-

simon’s thoughts stutter to a halt, his giddy laughter petering into quiet puffs.

“sweetheart?” he asks and simon’s blessed with the sight of your beautiful face again. “aren’t you supposed to be out with your friends tonight? why’re you making food?”

your lips jut out in a pout, your nose scrunching as you look away. it takes a heartbeat before you reply, your words chewed on as though you don’t want him to hear.

but simon did. and his heart is left to melt in the weight of his love for you.

“i asked if we could reschedule because you just came back and i wanted to, you know, have dinner with you.”

“oh,” simon whispers.

you sniff.

simon doesn’t hide his smile. “i’ll be there in ten, yeah?”

he catches you nod before simon’s off, running to his room to dress up, before snagging his car keys and the wrapped gift he prepared for you.

he swears that he carefully managed to go past the speed limit as he drives to your place. very carefully.

(extra)

dbf!simon who watches as the minutes go by as his message remains unanswered.

> you free?

he sees the notification that it’s been read. he waits to see if you will type up anything but the chat box remains an empty slate and the seconds of waiting turn to minutes.

to hours.

simon’s fist tightens around the box in his hand.

(johnny sees the diamonds and snorts. “tryna win her back with a rock, really?”

simon glares at him and johnny raises his hands in mock surrender.

he sighs and pushes the gift to johnny. “just take it. i’ve got no use for it.”

“anymore, you mean,” johnny adds, snickering even when he pockets the ring.

simon grunts and turns away, ignoring johnny as he tries to drown out the yawning in his heart.)

: this was supposed to be posted yesterday ahhh im sorry for the delay :(( merry christmas to those who are celebrating it!! happy winter break to those who arent ^v^ i love u guys soooo much <33

#suns.hc #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #biker!simon #baker!simon #bimbo!reader #suns #i love u guys so so much n im sorry this one came out late :((

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yourlittlettoy · 8 days

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FIRST “NEST” HIGHLIGHTS ✨

Just for the sake of using this blog like an actual blogging space 💁🏻‍♀️✨ let me tell you about how my first NEST went!!

For those of you that aren’t familiar, NEST is one of the biggest fetish gatherings in North America for us t-word enthusiasts! I’ve known about it since forever ago, and this may it was my first time actually attending. It was: everything I’d hoped it would be (˘▽˘ʃƪ)・ﾟ✧♡ here are some highlights!

This gathering was probably one of the biggest I’ve ever been to in terms of the amount of friends I saw alone! There were pals from our Tumblr community, friends from Japan, everyone from my gathering friend groups, and lots of friends from my local community as well. It was really heaven to just be with all of my favourite people all at once and in one place (˘▽˘ʃƪ)・ﾟ✧♡

The events were REALLY COOL! Definitely a gathering with one of the most comprehensive schedules I’ve ever experienced! I participated in as much as I could, but notably the squid games, auctions, and t-word-theatre (which is a big public t-word show where someone get’s got in front of an audience in a very theatrical way!) was super cool! Having said that…

I GOT KIDNAPPED!! Well, “napped” 😅 don’t worry, no real felonies here hahaha. When I applied to be ‘napped like back in the beginning of the year, I didn’t hear anything back at all about the process of how that was going. Knowing not every applicant ends up getting chosen, I didn’t let myself keep my hopes up. Long story short.. after I excitedly went to the t-word theatre event all pumped to watch someone get got… to my great surprise, that person was gonna be me lmao ‼️😱 I was kinda *taken* from my seat and tied to a chair in front of everyone, then a game show-dating show scenario played out with 3 bachelors behind a curtain answering questions (really funny and witty answers, might I add) that the show host threw their way 😆. Of course, then the host eventually asks the question “our bachelorette loves to laugh, how would you make her laugh?” … and basically I watched as all of them came through the curtain to come get me 😱 one by one…. And then !!! OF COURSE ALL THREE HAD TO COME AT ONCE 😱💀😵!!! And I couldn’t take it right so I was yelling “help meeee” hahaha ya know cause pooOOooOoOor meeeee 🤪😇. And the host was like… “sure I’ll help them” AND JOINED IN ON THE LERS SIDE 💀💀💀! ANYWAYYYY despite how extremely evil that was 😜🥺, it was 10/10 one of the coolest experiences of my life, I got an “I got napped” certificate AND it made me really happy when people approached me later saying they liked my scene (˘▽˘ʃƪ)・ﾟ✧♡ THANK U NEST FOR CHOOSING MEEEE! 🩷

This was the first gathering I been to with a partner and he was beyond lovely and supportive and we didn’t struggle with feeling any kind of restrictions due to each other .. and this means a lot because I intend on going to gatherings for as long as I can and the fact that that won’t interfere with my love life is truly a dream come true for me :)

Oh, and I experienced getting t-worded by one of my most sadistic gal pals in a fully nylon body suit and 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 I think my soul left my body that day lmaoooo RIP ME

Those are the highlights!!! This post really is a summary but happy to share more details if there are any questions 😁 thank you for reading and for following along this lil journey with me <3 I adore and appreciate all of you here with me right now! We’ve come a long way 🥰 maybe see some of you next year!!! 👀😙 that would be amazing!

#cece speaks #photo #me #NEST #NEST highlights #recap #blog post #text post

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moonmunson · 2 months

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either way / no doubt

a/n: either way and no doubt by Odie Leigh have been on repeat currently and I relate to them so heavily so I word vomited on a Google docs. its a little rushed but oh well LMAO (I'm also always writing with a plus sized reader in mind)

cw: over thinker fem!reader, autistic coded reader, not knowing how to enter into a first serious relationship, kind lover boy!Eddie, no use of y/n

wc: 2.1k

It is the beginning of Spring when she meets Eddie Munson. Genuinely meets him, not just sees him around town and wonders what it’s like to be in his orbit. Working at the local diner, she sees him and his group of friends often. She’s served them a couple times, and they’re always respectful - albeit rambunctious. They tip well, stack their dishes for the busboys to clear, wave to her on the way out.

It’s the day Eddie comes in by himself that marks it as different, new. He sits in her section of the diner, glances her way and then averts his gaze when she meets it. That’s odd, but she doesn’t think much else of it. Not until the end of his meal - consisting of a solitary cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie - does he stop her when she checks to see if he needs anything.

He asks if she’d want to hang out sometime, and she laughs - a forced exhale of nerves. He asks why she’s laughing, and she doesn’t know what to say. After a few moments of awkward silence, she relents and shrugs. What would we do? He says anything she wants. What if she doesn’t know what she wants to do? He says they’ll figure it out together.

They end up sitting in the back of Eddie’s van, the open doors facing Lover’s Lake. She’s fidgety, and stumbling over her words. He keeps staring at her when she talks and she’s not used to anybody doing this much work to stay focused on her and what she has to say, especially because she’s not saying much of substance. He asks her so many questions, and mundane ones at that. How are classes at the community college? What’s your major? She answers as best she can.

The feeling of someone looking at her makes her skin crawl. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, she’s uncomfortably aware of the position of her nose on her face, which seems incredibly silly, and then she’s thinking about just how silly that is when he asks her if she’s alright.

“Sorry?”

“I was just asking if you felt alright. It looked like you went away for a second there,” Eddie ducks his head down to catch her line of sight. Eye contact has always been difficult for her, but this is different - warm - like sunshine. “I know I’m not the most exciting person to talk to, but I hope you’re having a good time. I enjoy talking to you.”

“I’m here, sorry. I like talking to you too.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s okay.”

“Sorry. Oh-” She sucks in a breath and places her hand over her mouth, eyes wide at the realization of her mistake. He giggles, a sweet boyish sound, and it warms his face. She thinks she could love that face, if he let her. If she knew how. She laughs too, despite herself. “It’s a bad habit. I really have to stop apologizing so much.”

He’s still smiling when he says it’s okay, he understands.

Later, when he drops her off at her apartment, the sun has gone down. The ride he’d offered her is relatively quiet. It’s a strange thing, to see the way someone adjusts themself around you. The usual loud heavy metal is absent here. The fast driving and sharp turns are traded in for complying with the speed limit, graceful steering and soft brakes. When he looks at her, she directs her gaze out the window - when she looks at him, he is focused on the road.

He stops her as she takes off her seatbelt and goes to open the door, jumping out of his own and running around the front of the van to open it for her. She leads him to her front door, and he asks if he can see her again, if he can have her number. She nods, and rummages around her purse for a few frantic seconds before finding her waitress notepad and pen. When she rips the page out that she’s written her number on and hands it to him, he clutches it to his chest and smiles.

“I’ll call you when I get home, if that’s okay. Just to let you know I made it back safely.”

“And if I want to keep talking to you?”

“We can talk for as long as you want to.”

“Okay.”

Eddie walks backwards for a few seconds, keeping his eyes locked on hers, paper still against his heart. By the time he’s made it back to his van, he lifts a hand up for a short wave goodbye, and turns to face the vehicle.

Now or never.

“Eddie?” In true Munson fashion, he whips around completely at the sound of her calling out to him.

“Yeah, sweets?”

“I just wanted to tell you I had a really nice time with you today. I can’t wait for you to call me later.” She tucks her hair behind her ears, needing to do something with her hands to offset the nausea brought about by her impulsive vulnerability. He smiles wider, if that’s even possible.

“I’m glad you had a good time. I’ve been wanting to ask you out forever, Gareth and the guys kept busting my balls about it. I promise I’ll call when I get home.”

She nods, her eyes tracking his steps as he makes it to his car. She watches him drive off. It feels so strange, this immediate wanting him to come back, wanting him to come inside and crawl into her brain. To know her fully. It scares her in a way she’s incredibly unused to. When she can’t hear the music blasting from his speakers anymore, she makes her way inside and slumps against the door for a few seconds.

He does call when he gets home, and they talk until the sun rises.

They spend the next few days talking on the phone. It’s easier like this, she thinks. She doesn’t have to worry about the way she looks when she’s thinking of something to say. She doesn’t have to avoid his white hot gaze, the way she can feel it trail over her face when she’s speaking. If he notices how much more she opens up to him when they’re not actively sitting next to each other, he doesn’t mention it.

When they’re not on the phone, he clings to her brainspace like moss on a tree. She can’t stop thinking about him, to the point she’s worried she’s obsessing over something that isn’t there. He’d said he had a good time, he said he enjoyed talking to her, so why does it keep bothering her so much? He feels safe. He does feel safe, but she’s not used to conversations with no expectations. No guise, no hidden agenda. If he notices the way she starts to pull away due to her overthinking, her sentences shorter and stunted, he doesn’t mention it. He carries on as usual, calling her to talk about what he’d done that day. It makes her smile.

When he asks, unprompted, if he can see her again, she says yes.

They go to the lake again. It is an early March morning, the last tendrils of Winter still grasping desperately for some kind of recognition against early Spring. He brings a blanket and hot cocoa for both of them, and she feels it in her chest - warm and sweet and chocolatey, like his eyes. It’s easier this time, talking to him. She spends less time worried about her posture and cadence - more time really listening to him speak and trying her hardest to maintain eye contact.

The early morning breeze makes ripples on the otherwise still surface of the water. It’s so beautiful. He’s so beautiful. He’s so expressive when he speaks. She used to think he was careless, jumping on tables and riling up the people he knew didn’t like him. Seeing him up close like this, she realizes it’s kind of the opposite. It’s careful, planned, the way he uses his hands, his eyes. Even when he’s talking about a book he's read a million times, she feels like she's there among the scenery and characters he describes. It’s entirely captivating. She wants to be more like him. Carefully carefree.

She’s never done this kind of thing - the relationship kind of thing. If that’s what this is, she has no idea how to traverse this new terrain. She can’t find her footing, she doesn’t know what the formula is, what the proper way to go about it looks like. She doesn’t think about sounding weird when she asks:

“What are we doing?”

Eddie pauses mid sip, brings the cup back down to his lap.

“Currently? Or like, with our lives?” He chuffs out a little laugh. Not in a teasing way, though it's hard for her to differentiate. “Because currently, from my perspective at least, I’m sitting in my van with a pretty girl talking about our favorite books. What I’m doing with my life is something a lot of people, including me, would really like to know.”

Levity, she recognizes.

“Sorry if it's a weird question, I just…” She trails off, breaking eye contact, looking at her hands in her lap. He scoots forward a bit, the side of his thigh touching hers as their legs dangle off the back of the van. He doesn’t push her to say anything, doesn’t acknowledge the unneeded apology, doesn’t fill the silence with his own voice. He just waits, patiently. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him sit this still.

“I really like you, and I really like talking to you. I’ve never done anything like this,” She uses her pointer finger to gesture between the two of them, drawing a connecting line between their bodies, “I don’t know how to, if that makes sense. I’m not really a lot of people’s type, I guess.”

“Hey, look at me,” Eddie sets the cup down next to him and very gently takes her hand, locks their fingers together. When she raises her eyes to meet his, he continues. “There’s no rush, I mean it. You set the pace here, okay? I like you, like a lot. If all you wanna do is sit here and talk, I’m totally fine with that. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, sweets.”

“What if you find out how weird I am and decide you don’t want to talk to me anymore?”

At this, Eddie relinquishes his grip on her hand, hops down from the lip of the back of the van, and stands in front of her.

“Y’know who you’re talking to?” two thumbs pointed towards himself - eyebrows raised, mouth quirked in a goofy grin, “King of the freaks, misfits, and ne'er do wells. I don’t think you could scare me off, but you’re certainly welcome to try.”

“So just… be myself?” She scrunches her face up - the idea of being genuine is almost totally foreign to her.

“Be yourself!”

“Ew. Yeah, alright, fine.” She sighs in resignation and shrugs a shoulder. Doesn’t think about how convincing he is, or how willing she was to drop some of her defenses. Carefully carefree. She can do it.

They share a laugh, finishing their luke-warm cocoa together and talking until the sun is high in the sky and the temperature rises too high for them to ignore any longer. This time, the drive home is less quiet. She meets his gaze when he looks over at her from the driver’s seat, she hums along to the sound of the radio, it's nice. Comfortable.

Just like last time, Eddie hastens to run around the van and open her door for her. He extends a hand to help her down and out, and they stay connected on the short journey to her apartment’s front door. Eddie watches while she digs the keys out of her purse, unlocking the door and leading the both of them inside for a drink. He kicks his shoes off by the welcome mat, and they look like they belong there.

It is the beginning of Spring when Eddie Munson permanently plants himself in her life, a steadfast source of comfort and nourishment. It is hard for her, and it takes longer than most for her to truly open up. To show him all the nooks and crannies of her mind. He takes it all in stride - her overthinking, her quirks and neuroses. He shows her that it is entirely impossible to trust someone enough to take part in the watering and flowering - that it's not a weight she has to hold alone. She can bloom.

if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson my beloved #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #it is possible to be mentally ill and be in a healthy relationship #it's rotten work #not to me #not if its you #sio writes

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reluctanttrabbit · 2 months

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[GGY WEEK DAY 6: remember, coworker, everyone lives/nobody dies au]

yes this is a late submission. yes this took longer than usual. yes day 7 will be done soon i prommy dont kill me yet ple-

anyways YAYAYAYA EVERYONE LIVES!!!! what if they were all just a silly lil friend group :]]]

featuring my ellis design (hes everything 2 me) and dlc girl? technically?? bc shes meant to be a side character named amelia from GGY. but shes also based on cassies poster design and how everyone thought she was a chica fan lmao

gregs trying to beat his highscore on a game, cassie + tony are cheering him on, ellis is trying to distract him, and amelia cant see. rip girlie

@ggyweek2024

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softpine · 10 months

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"So... How do you rate our chances of survival?" "I'm trying not to think about it."

↪ Until Dawn AU

you should be able to follow this even if you haven't played until dawn, but i'm not sure anyone will want to read this lmao. major spoiler warning if you do! also since you're not supposed to say the monsters name and it was a bastardization of native beliefs anyway, i'm just calling it "the creature".

anyway, here's how the frozen pines crew would fare in until dawn...

Danny purchases an abandoned hunting lodge in Blackwood Pines. He hasn't gotten a chance to stay there himself, but he allows Asa to bring his friends up for a weekend visit as long as they check in regularly. Unbeknownst to anyone, this lodge was closed down in the 80s after a teenager (Finn) disappeared, and the team sent to find him was found partially eaten in the woods. Finn's body was never recovered. He's said to haunt the lodge ever since, chasing away anyone brave enough to step foot inside.

The group arrives at the lodge just before sundown. Alisa reveals that she brought her Ouija board, so they all gather around to use it – except Austin and Elaine, who are annoyed because they'd been the last to arrive and the cable car had gotten stuck, meaning they'd had to walk all the way up the mountain. They just want to relax, not taunt spirits. Asa mentions that there's a cozy guest cabin down the path where they could be left alone. Austin jumps on the opportunity, but Elaine is reluctant to walk even further, especially now that it's dark. Stevie picks up on her anxiety and argues with Austin on her friend's behalf. ("Why did we come all the way out here if you two are just gonna go somewhere else and bang?") Matt tries to diffuse the situation, but it just makes Austin more annoyed. He says he's going to the cabin whether Elaine comes or not. Elaine rolls her eyes but eventually follows him, though she promises she'll call Stevie once they're safe in the cabin.

As they're walking, Austin apologizes for getting angry and Elaine forgives him. They make it to the cabin without incident, but when she tries to call Stevie, she realizes she lost her phone. She wants to go back to the lodge, but Austin convinces her to stay and they'll look for her phone in the morning. This part follows the events of the game closely, ie. Austin starts a fire and they talk for a while. They start kissing and undressing, but are interrupted by a loud crash through the window: Elaine's phone. She thinks Matt and Stevie (but mostly Matt) followed them to play a prank on them. She flips out, yells at them from the porch, storms back inside, and... gets yanked through the window and is dragged away screaming. Austin grabs the gun off the wall and chases after her. POSSIBLE DEATH #1: If Austin takes too long, Elaine could have her throat ripped out by the creature. If Austin is fast enough, he'll follow her screams through the mines, finding her injured but alive. As he reaches out to grab her, the elevator shaft falls and she disappears from view. Either way, Austin will believe Elaine is dead. Stunned, he searches for who or what took her. He heads for the abandoned sanatorium in the distance, unaware of the horrors that await him.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group is finally using the Ouija board. Finn isn't responding with the planchette, but he's scaring them in other ways: making the lights flicker, random sounds come from the vents, and making himself appear in their vision for just long enough to think they've imagined it. Everyone gets scared, except Asa, who finds it intriguing. He goes upstairs on his own and tries to talk to Finn with compassion rather than morbid curiosity, but Finn isn't ready to hear it and he continues to scare everyone. Stevie is the most worried, especially because it's been a few hours without word from Elaine. She wants to go check on her at the guest cabin. Matt thinks this is weird and codependent, but after enough convincing, he agrees to go with her.

When they find the guest cabin, they see broken glass and blood everywhere, with the door wide open and the gun missing. They follow the footsteps until they reach a cliff. Matt knows he can safely climb down it because of his experience in parkour, but Stevie won't be able to. He tells her to use the nearby radio tower to call a ranger for help while he goes to find Elaine and Austin. Here, he has the option of giving Stevie his swiss army knife, or keeping it for himself. He makes his way down into the mines, until there's no more snow, thus no footprints to follow. That's when he hears Elaine screaming. POSSIBLE DEATH #2: Matt rushes to help her, but the screams were only the creature mimicking her voice. He's strung up by his neck and dragged deeper into the mine. If he still has his knife, he can cut the rope and survive. If he gave it to Stevie earlier, he will be defenseless and die. Either way, he or his body will remain trapped in the mines.

Stevie finds the radio tower. She successfully calls for help, but the ranger says they'll only be able to send a rescue team when the snowstorm subsides at dawn. She waits for Matt inside the tower, but he never shows. If Matt is still alive, his shoe will be tossed through the window, landing at Stevie's feet. If he's already dead, his decapitated head will be thrown inside. In both cases, Stevie is horrified and scrambles to call the ranger again to stress the urgency of the situation, but before she can reach it, the tower starts to collapse. She holds on for as long as she can. The tower crashes to the ground, trapping Stevie in between bits of mangled metal. If Matt had given her the swiss army knife earlier, she can use it to shatter a window and climb out safely. If she doesn't have the knife, she has to kick the window out, hurting her ankle. She decides she's done being a hero and starts running/crawling towards the lodge, bawling her eyes out.

Cut to Asa, unbothered, taking a bubble bath in the jacuzzi tub. Finn is leaving him alone, because even he knows there's a time and place for haunting people. Instead, he's focusing on scaring the shit out of Jada and Alisa, who have been wandering around the lodge searching for clues about its history. The basement is filled with animal carcasses in various stages of being skinned or stuffed that were never cleared out after the hunting lodge was abandoned. Jada starts to feel sick, but Alisa is fascinated and wants to keep going. Finn continues to scare them, getting more and more agitated the further the girls explore. He screams at them to get out, but they don't listen. Eventually, he becomes fully corporeal and begs them to leave, but Alisa notices that he's trying to prevent them from entering a small door at the very end of the basement. Naturally, she has to enter that door. She pushes past Finn and steps inside, though nothing could have prepared her for what she sees: A decomposed human body, mostly just bones, curled up in the corner of the room. He's wearing the same clothes as the ghost. She realizes the missing teen didn't die out in the wilderness on a hunting trip – he was killed by someone in the lodge.

Asa hears the girls screaming and hurriedly gets dressed (no anti-gravity towel for him, thank you), but in his haste to find them, he trips down the stairs and scratches up his face. He doesn't know what's going on and he's just plain scared, so he can't help but start crying. This is what makes Finn realize he doesn't want to hurt anyone and he doesn't want to be alone anymore; he wants these people to survive. He helps Asa stand up, which surprises both of them, because he didn't think he was capable of moving things in his environment without being angry. He says Jada and Alisa ran outside and he'll help Asa find them.

Austin flees the sanatorium, which was crawling with monsters and wolves (he was nice to Wolfie, don't worry). He catches up to Stevie in the woods. She sees a gnarly bite mark on his shoulder but thinks nothing of it, because she has no idea about the creatures and assumes it was some wild animal. If her ankle is hurt, Austin helps her walk and Stevie feels compelled to apologize for generally being rude to him. She doesn't hate him, she just worries about her best friend. Austin understands, but then he has to break the news that Elaine is dead. Stevie tells him Matt is dead too. (either, both, or neither could still be alive at this point, but they are always presumed dead). Stevie flat out refuses to believe that Elaine died, while Austin is defeated and believes they're all going to die tonight so there's no point looking for their bodies. Regardless of what Austin says, Stevie will leave him and go after Elaine herself. Austin continues towards the lodge.

Austin runs into Jada and Alisa next, who are stumbling out of the lodge, terrified. He yells at them to go inside. ("Whatever you think you saw in there doesn't hold a fucking candle to what I've seen out there.") They go back inside and lock themselves in a room with a weapons cache. Austin tells them everything he learned in the sanatorium – the forgotten miners who resorted to cannibalism, the monsters they became, and how the news covered up the massacre they caused. He says Elaine and Matt are dead because of these creatures, and Stevie will likely be dead because she ran off on her own. Jada wants to at least find Asa and let him into the safe room with them, but Austin says he's probably dead too (no one knows that Finn is watching out for Asa now). He teaches Jada and Alisa how to shoot a gun. It's while he's doing this that Alisa notices the bite on his neck. For an hour now, Austin has been stressing that these creatures were human once, but they became infected, dangerous and deadly, and he never mentioned that he'd been bitten by one. She screams for Jada to look at it, but Austin is quicker – he grabs Alisa tightly, covering her mouth. Jada is still holding the gun Austin taught her how to use. Even with a hand over her mouth, Alisa can be heard begging her to shoot him. Jada trains it at his forehead and... POSSIBLE DEATH #3: Jada can shoot Austin. If she does, Alisa will thank Jada for saving her life, and says that if they make it out of here alive, she'll tell everyone she did it in self defense. If Jada can't bear to shoot him, Austin will throw Alisa to the ground and run away.

But he doesn't get far. Right there in the living room, two creatures hang from the ceiling sculpture. Austin slows to a stop, holding his breath. It's nearly impossible for anyone to die here, as Finn will save them by creating a noisy distraction. Finn himself is only a visage, so he can't be harmed by the creatures which angrily circle the lodge for their prey. He suggests the only way to escape is by causing a gas leak and exploding the lodge with the monsters inside. POSSIBLE DEATH #4 & 5: If Jada shot Austin, then no one will be able to warn Asa that there are still people in the lodge, therefore Jada and Alisa will die of smoke inhalation in the weapons room. If Austin is alive, he does warn Asa (despite his anger about nearly being shot), and Asa instructs Finn to help the girls escape first. This leaves Asa (and Austin, if he's still alive), vulnerable to the creatures, meaning POSSIBLE DEATH #6 & 7: Asa and/or Austin can fail a don't move section and die. In the event that Asa dies, Finn becomes enraged and lights the fire himself, blowing up the lodge immediately and killing everyone inside, including the humans. If only Austin dies, Finn feels that he has failed, but he still makes sure Jada, Alisa, and Asa are out of the lodge before starting the fire.

Stevie hears the explosion and runs faster towards the mines, terrified at the idea of all her friends being dead. Elaine can't be dead too. POSSIBLE DEATH #8: If neither Elaine nor Matt is alive, Stevie will automatically be killed here, because she still isn't aware of the creatures in the mines and has no idea she needs to stay quiet and not move. But if either (or both) Elaine and Matt are still alive, Stevie finds them in the mines. All of them are in bad shape now, but they're thankful Stevie came back. They have to move very slowly. When they reach the edge of the mine, so close they can see the moonlight from the cracks, they're cornered by a creature. POSSIBLE DEATH #9, 10, & 11: If Stevie runs, she will die. If Stevie hides with Elaine/Matt and fails, Elaine/Matt will die. If she succeeds, they all survive. They stumble out of the mine just as the sun starts to rise over the horizon, the sound of rescue helicopters growing louder.

Much later, after the dust has settled, police recover Finn's body and lay him to rest. The investigation into his death has only just begun, but Finn isn't concerned. Because for the first time in as long as he can remember, he has a companion... In life or in death.

THE END.

please do let me know if you read this whole thing because you're officially my new best friend :') there's a ton more choices and branching pathways i thought about, but i figured this was already insane enough, so i tried to keep it simple fjksjds

#here's how to read the stats: the white vertical lines indicate the baseline normal #the blue line indicates how that stat has changed throughout the night due to the choices you make #i refuse to be embarrassed about making this <- she said with embarrassment #asa mayfield #stevie donovan #finn atwood #elaine nguyen #jada carey #alisa #austin #matt #bloopers

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 3 months

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bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

thursday, sung hanbin— poetry ii

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 3.5k (it's a doozy but it's worth it i literally am so happy with this one)

⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ thursday summary: thursday. good news: the week is almost over. bad news: you're stuck in poetry class with sung hanbin as your desk partner. it's weird. sometimes you play off each other so well, you're nearly blindsided by his sudden flipping of the switch. if only you could steal a glimpse at his journal.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. very toxic softboi/popular soccer star hanbinnie. guys THE LORE. you very well may not survive til the end of the week but we're already on this journey together so let's see it through!!! smut in gn and fem versions are slightly different due to logistics/circumstance. also there's two parts i wrote in here that made me laugh way too hard okay bye. xx

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★☆(4.5)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest groping/brief nipple play (reader receiving; reader is wearing a bra and hanbin refers to you as having 'tits'), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), fingering (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; about looseness of pussy after this week/disappointing chest but not the size of it he's just being a dick am i making sense), slut and whore used to describe reader, one slap across the face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

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scribble. scribble. scribble.

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting.

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral.

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.��

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you.

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence.

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from her perch at the window, she will never be much. the vultures jeered at her as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove she can be, she will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted her feathers and took her in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. she needs to change back, so she tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws her off with a shove. the reluctant truth is she’s filling with lust... and she’s growing quite scared of the bird she’ll become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird she seemed to want to be... but never thought she could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. she’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now she’s afraid it’s turned her into a raven. a bird that frightens her. or maybe a bird she can’t recognize anymore when she looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change her.”

“but it sounds like she likes that change. at least part of her,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if she embraces that and sheds her own guilt— or molts, if you will— she’ll realize the raven is another distortion of her own making, just like the finch was. she’ll realize she is the dove and she always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess she could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds she thinks they are. maybe she finds that, after all this worrying, she was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you.

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem.

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life.

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show her her worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep her away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, she’d cry before she understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find her and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths she would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation.

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side.

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he undoes the center clasp of your bra and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see your tits and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive chest. you’d never really doubted the allure of that part of your body before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat.

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see them. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand gropes your chest, thumb rubbing circles around one nipple and then the next as you let out a soft whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand slips under your skirt, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he reaches up your skirt again, tearing a hole right through your lace panties and stuffing two fingers inside of you immediately as you cry out.

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? can already feel how much those other assholes have stretched you out,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment.

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a misogynistic pig, but... had you really been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your heat and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty, long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides tenderly that’s making you start to feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, lining up the tip and coating it in your juices. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you.

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him.

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

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gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest/abdomen groping (reader receiving; no anatomical descriptions or gender specific language), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), finger penetration (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; regarding looseness of hole (non specific) from desperation and disappointing chest/abdomen region (not related to gender or anatomical gendered parts he's just being a dick to you i hope this makes sense)), slut and whore are also used but not in a gendered context, one slap across face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble.

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting.

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral.

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”