#but for a moment I was so caught up in the euphoria of the smart and cool things my mutuals say

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

note to self do not go see what people are saying on reddit about things you like it is never a good decision

[sleepyhoon]

THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH

pairing. best friend's ex!sunghoon x reader

genre. best friend's ex au, halloween au, smut, angst (if you squint).

word count. 12.2k+

warnings. alcohol consumption, drug usage, partying, driving under the influence, toxic relationships, themes of divorce, brief mention of physical abuse, smut [car sex, use of handcuffs, oral, praise kink/dirty talk, creampie]

summary. a stressful night at a Halloween party has you seeking comfort from the last person you should be involved with — your best friend's ex.

a/n. HIGHLY HIGHLY inspired by season 2 episode 1 of euphoria! this is a work of pure fiction and is NOT a reflection of how i view the members. despite writing this story, i DO NOT condone the dangerous choices the characters in this fic make and DO NOT encourage others to do so! read at your own discretion.  also, very special thanks to @zreamy for beta-reading this for me!!

When you were six, you spent Halloween night lying on a hospital bed dressed as Hannah Montana.

Everything happened so fast; one moment, you were trick-or-treating with your father and younger sister while scarfing down a Snickers bar for the first time (a king-sized one at that), and the next, your dad was rushing you to the hospital in a panic, tears in his eyes as he encouraged you to stay awake in the backseat.

By the time you’d arrived at the hospital, your body had gone completely limp, and your father struggled to carry both you and your younger sister into the hospital lobby. From what you can remember, it was like a scene from a movie: seeing your dad cry for the first time, being wheeled into an unfamiliar bright room on a mobile bed, all while dressed as your favorite popstar.

The scariest part of the night was shortly after arriving at the hospital and catching a glimpse of your reflection, not recognizing the person staring back at you. The blonde wig and blue eye contacts were to be expected, but the swollen face and half-lidded eyes were another. Had you been able to breathe (let alone talk), you likely would’ve given your sister a classic Halloween jumpscare.

Your mother had arrived only a few minutes after you did, yelling at your father loud enough to have the hospital staff threaten to kick her out. “You forgot she was allergic to peanuts?! Where was her fucking EpiPen?!”

Your dad sighed, running a hand across his face, “I forgot to pick it up. I’ve been busy with…you know.”

She scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve been busy too?! Especially now that we have to meet with the divorce lawyer once a week?!”

Your ears perk up at that, “Divorce?”

You hadn’t known much about the true meaning of divorce, except that it’s something your friend’s parents had gone through, and now he gets two of everything. Two birthdays, two Christmases, two lives. So simple yet so perfect, what child wouldn’t dream of that?

Your parents, who hadn’t even known you were awake, silence themselves immediately. Tears quickly form in your mother’s eyes as she realizes they’d been caught, trying their best to keep the news of their divorce as quiet as possible, waiting for the right moment to explain to you and your sister, Yuna, the real meaning of it, and how different your lives would be.

It dawns on them that there’s no point trying to keep this secret any longer. You were a smart kid, it was probably only a matter of time before you found out on your own, anyway. 

All in one night, you managed to survive a near-death experience, only to be followed by the news of your parents’ divorce. And somehow, at twenty-three years old, watching Lee Heeseung flirt with random girls at a Halloween party is much worse than everything you experienced that cursed night in 2007.

“Can you at least pretend that you’re having a good time?!” You can barely hear Minjeong over how loud the music is, her words fading in and out as you take a sip from your cup.

“I am having a good time, isn’t it obvious?” you reply, showing Minjeong your best fake smile.

Grinning, Minjeong shakes her head at you. “Not at all. Here, need a refill?”

Without waiting for your response, Minjeong hops off the kitchen counter and snatches the red solo cup in your hand. You don’t bother protesting, sighing as you rest your weight against the marble countertop, while she adds a mix of different ingredients to your cup.

When she’s not looking, you tilt your head in the direction of the living room, hoping to get a glance at Heeseung through the sea of drunken college students.

The only word that can be used to describe your relationship with Heeseung is ‘unfortunate’. You were together for six months, and spent most of the time fighting, making up, and having sex. It was a relentless, tiresome cycle you allowed yourself to succumb to just for the sake of not having to be alone.

Most of the arguments would start with you questioning Heeseung’s loyalty, growing suspicious upon seeing his username pop up in the likes section of random girls on social media. In hindsight, it seems like a silly thing to get upset over. The entire purpose of social media was to connect and interact with others anyway, but, why was it always girls? And why would these girls suddenly start watching your stories?

Breaking up with him was harder than you could’ve imagined, and you’re sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it without Minjeong by your side, encouraging you through the entire process. 

The aftermath was embarrassingly excruciating. For two weeks, you locked yourself in your bedroom and fell into a cycle of sleeping and crying, occasionally taking breaks to eat or use the restroom. At one point, your phone spent a full forty-eight hours without being turned on at all, causing your loved ones to panic upon not being able to get ahold of you.

Slowly but surely you managed to build yourself back up, finally starting to feel like your old self when Heeseung suggested the two of you get back together.

You were hesitant, of course, telling Heeseung you were willing to work things out if he can prove to you he’s changed and ready to be the loyal, doting boyfriend he should’ve been from the start.

So no, you’re not together. But you’re also not not together. It’s confusing.

A football player is blocking your view of Heeseung (dressed as a cowboy), you have to stand on your tip-toes to catch a glimpse of him talking to — wait, who is that?

“Patrick would not stand for this.” Minjeong interrupts your thoughts, poking fun at your costume choice of a female Patrick Bateman.

You shrug, pretending to act clueless. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, shoving your cup back into your hand “Sure, you weren’t. Come on, cheers with me.”

“To what?” you ask, suspiciously eyeing the drink she’s just handed you. Minjeong isn’t that great of a cook, so you can imagine she’s not the best bartender either. In fact, it’d be best if she stayed far away from any sort of kitchen appliance.

She thinks for a moment then excitedly extends her cup out to you. “To getting over our shitty ex-boyfriends!”

Minjeong’s ex was Park Sunghoon, they dated on and off for a year and a half before calling it quits over the summer. You don’t remember the exact reason why they broke up, there were many different factors. It didn’t matter, they were bad for each other anyway and the relationship was entirely too toxic for either of their wellbeing. 

You don’t know much about Sunghoon aside from the things Minjeong felt comfortable enough to share with you and the fact that he is on the university’s hockey team with Heeseung. You’ve probably had a handful of conversations and interactions with Sunghoon in the entire time of knowing him, and are more than happy with things staying that way.

Holding your cup up high, you match Minjeong’s smile and tap your cup against hers. “To getting over our ex-boyfriends!”

The drink is disgusting. You quickly turn away so you don’t hurt your best friend’s feelings by gagging at the taste. She manages to down her entire cup while you make quick work of pouring a majority of yours down the sink behind you.

Minjeong stares down at her empty cup with wide eyes, licking the remains off her plump lips. “Holy shit, that was so good. Do you want more? I’m gonna make myself another cup.”

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you say, snatching your cup away when she reaches for it. Minjeong raises a brow at you, and you follow up with, “I should wait before having another drink.”

She nods understandingly, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for coming up with that so quickly.

While she’s occupied with making another drink, your eyes trail back over towards Heeseung. The football player from earlier is gone, and now that your view is no longer obstructed, you watch in confusion as Heeseung now has this mystery girl by the waist, leaning his head down close to her lips as she whispers something in his ear.

This really is worse than Halloween 2007.

“Hey.” You tap Minjeong’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She follows your line of sight, scowling when it lands on Heeseung. “YN, don’t make a big deal out of this. You guys technically aren’t even together.”

“Relax, I’m just going to say hi.” You assure her, moving to head towards Heeseung when Minjeong stops you with a hand on your chest. “Think about this, please.”

You sigh, using your free hand to clutch hers and slowly bring it down from your chest. “I’ll be fine. Be back soon so we can dance, okay?”

Minjeong knows she won’t be able to stop you once your mind is made up, all she can do is sigh and wish you the best as you make a beeline for your ex. Maybe not the greatest idea on your part, but you’re too tipsy to think rationally.

Heeseung doesn’t notice you when you first approach, it takes the mystery girl awkwardly gesturing in your direction for him to finally look over at you, immediately dropping his hand from the girl’s waist. “YN!” He shouts, a little too excitedly, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom with Heeseung on step one of your toxic cycle — arguing.

“You’re overreacting,” Heeseung claims. “We were just talking.”

“About what, Heeseung? Why did you have to hold her by the fucking waist to talk to her?”

“Because! She was drunk! I was holding her up so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself!”

“Who gives a shit if she falls? She’s not your fucking girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, neither are you.” 

His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do because he’s right; despite trying to work on things, you aren’t his girlfriend. You were the one who said you weren’t ready to get back together, not him. You shouldn’t be upset with him for talking to other girls.

And yet, here you are with tears in your eyes. 

You nod silently, avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. 

Heeseung must realize how much his words have affected you if the way he curses at himself, and shamefully runs a hand across his face is anything to go by. “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Don’t bother.” You stand from the bed, holding back a sob.“Everything about this was a mistake. You’ll never change.”

Heeseung reaches a hand out to grab your arm as you push past him. ��YN, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, Heeseung, you did mean it,” you say, pulling the bedroom door open.

There is no point in trying to reason with Heeseung. You know in a matter of time he’ll apologize, you’ll accept it like you always do, have make-up sex, then lecture him about how important it is that he changes before you can consider getting back together. Another endless cycle you’ve fallen into.

Stepping back into the party, you head in the opposite direction of where Minjeong would be, not wanting to run into her in your current state and bump right into someone dressed as Spiderman, causing the little remains of your drink to spill over and knock to the ground. You’re grateful that a crucial part of Patrick Bateman’s costume involved a plastic raincoat, or else your outfit would have suffered a dark blue stain.

“Oh my God, YN! I’m so sorry!” Spider-Man apologizes with a thick Australian accent.

“Jake?” You question, gesturing for him to take the mask off.

He follows your command, face bright red from embarrassment or alcohol. Probably both.

“Yeah, haha, hey. Really sorry about that, I can get you a new drink.” Jake turns in the direction of the kitchen before you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Jake. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Jake thinks for a moment, scratching at the small amount of stubble that’s graced his chin. He really does make a perfect Spider-Man, and if you weren’t so upset, you probably would’ve stayed and told him that.

“Upstairs, all the way down the hall. Wait! It’s occupied, people are doing coke in there, I think.”

Great.

You sigh. “Do you know if there’s another one I can use?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s one.” Jake turns, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Right there. I saw a few people come in and out.”

Thanking Jake, you follow his direction and head to the door at the end of the hallway.

It’s a garage, not a bathroom. But, as long as you get a moment alone, you don’t really care where you are.

After shutting the door behind you, you sit on top of a washing machine and flinch at the cold metal sending chills down your thighs.

You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you don’t even care about Halloween to begin with. It’s an overrated holiday, you wish you would’ve convinced Minjeong to stay in with you and have a classic horror movie marathon while eating takeout and pausing to hand out (peanut-free) candy to trick-or-treaters.

Though, you’re sure you still would’ve spent the better half of the night obsessively tapping through Heeseung’s Instagram stories or trying to spot him in the background of someone else’s. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what, and you find yourself wondering if there’s an end to this unhealthy cycle.

Despite being so young when it happened, you’re sure your parents’ divorce obstructed your view of love and how a healthy adult relationship should work. Your father went on to have short-lived relationships with younger women who were using him for his money, while your mother remained single and chose to criticize her ex-husband’s current lifestyle choices. They couldn’t even co-parent in peace, always making petty comments to the other during drop-offs and pick-ups, finding any and every little thing to start arguing about.

One time in particular, after spending the weekend at your father’s house, your mother slapped him in a Dairy Queen parking lot upon realizing his new girlfriend had taken you and your sister to get your ears pierced. You didn’t actually see the slap happen, but it was loud enough to echo through the empty parking lot and hard enough to leave a red mark on his face.

The memory has tears forming in your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, but before any of them have the chance to trickle down, the garage door swings open.

You turn, and Park Sunghoon (dressed as a police officer) is staring back at you with a confused look on his face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing in the direction of the party. “Uh, Jake said this was the bathroom.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “No, the bathroom’s upstairs but it’s being used. If you really have to go, I’m pretty sure that door leads to the backyard.” You nod your head in the direction of the other door, and Sunghoon picks up on what you’re implying.

He thanks you before jogging over to the exit, setting his cup down on a metal dog crate before turning the knob and pushing open the door.

Sunghoon stands far enough out of frame that you only see a portion of his backside, and once the sound of him pissing on the grass hits your ears, you wonder why he didn’t bother to close the door in the first place.

Men.

He clears his throat awkwardly, “So, you s–”

You cut him off. “Let’s just wait until you’re done, please.”

Sunghoon nods, mumbling, “Right, right.”

He finishes up a few seconds later, zipping his pants back up and properly adjusting himself before returning to the garage, closing the door behind him and picking his drink back up in the process. “So, I’m guessing you’re…upset because of Heeseung?”

You let out a sad chuckle that sounds more like a sob. “Lucky guess. He’s just so fucking confusing, I can’t take it.”

“You’ll be alright,” Sunghoon responds, slipping his phone from his pants pocket and unlocking it. “Heeseung’s a douchebag.”

This catches you off guard, and you’re laughing before you even realize it. “Isn’t he your friend?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at his phone as he scrolls. “Not really. We don’t talk much if it isn’t related to hockey or school.”

A beat of silence passes, then you ask, “When Heeseung and I were together, did he mention anything about cheating on me? Or talking to other girls?”

Sunghoon glances up at you for a split second, taking in how sad and hopeful you look before returning his gaze to the weather app he’d been using to distract himself.

He wasn’t sure if Heeseung went as far as physically cheating on you, but he was definitely talking to other girls behind your back; proudly showing the hockey team countless nudes and vulgar photos they would send him, some of them coming from your own friends. 

Sunghoon can’t tell you this, you’re upset enough as it is.

“I wouldn’t know, I always tuned him out whenever he talked.”

Though he’s not sure what answer you were hoping for, Sunghoon can tell you’re a little disappointed by his response. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like getting involved in anyone else’s drama. If you wanted clarity from Heeseung, you should’ve gone straight to the source.

“Sorry,” you apologize, feeling slightly embarrassed that you probably made things awkward, “have you seen Minjeong?”

Your attempt to change the subject seems to work, because Sunghoon scoffs loudly at your question and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Have I seen the girl that just spent ten minutes yelling at me? Yeah, we may have crossed paths.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink.

“Yell at you? For what?”

“She fuckin’…I guess before we broke up she said I should dress up as a cop for Halloween and I must’ve said no, and now she’s saying I only dressed up like this,” he gestures towards himself, “to spite her. Fuckin’ insanity.”

“Well, did you?” You can’t help but ask, Minjeong would always go on for hours about how spiteful of a person Sunghoon was.

He shrugs, mindlessly tracing the rim of the red solo cup with his pointer finger, “Maybe, but this is all that was left in my size at the party store.”

You’re surprised Sunghoon makes you laugh as much as he does, and maybe that’s a bad thing since it’s making you enjoy talking to him. Though he technically isn’t your enemy, he’s definitely not a person you should enjoy having a conversation with. It’s not appropriate, he’s the ex boyfriend of your best friend; all your ties to him were cut the moment Minjeong broke up with him.

You should tell him to leave, that you’re really upset over Heeseung and prefer to be alone, but you don’t. Instead, you keep the conversation going, laughing every joke he makes and completely forgetting why you were upset to begin with.

Halfway through telling Sunghoon about the horrid drink Minjeong had prepared for you, your legs grow numb from having been sat on for so long. You untuck them from underneath your body, not thinking much of it as you continue on with the story, legs dangling against the cold washing machine.

Sunghoon takes notice, though, his eyes quickly darting down to the space between your legs and the white fabric that’s suddenly visible to him due to the short length of your skirt. You miss it the first time he does it, but the second and third time are hard to ignore, especially now that he doesn’t seem to mind being caught.

You really should cross your legs or call him out on his staring. Or maybe even get up and leave entirely.

To no one’s surprise you don’t do either of those things and opt to keep your panties visible enough for Sunghoon to see while you continue to talk his ear off about his ex-girlfriend. There’s something unspoken happening between the two of you, and it’s exciting yet confusing since this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him in the two years you’ve known each other. 

The strangest part of it all is that you’re just now realizing how attractive Sunghoon is, Sure, he’d always been a good looking guy, but you’d always seen him as Minjeong’s property and never paid much attention to his face out of respect for her.

But Minjeong no longer has a claim on him, and now you really notice the perfectly placed moles that graced the side of his nose and under his eye. He really was a sight to behold, you often find yourself stumbling over your words as you speak to him, becoming flustered over the intensity of the eye contact he’d been making with you.

“…my throat is still burning and it’s been, like, twenty minutes.” You say with a laugh, watching as Sunghoon finishes off his own drink.

He sets the empty cup down, licking the remaining alcohol on his lips before smacking them, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust her in a kitchen. I’m not that good either, though. There was this one time I had to make brownies for our hockey team’s bake sale and they turned out awful. It’s like, half of them were watery and the other half were burnt. So weird.”

“That doesn’t even sound possible.”

“I’m serious! Hold on, I probably have a picture.” 

It takes Sunghoon approximately forty-five seconds of scrolling through his Snapchat memories to find a photo of those godforsaken brownies, and sure enough, they really are a watery, burnt mess. Not that you can even focus on the picture to begin with now that he’s sitting next to you on the washing machine, and you’re finally able to see him up close.

Sunghoon’s words go in one ear and out the other, because now you’re close enough to smell the cologne he’s dabbed on the back of his neck, and notice the metal handcuffs hooked in his belt loop, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else. Especially his uninteresting story about those stupid fucking brownies.

When Sunghoon locks his phone, you take it as a sign that he’s finished with his story and let out another laugh, “Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, slightly slurring his words. 

Maybe it’s the fact that his voice sounds deeper than usual, or that he’s staring right at you with half lidded eyes, or that he's started playing with the handcuffs on his waist, but Sunghoon looks dangerously attractive right now. 

You gulp, looking down at your lap, “Well, at least one of us had a nice drink.”

Sunghoon nods, running his fingernails along your plastic raincoat, “Wanna taste mine?” He asks, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second.

If there was ever a time to get up and leave, it should’ve been now. The rational part of your brain is telling you to push Sunghoon away and return to the party and forget this encounter with him ever happened. But you can’t move, and if you’re being honest, you don’t even want to.

You’re stuck in place, heart beating out of your chest as Sunghoon leans in closer to you. You feel dizzy in the best way possible, and a part of you feels sick for enjoying the moment as much as you do. 

His breath fans your cheek, and the faint scent of alcohol on it should’ve been enough to remind you that you shouldn’t be in this situation with him. Still, you don’t move.

Right before Sunghoon has the chance to kiss you, the door swings open and you jolt away from each other out of shock, clutching your chest as you watch Jake jog into the garage.

“You guys seen my vape?” he asks, a little out of breath.

“I…no, Jake. Why would it be in the garage?” Sunghoon asks, hopping down from the washing machine. He offers a hand to help you down and you ignore it, finally starting to come back to your senses.

“Dude, I don’t fucking know! It was just in my pocket and now it’s gone, it could be anywhere. Help me look!”

Spending your night in a garage helping Jake look for a strawberry-flavored vape doesn’t sound ideal in the slightest; now is the perfect time to leave.

Heading in the direction of the party, you pause when Sunghoon calls out your name, a slight shakiness to his voice. “Keep an eye out for me, yeah?”

Another beat of silence passes, then you nod and say, “Yeah.”

In your defense, there’s nothing to feel guilty over. All you did was have a conversation with Sunghoon, and keeping an eye out for him doesn’t necessarily mean anything else will happen, right?

You try not to think too much about it as you exit the garage, holding in a laugh when Sunghoon says something along the lines of, “You’re a grown ass man, Jake.”

What Minjeong lacks in cooking, she makes up for in dancing.

While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be on her level of dancing, you’d say you’re good enough to keep up with her at a crowded party. If swaying to the music, holding hands, and grinding on each other counts as dancing, that is.

“You’re too stiff; loosen up, babe,” she comments, fingers interlocked with yours.

“Sorry,” you reply, slightly frustrated since you don’t feel like dancing in the first place. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, yeah!” Minjeong turns to face you, moving your arms to drape them around her shoulders. “Then he said I was being crazy, and that he only got the costume because it was all that was left in his size, as if I believe that.”

“Sorry that happened,” you say, and it comes out more sarcastic than you had intended it to. 

Minjeong takes notice of this, raising a brow at you before slipping her arms under your raincoat and pulling you closer to her. “You okay?”

The two of you are pressed so close up against each other that it almost feels romantic, and you’re sure if there was another drink in your system you’d probably lean in and kiss her. 

You nod. “Just thinking about Heeseung.”

Fake offended, Minjeong’s jaw drops. “You’re dancing with the hottest girl at this party, and all you can think about is your ex? I’m hurt, YN.”

Truth be told, her ex was the one you were thinking about, certainly not your own.

Not a whole lot of time has passed since you left Sunghoon in the garage, but you make sure to keep your promise of keeping an eye out for him upon returning to the party. You’re certain that on the outside you probably look panicked and frantic, eyes darting all over the place for any sign of Sunghoon.

“Well,” Minjeong starts, tugging on your tie. “Since you’re thinking about your ex, it’s only fair that I think of mine; and there he is.”

You stop yourself from excitedly shouting, “Where?!” and watch as Minjeong subtly nods towards the staircase.

Sure enough, Sunghoon is leaning against the banister, eyes zeroing in on you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“He’s been watching me for, like, ten minutes. Probably wants to see if you and I will make out, fucking pervert,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Minjeong has it wrong, Sunghoon has been watching you for the past ten minutes. Ever since he finished helping Jake find that stupid vape, he’s had his sights set on you and you only.

That other part was probably true, though.

You swallow the lump in your throat and say, “Such a pervert.” It comes out a tad more robotic than you were going for, but you tried your best. 

Once Sunghoon is sure that Minjeong is distracted, he mouths, “Bathroom,” before immediately turning around and jogging up the steps.

Fuck, are you really about to do this? 

Your eyes dart from Minjeong to the staircase, and you can’t believe you’re even considering going upstairs to meet her ex. Everything about this predicament is sick and twisted and perfectly on brand for Halloween. 

But, somehow, it’s not sick enough to stop you.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna get some air; I’m feeling kinda dizzy,” you lie, hoping it’s believable enough.

Minjeong stops dancing immediately, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Here, I’ll come with you.”

“No, no. You keep having fun, I’ll be back soon. Make another drink for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll need it,” you assure her with a smile, taking her hands into yours.

“Fine, I’ll be here. But the only drink I’m making for you is a Ginger Ale.”

Thank God.

After giving Minjeong a kiss on the cheek (feeling guilty as ever), you slip past her and head towards the direction of the backyard. Once Minjeong is fully out of sight, you switch paths and sprint up the staircase, bumping into and angering a few people along the way. 

You keep your head down once you reach the second floor, speed walking to the end of the hallway and avoiding eye contact with everyone you walk by until you reach the bathroom.

The door is closed and locked, of course, and that’s when it dawns on you that this could be one big, elaborate prank from Sunghoon. You could open the door and be met with a camera in your face with Sunghoon recording, laughing maniacally before mentioning something about telling Minjeong everything and that he stayed loyal to her the entire time.

Unfortunately for you, even that possibility doesn’t scare you away from knocking on the door and saying, “It’s me, YN.”

The knob twists before the door is pushed open, barely enough room to slide in discreetly, but you manage anyway.

Using your body weight to press the door shut, Sunghoon reaches behind you to make sure it’s locked. “You really came.”

You hate that he sounds shocked, as if he had some faith that you wouldn’t risk your friendship with Minjeong for a few minutes with him, of all people. He’s not even your type.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Sunghoon scoffs as if you’ve said the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me, I won’t.”

You don’t have time to overthink the meaning of his words because before you can even realize it, Sunghoon is pushing you further up against the door, and he’s kissing you, finally kissing you.

This kiss is everything but soft, and it knocks the wind out of you. Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your head sideways to allow himself further into your mouth. It’s wet and sloppy, you’re certain that dancing with Minjeong was far more romantic than this. You kiss back anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair, shivers running down your spine when he groans into your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon reaches down to slip the raincoat off of you, pressing your body closer against him to ease it off. 

He pulls away slowly, his blown-out eyes focused on the string of saliva that connects your mouths to one another. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, moving his mouth to kiss along your jaw.

You let out a moan when you feel his tongue slide against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, tilting your head back against the door. Sunghoon takes notice of this, focusing his attention on that same spot, sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark before teasingly scraping his canines along the area.

Quickly, your fingers move to unbutton your shirt, suddenly feeling warm all over. You’re only halfway done when there’s a sudden banging on the other side of the door, startling you enough to halt your movements.

“Ignore it,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. “They’ll go away.”

They don’t go away, they actually start to bang louder and harder once a few seconds pass.

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated sigh, lifting his head away from you, “Occupied!”

“Sunghoon?” You hear Minjeong’s voice on the other side of the door, causing you and Sunghoon both to freeze.

“M-Minjeong?” He stutters.

“I have to piss,” Minjeong whines, messing with the doorknob. “Hurry up!”

Sunghoon must sense your panic and the fact that you feel like bursting into loud sobs, because he places his hand over your mouth before mouthing for you to stay quiet.

Minjeong doesn’t let up on trying to open the door, and you’re sure that with just enough force, she could probably get it open.

“I’m using it! Can’t you just go outside?”

“I’m a fucking girl, Sunghoon. Just hurry up and finish.”

“Just…just hold on a second, Minnie.”

Minnie? Fuck is that about?

Sunghoon pulls you away from the door, keeping his voice and movements as low as possible. “You’re gonna have to hide in the bathtub, just lay down flat and wait for her to leave.”

“What?! What if she sees me?!” You whisper, silently praying Minjeong can’t hear you over the music.

“She won’t, okay? I’ll pull the shower curtain back. It’s the only option we have right now unless you want to jump out the window.”

You shake your head. “There has to be a better idea.”

On the other side of the door, Minjeong begins to grow impatient, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor. She’s had three full drinks and is on the verge of busting the bathroom door down if Sunghoon doesn’t open it soon. She focuses her gaze downward, raising a brow at a piece of plastic that’s been slightly pushed under the crack of the door. What is it? A shower curtain? It can’t be, why would the shower curtain be on the floor? It looks more like…

“Fuck! The cops!” A drunk voice yells before the entire house panics, sirens and flashing blue and red lights fill the house.

Inside the bathroom, Sunghoon had still been trying to convince you to lay down in the bathtub when even more panic sets in.

Minjeong bangs on the door one last time. “Sunghoon, the cops are here, you need to leave! Fuck, I gotta find YN!” She yells before taking off down the hall.

Police officers are raiding the house, and all Minjeong can focus on is finding you and making sure you're okay, while you were seconds away from hooking up with her ex. What a fucking nightmare.

“We gotta jump out the window,” Sunghoon says, hurrying over to the other side of the bathroom and forcing the window open.

“What?! Why?!”

“People are doing fucking illegal drugs at this party, YN, and now the fucking cops are here. My dad works for the city and if-” He pauses to grunt, struggling to get the window all the way open. “-news spreads that his son was at a house party that was full of people doing fucking cocaine his career will be fucking over. Fuck!”

This doesn’t explain why you have to jump out of the window with him, but you narrow it down to the possibility of Sunghoon just wanting to be around you for a little longer. And as pathetic as it sounds, you find yourself smiling at the possibility.

Sunghoon finally gets the window fully open, quickly hiking one leg over. “It’s not that far of a jump, we’ll be fine. I’ll go first then let you know when to jump.”

“You’ll catch me?” you ask, buttoning your shirt back up. Now that the raincoat is gone, you probably resemble a perverted schoolgirl costume.

Sunghoon sighs. “Yes, YN, I am going to catch you. Just be ready to run, my car’s down the street.”

He doesn’t give you any time to protest before hiking his other leg out the window and jumping down; you watch in horror as he lands face down. If it weren’t for your current predicament, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the ick.

It takes Sunghoon a few seconds to get back up, brushing himself off before standing, “Come on! Hurry!”

Despite your hesitancy, you follow Sunghoon’s action and hike a leg out of the window, staring down at him. “Are you sure about this?!”

“If you want me to catch you, you better jump now!”

Halloween fucking sucks.

You swear to yourself as you hike your other leg out of the window, saying a quick prayer as you brace yourself to jump.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly catch you, but he does brace your fall, which is good enough for you. 

He groans in pain from the impact as you stand and dust yourself off, reaching a hand down to help him up. “Sorry!”

Sunghoon stands, feeling a tad bit dizzy and lightheaded. “Just follow me.”

It isn’t too late to turn around and find Minjeong and just leave with her. In fact, it’d be the morally correct thing to do in this situation. Not that you seem to care for morals.

You make a mental note to send Minjeong a text later as you run after Sunghoon.

Sunghoon is not that great of a driver, but this doesn't surprise you.

He's still somewhat tipsy, occasionally swerving along the empty back roads.

What makes it worse is that Minjeong has been calling and texting you nonstop, your phone practically burning a hole in your pocket as you ignore her relentless attempts.

Sunghoon is trying his hardest to stay focused on the road, but your phone ringing every few minutes was really starting to irritate him. "Just fucking answer her," he says, shaking his head.

"And say what? That I'm with you?"

Sunghoon isn't too pleased with your sarcasm and rolls his eyes, "Obviously not, YN; just do something to make her stop panicking."

That's way easier said than done, especially considering that you can barely even think about Minjeong without wanting to burst into tears. The guilt has already started to set in, and it has you questioning yourself and your morals.

You can't talk to Minjeong; it's too risky, but you can call your sister and ask her to cover for you.

Slipping your phone from your pocket, you force your eyes to unfocus and ignore the string of missed calls and messages from Minjeong, dialing your sister's phone number with trembling hands.

As always, Yuna answers on the fourth ring, sighing loudly into the phone before greeting you with a monotonous, "Hello?"

"Hey, um, I need you to help me with something," you keep your voice low, not wanting Sunghoon to hear your conversation despite being right next to him.

Yuna sighs again, "With what, YN?"

"The party I was at got raided by the cops, and we all ran, so if Minjeong calls you, I need you to tell her I'm with you," you say, your eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets when Sunghoon makes a sudden sharp turn.

"Sorry," he mutters under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

You hate that even now, you find him cute.

"Well, where are you?" Yuna asks, snapping you back to reality.

"I… it's not important, just please do me this favor."

Your sister scoffs, "You expect me to lie for you, and you can't even tell me the full story?"

"The full story isn't important, Yuna."

"Clearly, it is if you're asking me to lie to your best friend."

"Just tell her," Sunghoon groans, sounding slightly annoyed, "but make sure she doesn't tell anyone else."

Yuna doesn't have many friends, and the few she does have wouldn't even care about your drama, so it's not like she'd have anyone to share your business with. You hesitate anyway because of the principle of the situation, how just ten minutes ago you were unbuttoning your shirt for your best friend's ex. Maybe you're starting to come back to your senses because replaying the scene in your head has you cringing from embarrassment.

You lean your head against the window and squeeze your eyes shut, "I'm with Sunghoon."

The line goes silent for a few seconds, and you're worried you may have lost service from driving in such a rural area until Yuna sighs for a third time, "The pretty ones are never that bright."

"I swear it isn't like that," you plead, "just, please, help me out."

"And what will I get out of this?"

Of course, she wants something, classic younger sibling bullshit.

"Well, what do you want?"

"I don't know…a normal older sister?"

"Yuna, I don't have time for this, will you help me or not?"

Bickering with Yuna was starting to give you a headache; you were seconds away from hanging up and coming up with a new plan entirely.

"After tonight, don't involve me in this anymore; I have my own shit to deal with."

You hold back a laugh at that as if Yuna does anything other than stay home and talk to the same two people. "I won't, I swear. I'll text you when I'm close to being home; let me know if Minjeong reaches out to you."

"Whatever, just get home safe and don't do anything else stupid," Yuna says through a yawn before immediately hanging up, not giving you the chance to say goodbye.

As much as you loved your sister, the two of you weren't exactly close. The divide started sometime during high school; your interests and friend groups never really aligned and only led you to stray further away from each other.

You being fairly well-known within your high school didn't help much, either. Countless random students would approach Yuna on the daily, asking if you were seeing anyone, begging her for your number, or even giving her small gifts and treats to pass along to you. 

What annoyed her the most was that they never called her by her name, in their eyes, she was always known as "YN's sister", and nothing more than that.

You're sure Yuna doesn't hate you because of it, but it certainly didn't make her very fond of you.

"What'd she say?" Sunghoon asks, interrupting your thoughts.

"She agreed to cover for me tonight," you respond, gazing out the window, "pretty sure she's pissed, though."

"She'll get over it," Sunghoon taps the navigation system on his dashboard, "type in your address."

Despite making you jump out of a bathroom window, Sunghoon technically doesn't owe you anything. He never claimed he'd bring you back to his place to finish what you started; you quite literally only jumped because he told you to, under the pretense that maybe — just maybe — he'd want to hook up with you. 

Clearly, that wasn't happening, at least not tonight. Having to jump out the window and then proceed to drive while tipsy must've knocked some sense into him, making him realize he'd been making way too many questionable choices all in one night. 

You let out a disappointed sigh, hesitantly reaching out to type your home address into the car's GPS. The system buffers for a few seconds as it calculates the quickest route to your home before displaying an estimated travel time of thirty-eight minutes.

"Forty fucking minutes?!" Sunghoon shouts, causing you to jump. 

He sighs, cursing under his breath before reaching forward and ending the navigation route. You sit up further in the seat, ready to ask Sunghoon what he's plotting before he starts typing "7/11".

You raise a brow at this, "Why're we going there?"

Sunghoon gestures towards the navigation system as if the answer is obvious, "Your house is forty minutes away, and I'm still kinda tipsy; I'm gonna need to pull over and get something other than alcohol in my system if I'm gonna be driving for that long." There's a slight slur to his words that had you weary about him driving, so pulling over to recharge isn't a bad idea.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sunghoon managed to safely drive the two of you to the nearest 7/11, opting to pay seventeen dollars to park in a parking garage down the street instead of the shop's personal lot.

"This neighborhood isn't that safe; I don't want anyone breaking into my car," he claims, taking up two spots as he parks in the most secluded corner possible.

The neighborhood is fairly safe; he was just being dramatic.

The walk down the street is quick and slightly awkward, with you and Sunghoon stumbling every few steps yet refusing to hold onto the other for stability.

The two of you go your separate ways upon entering the shop, Sunghoon headed straight towards the snack aisle while you make your way to the slurpee machines. The difference in your priorities was humorous, with him wanting to focus on building up energy and you wanting nothing more than a quick sugar fix.

Blue raspberry isn't necessarily your go-to flavor, but it's the only flavor on the Slurpee machine that's currently working, so you fill your plastic cup to the brim before absentmindedly reaching for a straw.

Sunghoon is still prancing around the store by the time you've finished making your drink, and despite not being that hungry, you decide to kill time by strolling through the snack aisles.

The Snickers bars and Reese's Cups look tempting as always, but you refrain, sighing as you look over the selection of peanut-contaminated candy.

"Don't even bother," Sunghoon says from behind you, causing you to gasp in shock. 

He pauses for a moment, staring at the array of snacks before grabbing a pack of Skittles and walking off.

The thought of Sunghoon being aware of your peanut allergy is as comforting as it is strange. You can't imagine this is something Minjeong randomly decided to tell him, and even if that is the case, why would he bother retaining that information? It's not like the two of you are friends.

Whatever, you're probably thinking about it too much.

After deciding on a package of powdered mini donuts and Haribo gummy bears, you proceed to the checkout counter and set your items down, looking over your shoulder at Sunghoon, who was selecting the last of his items.

The man behind the counter smiles at you, typing his employee ID number into the cash register, "How's your night going?"

"Horrible," you say, making the clerk laugh even though you weren't joking.

"Sorry to hear that," he responds, scanning your items, "your total came out to…$6.12. Oh, hello, officer."

Despite not having done anything wrong, you nearly panic before remembering Sunghoon's unfortunate costume choice.

He nods at the man, setting his own items down on the counter, "Add these too. You guys take Apple Pay?" He asks, unlocking his phone.

"Oh, you don't have to pay for mine," you say, a nervous tremble in your voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, "No big deal."

Except it is a big deal. Sunghoon behaving like a boyfriend gentleman by paying for your items only made you like him even more, which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.

You sigh, taking a literal and metaphorical step back as Sunghoon taps his phone on the card reader. 

"A cop and a schoolgirl, huh? These couple's costumes are starting to make less and less sense," the employee comments, eyes darting between you and Sunghoon. 

"We're not a couple," Sunghoon responds, a little too quickly for your liking, but whatever.

The employee apologizes, embarrassed about his implications as he bags your items and wishes the two of you a safe trip home.

On the way back to Sunghoon's car, it dawns on you that Minjeong has stopped trying to get ahold of you, which is slightly worrisome considering that she's a person who wouldn't give up that easily. 

Sunghoon climbs into the backseat this time, mumbling something about needing to rest and stretch out before driving you home. He sets the bag down on the center console, grabbing a few of his items before propping himself up against the door.

You do the same, retrieving your own items from the bag before slumping into your seat. 

When you finally unlock your phone, a new voice memo from Yuna is waiting for you. Hesitantly, you hold your phone against your ear and hit play.

Yuna lets out a loud sigh, "So, you and Minjeong must have some sort of, like,  telepathic connection because she called me as soon as I hung up on you. Anyways, I told her our cousin was also at the party and was able to, uh, give you a ride home once the cops came. Oh, and I told her your phone died and that you'd call her, um,  later or in the morning. I'm not sure if she believed it, but she calmed down.

And, by the way, I meant it when I said I don't want to be involved in whatever this is after tonight. So, for everyone's sake, if something serious is going on, do not tell me about it. Get home safe."

You're not entirely sure if you deserve a sister like Yuna, who'd go against her own morals just to cover for you, but you're grateful you have her.

you [11:54 pm] : *you liked a voice memo*

you [11:54 pm] : thanks so much

you [11:55 pm] : i promise i wont involve u anymore. if minnie calls again u can just ignore it and lmk please

yuna [11:56 pm] : oh and she told me to let you know that she's safe. tho im sure that's not your biggest concern :/

Harsh but true.

You set your phone on your lap and tear open your pack of donuts, wiping away the powdered sugar that falls onto your blouse. Much like the blue raspberry slurpee, mini powdered donuts weren't exactly your go-to snack, but your options were limited, and you weren't in the mood to roam around the store any longer.

Suddenly, Sunghoon groans from the backseat and sits up, "Phone died."

Leaning over the center console, he plugs his phone into the car charger right underneath his navigation system, resting it on the dashboard before returning to his seat. 

The car falls silent, and as much as you want to start a conversation, you're not sure where to begin. There's so much you want to ask, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue so hard you're surprised the taste of blood doesn't fill your mouth.

Sunghoon leans forward again, this time resting his cheek on the side of your seat, "What'd you get?" he asks, staring down at your lap.

You turn your head to look at him, holding up the half-eaten pack of donuts for him to see.

"Can I have one?" he asks, already holding his hand out before you could even say yes.

You hand him one regardless, watching the powder fall from the pastry as he pops it into his mouth.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes at him as you ask, "Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

He nods, gesturing towards the remaining donuts in a way that tells you he wants more. You hand him the remaining three, nodding back when he mumbles "Thanks" under his breath.

"How did you know that I'm allergic to peanuts?"

Sunghoon pauses, brows furrowing in utter confusion as he looks up at you, "What do you mean?"

"Earlier in the store, I was looking at the peanut candy, and you told me not to bother. I'm assuming you must've known I'm allergic, right?" You ask, fully turning around in your seat to face him.

"Um…yeah. I know."

"Okay…how?"

"I mean, was it supposed to be a secret or something?"

"What? No, of course not. Allergies are probably the one thing that shouldn't be kept secret," you respond, "I'm just curious about how you know. I don't think I've ever told you, and I can't imagine Minjeong randomly deciding to tell you."

Sunghoon awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he avoids looking at you. It takes the tips of his ears turning pink for you to realize that he's embarrassed, which only confuses you even further.

Sunghoon shrugs, staring down at the snack you've just given him, "Whenever all of us would hang out, and there was, like, food involved, I just noticed you'd pay so much attention to the ingredients of whatever it was you were eating. At first, I thought it was a calorie thing, but you never really asked about the calories, only the ingredients."

"But, how'd you know it was peanuts specifically?" you ask, feeling embarrassed about how curious you were over something as silly as a peanut allergy.

"Remember the hockey team bake sale? The one I made those terrible brownies for?" He asks, continuing when you nod, "You were there, and I remember how excited you were to try the cookies that Jake made, but right before you bought one, you asked him if there were peanuts in them. That's when I knew."

You can't remember the last time someone had paid this much attention to you, and it's dangerous, considering how easily impressed you are by the smallest things. Sunghoon was by no means a friend of yours; you hardly knew anything about each other and often kept your interactions rather short, so his being able to pick up on your peanut allergy just by watching you was … different. Maybe even nice.

You don't even realize you've been staring at him until he stops chewing and stares back, unblinking.

You look away, retrieving your Slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long sip as Sunghoon watches.

"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.

You don't respond, side-eyeing him as you continue to sip your drink.

Sunghoon smirks, amused by your sudden silence, "Why'd you meet me in the bathroom?"

You pull the straw away from your lips, voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "To see what you wanted."

He nods, taking the cup from your hands, "You knew what I wanted," he says, pausing to take a sip of your drink, "and you still came; why?"

When you don't respond, Sunghoon lets out a loud sigh and sets your cup back down in its holder, "It's okay, YN."

"It isn't."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess we'll never know, huh?"

This is a test of your morals, and Sunghoon knows this. Every decision you've made tonight has led you to this exact moment. There's still enough time to redeem yourself and make an excuse for your actions. You could easily lie and say that making out with Sunghoon was just a result of being tipsy and vulnerable. But now, with the two of you in his car, sobering up and coming back down to your senses, you won't be able to use those same excuses.

Realistically speaking, what are the chances of your ex's finding out? Heeseung probably wouldn't care, but Minjeong was an entirely different story.

In your defense, they've been officially broken up for three weeks and three days, so you wouldn't technically be hooking up with her boyfriend. Right?

Sunghoon must've sensed the gears turning in your head because, after a few seconds of staring at each other in silence, he leaned over the center console and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss is softer this time, nothing like how it was in the bathroom as if he's trying to coax you in and convince you it's okay, that you're doing nothing wrong.

You find yourself slipping under his spell, eyes finally fluttering shut as he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. The faint taste of alcohol is still on his tongue, but he does taste much sweeter now, like the blue raspberry slurpee he'd just had. A part of you wonders if he'd done that on purpose as if tasting better would make you enjoy kissing him like this.

He pulls away, scooting farther back into his seat, "C'mere, climb over."

You do as you're told, slipping off your shoes with Sunghoon guiding you right onto his lap as you climb into the backseat. You can't help but squirm on his lap, and he can still sense a slight hesitancy in your actions, the way you shiver when he touches you, how you initially pulled back when he tried to kiss you again.

"You're nervous," he comments, eye flickering across your face.

You shrug, holding onto his shoulders for support, "I can't help it."

Beneath you, Sunghoon reaches down to unclip the handcuffs from his belt loop, "You're making it hard to focus."

"The fuck am I supposed to do, then?!" You didn't mean to shout, but your patience was starting to run thin. You felt guilty enough as it is, and Sunghoon reminding you of how nervous you are certainly didn't make it any better.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, undoing the handcuffs before grabbing your left hand. He tightens the cuff around your wrist, "Just trust me," he says simply. He sits up further in his seat, grabbing your cuffed wrist as he pulls down on the car's grab handle. He slips the empty cuff through the slot before gesturing for you to give him your free hand.

Fuck.

"Sunghoon…"

"Just trust me," he doesn't wait for a response, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up towards the empty cuff. It locks around your wrist with a click, causing him to smile in satisfaction. 

You're sure that with just the right amount of force, you could easily snap the handcuffs in half, but it's the thought that counts. With your arms and hands restricted towards the ceiling, all you can do is stare down at Sunghooon and await his next movement, his very calculated movement.

He presses his cold lips against your neck, simultaneously using his hands to slowly unbutton your blouse. The mark he'd left on your neck earlier was as prominent as ever, and it pleased him to know you were okay with him marking you up like this. He swipes his tongue against the sensitive spot, hardening in his pants when you squirm on top of him. 

His nails trace along the bare skin of your waist once he's finished unbuttoning your blouse, your bralette — that was a few sizes too small — fully on display for him. He's practically salivating at the site, his tongue sliding across his canines, completely in awe of your breasts spilling out of the flimsy, white material.

Sunghoon can't unclasp and slide off your bra, or else it'd be awkwardly hanging in the air, and trying to slip it through the handcuffs would take too much effort. Instead, he apologizes under his breath before his hands reach the front of your bra.

"Wait, Sunghoon—!"

Without warning, he stretches the fabric until it finally rips, seemingly pleased with himself if the cocky smirk is anything to go by. "Relax," he says, "I'll buy you a new one."

You don't have time to scold him because before you can even process what's happening, Sunghoon's tongue is swirling around your nipple. You swear at the sudden contact, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his face. It's almost embarrassing how such a simple act already had your head spinning.

His hands trail downward until they reach the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it upwards until it's bunched around your waist. He traces the tip of his finger across your clothes cunt, pleased with how wet you've already gotten without having done much.

Your hips buck up into his hands on instinct, desperate for the friction, borderline craving it.

Sunghoon releases your perked bud in his mouth, looking up at you as he asks, "You want me to stop?"

"No, please don't." You beg.

"So this is okay then, right?"

If your wrists weren't handcuffed to the grab handle, you're sure you would've reached down and choked him for all the teasing. "Yes, Sunghoon, it's okay! Just hurry up and do something!"

Sunghoon shakes his head at you, mumbling, "So impatient." as he moves to lie flat on his back.

You stare down at him, confused, when he doesn't immediately start undoing his pants but instead positions his head right between your thighs.

It's funny, Minjeong claimed Sunghoon wasn't really into giving head and only gave it to her a handful of times during the course of their relationship, claiming he preferred to save it for special occasions.

But yet, here he is, willingly pushing your thighs further apart before pressing his lips against your clothed cunt.

The action sends shivers down your spine, and the handcuffs around your wrist suddenly feel tighter. He presses his tongue flat against you, groaning at the taste of your slick that's soaked through your panties. You grind down on him instinctively, your body trembling with anticipation as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Fuck." You whisper, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration.

The sound of the metal clinking makes Sunghoon chuckle, pressing a final kiss against your damped underwear before mumbling, "Cute."

He makes quick work of sliding your underwear off your legs, tossing them to the 

front seat with a grunt as you wait for him to continue. Sunghoon settles himself between your thighs again, groaning in annoyance as you hover over him. "Stop fucking hovering," he demands, attempting to pull you down directly onto his face, "it's fine."

It's too intimate; you've never even sat on Heeseung's face before, and you're sure this isn't something he's done with Minjeong.

"But, I don't wanna cru- fuck!"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries, forcing you down onto his face and instantly wrapping his lips around your clit. You barely have any time to process that this is completely new territory for you, being this intimate with a man, sitting right on his face while he drags his tongue along your cunt; gathering your wetness and dragging it up towards your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at that, leaning your head against the cold window as your face heats up. This only encourages Sunghoon even further, and his confidence grows, feeling bold enough to tease the tip of his tongue into your hole.

You jolt up at this, biting back a moan and wishing you could reach down and grab a fistful of his hair and properly ride his face. He licks another stripe up your folds, gripping your thighs and holding your body in place when you try to squirm away. 

"Stop trying to run from me," he groans into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver across your body. 

He presses his face further into your cunt, moaning at how much wetter you've gotten since he's started. For a man who apparently wasn't one to eat a girl out, he sure did seem desperate and eager to have you come on his face. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was doing it for his own pleasure rather than yours, which only turns you on even more.

After a few more slides of his tongue, you finally feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs tensing around Sunghoon's head.

"I know you're close," he whispers, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, "go ahead, use me. I know you want to."

He's practically begging at this point, big, wet eyes staring up at you in pure adoration as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. That's your breaking point, the knot in your stomach finally untying itself as your orgasm washes over you.

You let out a moan so loud that your throat hurts shortly afterward, your wrists going limp in the handcuffs as you ride out your high.

Sunghoon doesn't let up until you're practically shaking from overstimulation, your body naturally twitching and squirming away from his greedy mouth as he cleans you up. He pulls away finally, his mouth and chin completely coated with your slick as he leaves a trail of kisses on your bare thighs.

You can't help but stare down at him in awe; he looks completely dazed as if he's running off, nothing but pure desperation and lust for you. You.

"Sunghoon," you say, trying to get his attention, "I…do you keep condoms in here?"

He flutters his eyes open, shaking his head, "No, but 7/11's just down the street. I can go-"

You interrupt him with a shake of your head, "I don't wanna wait; we don't need one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill. Just, please, fuck me already."

It's music to his ears, really.

Sunghoon slides himself back up the seat, reaching up to release you from the handcuffs. You groan at this, having gotten used to them and quite frankly enjoyed the temporary feeling of restriction.

"You liked the cuffs?" Sunghoon questions, dropping your wrists from the grab bar.

"Yeah," you admit, "I liked it more than I thought I would."

He nods at this, and you realize now that one of the cuffs is still clasped around your wrist. Sunghoon also notices this and smirks as an idea forms in his head. "Turn around."

You comply with no further questions, groaning when he suddenly pushes your body down into the seat. He brings your arms behind your back, handcuffing you once more as he lets out a sigh of pleasure. "I knew you'd like it."

Sunghoon pushes your skirt back up, straddling himself around your things after pulling his pants and boxers far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, using the other to teasingly drag his fully-hardened cock across your slick folds.

Sunghoon shivers at this, cursing at the sight as he repeats his movements. He knows he won't last much longer; he was practically seconds away from coming in his boxers just from eating you out, so he really should quit with the teasing for his own sake.

Minjeong had never allowed him to fuck her without a condom, so this type of intimacy was new and overwhelmingly good.

He finally pushes himself into you, his tip alone causing you to bite down on the leather of his seat. You already felt so full, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

"Ah fuck," he groans, "you're so tight, you're so…fuck." He can barely even form a sentence, biting down on his bottom lip as he further inches himself inside of you.

You're not doing any better, feeling as if you're already seconds away from your second orgasm when he's hardly even done anything. It takes a minute before he's fully inside of you, pausing before he leans down and asks, "Can I move?"

"Please, I need you to."

Sunghoon nods at this, pressing a kiss against your ear before sitting himself back up. He angles your hips off the seat but presses your chest further into it, giving you (and himself) the perfect arch to comfortably slide in and out.

The first few thrusts are slow, as expected, but just enough to get you used to his size. Even this was all too much for Sunghoon; he was already dangerously close to his orgasm.

He didn't intend on speeding up his thrusts already, but he really can't help it. Everything about this feels too good. The way your walls perfectly wrap around him, and the way you're moaning and cursing for him to keep going are overwhelmingly good.

"Fuck." He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses you down further into the backseat. He pulls his cock all the way out before pushing himself back in, which you seem to enjoy. He does it a few more times, mostly to humor himself since it's something he assumed you would've been annoyed by.

"Sunghoon," you pant, "I'm close."

"Already?" He asks, pushing your hips downwards until you're lying flat on your stomach.

He tries to come off as cocky and frustrated, but he really is grateful you're already so close to your orgasm, seeing that he felt like he could burst at any given second.

You nod, "Please, keep going."

He doesn't respond, opting to remain silent as you pull his cock out of you before ramming it back in at a pace much harder and faster than before. His thrusts are sloppy and borderline desperate, the sound of skin slapping and grunts filling the air shortly afterward.

The two of you could hardly keep your eyes open, too lost in the pleasure of your approaching orgasms.

Your's hits first, and Sunghoon's follows shortly after, practically filling you up to the brim with his cum. You've never felt so full and warm, heat spreading through your entire body as you slowly calm down and regulate hour breathing.

Sunghoon doesn't feel like moving, but he does anyway, slipping himself out of you with a wince, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the seat of the car. He curses at the sight, stopping himself from leaning forward and eating it out of you.

He undoes both of the handcuffs this time, helping you sit up as you avoid eye contact with each other. "Hold on," he says, re-adjusting his pants and boxers, "I should have a towel or something in the trunk."

Sunghoon steps out of the car, returning a minute later with a towel in hand. He leans down, prepared to clean you up, until you stop him, "It's okay, I got it."

He shakes his head, "I can do it for you."

"It's fine," you say, buttoning up your shirt, "I'd prefer to do it myself, actually."

Sunghoon finally gives in, handing you the towel before leaning over the center console and retrieving your panties from the passenger seat. He waits patiently for you to finish up, instructing you to just drop the towel on the floor as he hands you your underwear.

"Hey, have you…do you think you've sobered up yet?" He asks, watching as you slip your panties back on.

"Yeah, why?"

"Before I met you in the bathroom, I took a few bites of an edible, and I think it's starting to kick in. I think you should drive."

You sigh, mostly because this was not at all what you'd been hoping he'd say. "Drive where? To your place? Then where would I go?"

"I can pay for your Uber home."

"Sunghoon, it's past midnight, and I'm a girl; taking an Uber this late is too dangerous."

"Then drive back to your place; I'll sleep in the car and drive off in the morning."

You groan, "No, Minjeong might visit me in the morning. What'll she think when she sees your car in my driveway?"

"Dammit, YN, then just spend the night at my place. You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch; just please drive us somewhere, for fuck's sake."

Bickering with Sunghoon somehow doesn't annoy you; in fact, it feels almost domestic. Going back and forth like a real couple.

"Fine." You say, climbing into the driver's seat.

Sunghoon's phone falls off the dashboard in the process, now charged at twenty-eight percent, and apparently, a missed text from Minjeong that was sent a few minutes ago.

The jealousy that fills your chest is downright abnormal; Minjeong is your best friend; there's no real reason for you to feel jealous of her in the first place. 

In fact, you shouldn't feel any sort of guilt at all; it's not like they're still together. They've been broken up for three weeks and three days. 

Three weeks. And Three days.

[honeyedmiller]

Sweet Thing | Joel Miller

pairing: jackson!joel x sunshine!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: jackson!joel, smut (unprotected piv), sweet pet names, sex in a semi-public spot, sort of getting caught, no specified ages mentioned. no use of y/n.

word count: 863

synopsis: the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.

divider by @saradika-graphics

“J-Joel,” You whimper, gripping onto his impossibly huge biceps. The fabric of his flannel felt scratchy underneath your desperate touch, and the scrape of the wiry hair on his jaw set your skin on fire.

His teeth nipped at your ear as the heavy drag of his cock came to a nearly unbearable halt; the deep timbre of his voice, even when it’d dwindled down to a mere whisper, sent shivers down your spine.

“Gotta be quiet, sweet thing. Can’t have anyone catchin’ us now, can we?” You bite your lip as he starts to move his hips again, slowly thrusting into you once more.

The squelching sound was so obscene that if your moans and whines didn’t give you away, your arousal would.

It was ironic that you two had found solace in each other. Jackson’s token ray of sunshine and the ever brooding Joel Miller: the most unlikely match there was. It was never meant to happen, but it just… did.

Being around Joel was easy. The man had such a soft spot for you. You’d been nothing but kind and gentle with him when everyone else was afraid. You carried a sparkle in your eye every time you laid your eyes on him, and that’s when he knew. He knew he had to have you.

If the residents of Jackson found out the both of you had been sneaking around the past few months, they’d all lose their minds. There’s no way they’d be able to puzzle together the pieces of your so-called ‘relationship’ with him, but you suspected at least Ellie had a hunch. The girl was smart and had been onto you two for as long as this had gone on.

You couldn’t help yourself, though. Being with a man that only reserved his soft side for you and his fortuitous daughter had you falling faster than you could keep up with, and at first, it truly terrified you.

You succumbed to his pure charm and good looks, though, which is how you ended up here—fucking in a broom closet in the Tipsy Bison because you chose to wear the pretty dress you found on patrol one day that Joel loved oh so much.

The slow drag of his heavy cock had you muffedly crying out his name, the feeling of it too much and not enough all at once. The man was all-consuming, invading every single sense that you had. It was intoxicating and purely addictive, and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him.

“Fuck, baby. Pussy was fuck’n made for me. Y’feel so goddamn good.” Joel’s words are slightly slurred behind his clenched teeth, trying to control his own sounds of pure bliss.

“Joel—” You cry again as he picks up his pace, and he has to cover your mouth with his hand because you cannot control yourself. He made you feel good in a way that nobody else ever has.

“I know baby, I know. Hush up now n’ take what I’m givin’ ya like the good girl I know y’are.” He coos, kissing your temple as he begins to thrust into you skillfully, tilting his body up so his cock hits your g-spot every single time.

Your eyebrows threaded together as your legs started to shake, your impending orgasm licking a flame up your spine as it threatened to spill over. Just like a match to a matchbox, Joel kept dragging and dragging and dragging until you lit aflame. The devastatingly delicious euphoria that ran through your body was truly unmatched as you convulsed around him, cries now muffled by his lips on yours.

His thrusts became sporadic, pulling out of you before grabbing a rag from a shelf to come onto. Not his finest moment, but he didn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours or leave any evidence of your intimate endeavors.

Joel cages you in between his arms as his hands rest on either side of your head against the wall behind you. He buries his face in your neck, catching his breath as he leaves tiny pecks along your pulse point. You mindlessly wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, gently dragging your fingertips against his hot skin while he took some time to recollect himself.

You giggle softly into his ear, kissing his neck once.

“That was fun.” You say, and Joel’s face moves to be in front of yours again. A rare smile curls onto his lips as he rests his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose against your own.

“My sweet girl.” He whispers with a chuckle laced into his words, kissing you once more before tucking his cock back into his jeans. He bends down to pull your panties back up and pulls your dress down past your hips, straightening you out so you don’t look completely fucked out.

Joel turns the knob to the closet, opening the door slowly.

“We gotta stop doing that in public places though, or else we’ll get caught.” You huff.

“Too late.” Tommy’s voice snaps both of your heads in his direction, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as Joel’s burns bright red.

Shit.

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @amanitacowboy

[barleyo]

Your requests are open... you've put the words "Corrupt Cop Daichi" in my brain... Imagine you're just like. Driving on the highway and you're not even speeding but somehow he knows what you look like so he pulls you over because you're a cutie patootie... Dubious consent follows... Daichi in a cop uniform... Reader bent over the backseat of the cop car, door open, fully visible from the road but not caring because CoP dAiChI? AHHhhhhHH? (Idek if this counts as corrupt but cop daichi is cop daichi you know)

It's 9:30 in the morning but it's never too early for Cop Daichi argargargargargarg

Mr. Officer.

Cop! Daichi Sawamura X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: CORRUPT COP DAICHI IS MY EVERYTHING!!! Ugh dirty nasty cops who abuse their power :3 I wanted to make him mean, but my sweet, sweet Daichi could never be mean to a pretty girl... he still gets crazy with power though!

Tags: power play/imbalance, alcohol mention, small age gap (18—23), dub-con, p in v, quickies, coercion n all that good stuff :3

Wordcount: 900-ish

God, you were lucky that you were pretty, because you certainly weren't smart or slick. Daichi knew college kids were stupid, always doing risky stuff for the hell of it, but really? You were too drunk to walk in a straight line, let alone to be behind the wheel of a vehicle. 

He couldn't help but feel the pang of interest he felt when he got a good look at you after pulling you over. With the way you were driving, he was certain you'd be a blind old lady, but no. Just a college cutie. Damn it, it was hard to be stern with those. 

"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked, trite words second nature to him by now. 

If you googled the definition of the word "wasted," your face in that moment would be the illustration accompanying it. 

Your face was red and warmed, no doubt tinted by all the cheap liquor you threw back at whatever frat party you came from. Eyes lazy and half-lidded. Hiccups and inconsolable giggles.

"No," you said, drunken euphoria flooding through your system. "I'm sorry, Mr. Problem, is there an officer?"

"Jesus Christ."

Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose, not entirely sure what to do with you. On one hand, it was his job to take you into the station, take your name down, and rat on you to your parents. Maybe scare you straight with a few nights in a holding cell.

On the other, well, you were a sweet little thing. Drunk and stupid as you may have been, he didn't have the heart to haul you away like a criminal. Girls with pretty faces aren't meant for life behind bars, even if only for a couple of hours. 

"C'mon, let's get you out of here. Step out of the vehicle, please," he ordered weakly, still conflicted. 

You complied, of course, stepping out and stumbling, falling forward. He caught you, letting you hold onto his forearms during your spell of dizziness. 

You stayed in his arms, drunkenly fiddling with the walkie talkie strapped to his shirt while you prattled off whined and pleas.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked while running a hand over his arms. "You're not gonna be a 'cop' about this whole thing, are you?"

He held back a snort, peering down at you. He made no effort to get you off of him, in fact, he rather liked the way you were feeling up on him. His nightly patrol was getting a little boring, and he usually had to deal with violent, dumb-as-hell college guys who drove drunk.

Cute, touchy, drunk, dumb-as-hell college girls were the easier route by far.

"Kinda my job, hon," he replied, struggling to keep a stern tone. "How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"Nothing, I swear," you slurred, shaking your head at him in defense. "Totally sober! Promise!"

Bullshit.

"Yeah, right. 'Nothing' meaning every drink handed to you, I assume?"

"Okay, maybe, but I can drive fine!"

"You almost served into a tree earlier," he deadpanned, placing his hands on your shoulders with an unamused look. 

You giggled right in his face, pressing your warm face against his chest. 

"You're funny."

What the hell was he supposed to do with you now?!

Once he clicked his bodycam off, he knew he was going to give in. He was only a man, and men are weak. Something about you, how easily the situation was playing out— it was too tempting. It almost felt like a set-up, or maybe that was just his guilt and paranoia acting up.

He wasn't alone in this, his buddies in the force pulled sly shit like this all the time. No harm, no foul, right? You get off scot-free and he gets a little something in return. 

Everyone's happy. 

You definitely sounded happy, squeals and moans falling from your mouth while he bent you over the hood of your car. 

He knew he was wrong for this. He didn't care. It was dark out, chances of someone catching him low. Besides, it was hard to focus on anything other than the wet, warm hole clenching over him. 

"Lower your volume," he warned, pace unsteady and sharp. The hand he had wrapped over one of your thighs tightened its grip, warning you. "You want someone to see you like this?"

He could see the back of your head shake 'no,' and could hear your moans start to muffle themselves with a bite of your bottom lip. 

"Awh, didn't mean t'shut you up," his voice was softer, hand running over your hip apologetically. "Lemme hear you, jus' don't get too loud."

He was already sloppy with how he was fucking you, but when he heard the pathetic cry that you let out, his body was inconsolable. He wasn't in control anymore, he just let himself be led by pure lust. 

He pressed a shaking hand on your lower back, deepening your arch for him. He bullied your cervix's tip, acutely aware of how sensitive it was. This was far deeper than any guy had ever reached for you, way deeper. 

An intense flush of pleasure ran over you while you came. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the risk of it all, or maybe just the hot officer doing it to you, but your orgasm felt much stronger than you had felt any other time. The feeling of his cum landing on your ass and the sound of his deep groans were just the cherry on top of it all. 

[candiedstrwb]

MERRY CHRISTMAS KAYLA !

the holidays are hard on both of us , but i hope this makes your day a little sweeter . the biggest and best christmas gift i've ever gotten is your friendship , i love you for eternity , prepare for me to ruin your life later today ! and , merry christmas once again . @almedas

of course , i had to save the mushy stuff for under the read more , because i would NEVER be caught being sappy on main . . . okay now that lie is out of the way let's talk about some things that will always ring true . i associate laura harrier with you , and sierra . i cannot tell you the amount of times i have looked up ' sierra kimberly edit ' or ' sierra kimberly photoshoot ' , when trying to search for the mutual love of our ( and paxton's life ) . i tell everyone in my life about pierra , no one is safe from hearing about the ship that changed my life and brought me the closest friend that i have . you are in so many of my favorite memories , despite the distance that separates us , because i am always thinking about you . you have a permanent residence in my brain , and it only expands the more and more i know you , and write with you , and love you . you're the strongest and most resilent person that i know , no matter what life throws at you , you just keep going . i cannot tell you how much i admire that about you , that ability to pick yourself up , and dust yourself off even when all you want to do is give up . over these past two years , you have become apart of my family . in this life you are my best friend , my sister , my wife , the voice in my head that tells me to do the impulsive decision , and the person i can always turn to . in the next you'll be a girl and i'll be the puppy you take in from the shelter ( and if we're real in this life too ) . i like to think that we take turns being the caretaker . you are the most incredible person i know , and i KNOW you will change the world one day . that's just the kind of person that you are . to end this EXTREMELY long paragraph professing my love for you , here's a list of things i would do to show you how much i love you :

write poems about how beautiful you are , how you are the sun and everything revolves around you .

peel your oranges for you , and get all of the white stuff off .

tell you everyday that you are talented , beauitful , smart , and i will always be proud of you .

eat a blueberry ( i'm deathly allergic ) .

share my life with you .

and honestly if that doesn't scream romance , i don't know what does . you are my platonic soulmate , and i like to think when we met the universe held it's breath , that moment waited it's whole life for us . to end this off the list of things i will ALWAYS associate you with :

laura harrier , y2k , the sims , criminal minds ( specifcially matthew gray gubler & the dynamic between morgan and garcia ) , laura harrier & dylan o'brien , the boys ( a recent edition but still important nonetheless ) , spotify one - liners , almeda street in my hometown , the colors pink and green ( it's giving aka , iykyk ) , nursing , jennifer's body , euphoria , astrology , my seasonal tumblr idenity crisis , our queen zendaya , sad wlw ships , INSANELY talented makeup looks , dead by daylight , the scream franchise ( espescially ghostface ;) ) and the happiest moments of my life .

merry christmas again , i hope your day is as bright as all of the days you've given me , i love you to pieces .

[countlessrealities]

@advnterccs​ sent: ❤ { this time it's my Rick who decides to just take your Rick and push him up against the wall to kiss him fdshkj also because my Rick just had to send this in xD } Kiss the hell out of my muse || Accepting !

The adventure had been a blast. For once they had decided to ditch their Mortys and go on a trip just the two of them. It hadn’t been the wisest choice, since they would be passing in enemy territory and having the cover that the teen’s brains offered would have been helpful, but they had decided that they didn’t care. Or better, even if they wouldn’t have admitted it, they had been hoping to run into some trouble.

The last couple of weeks had been messy, for far too many reasons, and there was nothing more effective to relieve stress that a good old adrenaline rush.

And what a rush it had been. A chase inside an asteroid belt, a shooting inside some creepy lab on some god-forgotten planet, old-fashioned crawling through the ventilation system, harshly sarcastic remarks while being held at gunpoint. And then, the grand finale: blowing the whole place up, and everyone inside with it.

They had managed to put some distance between them and the building before the explosion, but they were still close enough to feel the ground shaking underneath their feet. The air was filled with the pungent smell of chemicals and burnt plastic and the smoke tickled at his nostrils, unpleasant as they came, but Rick didn’t really notice. His heart was still beating too fast, excitement thrumming through his veins and leaving him feeling a little light headed. There was a slightly feral smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and he could taste it on his tongue, so sweet and spicy.

Satisfaction, elation, triumph, euphoria.

His smirk widened as he turned towards his counterpart, intending to make a smart comment and to extend the offer to head off somewhere nice to get celebratory drinks, but he didn’t have the time to speak a word, because he was grabbed without warning and shoved into the closest wall.

A gasp of surprise escaped him and his eyes went wide with confusion. What the hell?

“R-Rick, what the fu-...!” He started to protest, but he was cut off once again, this time by a greedy mouth smashing on his own and a warm body pressing crowding him against the cold cement.

Rick remained frozen for a moment, caught off guard, but he recovered quickly enough, instinct and habit kicking in and replacing the momentarily short-circuit of his conscious mind.

His arms wrapped themselves around his boyfriend’s neck and he pulled him in, lips parting eagerly as he shamelessly moaned in the kiss. How had he not thought to do this himself? It was the perfect ending for their adventure, the best way to unload the lingering sparks of adrenaline that were still making them twitch.

And then there was the fact that there could never be a moment when he wouldn’t welcome a kiss from his other self. Not when the act always felt so good, so right, the physical contact and the intimacy satiating a hunger that had been left unsated for so long that he had thought he would be starving for the rest of his life.

“D-Damn, baby,” he purred as they broke apart, sounding slightly breathless. His eyes were still half-lidded and his hands didn’t hesitate to start roaming on his counterpart’s back. “I-I was thinking that we could go for drinks, b-but maybe we should just spend a few hours in the ship...” His voice trailed off for a moment as the smirk came back on his lips, wider and suggestive. “I-If you get what I mean.”

[seijorhi]

Rabid.

The brainrot was real, guys. Hope you like it :))

Kyoutani Kentarou x female reader

tw blood, violence, implied minor character death, non-con, smut, nsfw

There’s blood splattered across the back of his hands the first time you make the unwitting mistake of catching Kyoutani’s attention. He usually can’t be fucked wasting time wrapping his fists; the skin across one of his knuckles is split and raw from his last job, but most of the blood isn’t his.

And the other guy got off far, far worse.

But he wouldn’t have noticed – it comes with the territory and he’s never really given a fuck whether there’s blood on his clothes or not – if it hadn’t been for that tiny gasp.

That soft, sharp little intake of breath, and like the rabid dog they claim he is, he snaps to the threat.

Nobody else at the table notices, and you seem to realise your mistake, freezing up the moment those honey brown eyes flash and zero in on you. Your throat bobs unsteadily – you look like a deer caught in headlights. Startled. Terrified. 

Kinda fuckin’ adorable, if he’s being honest.

“I– I’m sorry, sir,” you mutter, ducking your head as you set down his drink with a tremor in your hand.

Vaguely, he registers Makki’s choked snort at the honorific – nobody’s ever called him sir before – but he can’t really find it in himself to give a fuck that the two of you have drawn an audience.

Not when you’re still frozen, hardly daring to draw breath at his side. 

You’re new, that much is painfully obvious, but not stupid. You know who he is – who they are, and despite his reputation, he’s never been one to get off on fear or some fucked up version of a power trip; Kyoutani simply likes the feeling of lashing out, beating the absolute shit out of some asshole just because he can.

Because it feels good, gets his blood pumping.

Nobody would lift a finger to help you if he decided to take offence to your little slip up. And truthfully, he couldn’t give a shit – he’s used to people being on edge around him and it’s not like you’ve reacted any other way than how you’re supposed to. 

It’s natural for you to be startled, scared even. But not here, not with them. Here you should know better, because here is filled to the fucking brim with men like Kyoutani. Oh sure, they might be prettier, polished and charming like Oikawa, but you’d have to be a goddamn idiot to think the man hasn’t stepped over bodies he’s put in the ground to get where he is. 

At least Kyoutani never has to pretend to be anything other than what he is.

But a little blood in a place like this shouldn’t raise an eyebrow, and the way you’re staring at the table, eyes cast down and wide; Kyoutani can almost hear you cursing yourself out for your own stupidity. And it strikes him as he stares at you, drinking in every subtle shift in your body language, wondering why you don’t just tuck tail and run off like you so clearly want to, that you really don't belong in a place like this.

“Something the matter, Mad Dog?” a silken voice purrs, and he tears his eyes away from your trembling form to glance back at his boss, sitting at the head of the table. The brunette’s smiling idly, appraising the two of you and Kyoutani feels you stiffen beside him. 

You don’t dare open your mouth, don’t so much as twitch, not even as Kyoutani returns his attention back to you. By now the entire table has quietened down, most if not all of the gathered men staring at you and you – pretty eyes filling with tears, hands clasped together and trembling in front of your dress – look like you just want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. And somewhat selfishly, there’s a part of Kyoutani that wants to keep you there like that.

Not afraid, exactly. Just… there. 

He can’t explain it, doesn’t know why he hasn’t just told you to fuck off back to the kitchen, dismissed you with a grunt like he would have if any of the other servers had made the same mistake. He has bigger shit to worry about than some perceived fucking offence, but he finds himself pausing, drawing this little moment out for a lifetime before finally putting an end to it, “No.”

He jerks his chin, breaking the moment between the two of you to reach for the drink you’d set down before him, but still you don’t move, glancing between him and Oikawa like you’re afraid to move – as if you’re terrified that you’ve read this situation wrong and one wrong step and you’ll just make things worse. It’s so fucking endearing that he almost snorts, but it takes Oikawa’s voice, calm and level and almost kind to shake you out of your frozen state, “Run along now, cutie.”

You scamper off without a backwards glance, and if anybody notices Kyoutani watching you out of the corner of his eye while he nurses his drink, they have the better sense to keep their mouths shut about it.

And honest to god, it’s the last he expects to see of you. He’s not so stupid as to think you landed the job because you genuinely wanted it; people don’t end up in places like this because they have choices, they end up here because somebody somewhere along the line fucked up. 

This city’s filthy, full of irredeemable pieces of shit like him and it takes innocence like yours, chews it up and spits it out. If you were smart, you would have left after your little run-in with him, so why the fuck are you right back in their private room less than a week later, nails biting into your palm and resolutely refusing to meet his eye?

Oikawa’s busy rattling off a list of drinks he wants, but this time it’s Kyoutani who’s frozen in place, staring at you with a scowl that has you shivering even as you nod at the Oyabun. He knows Iwaizumi at least is watching him with some kind of morbid combination of curiosity and concern, can’t find it within him to care as you try and slip from the room, giving him as wide a berth as you can without it seeming rude–

Not wide enough. Before he even registers that he’s moved Kyoutani’s reaching out to grab your forearm – his grip not tight enough to hurt, just to stop you from running off on him again. And the little squeak that leaves your soft looking lips sends a ripple of something electric jolting down his spine, but you know better than to try and pull away.

God, he can feel your pulse racing beneath your skin, every terrified thump of your heart. It’s addictive, he thinks, the feeling he gets just from touching you. 

“Gimme a beer,” he grunts, waiting until you finally meet his eye.

The nervous little nod you give strokes some part of him he hadn’t realised existed. Kyoutani likes you like this; all timid and obedient. A little too much, maybe. 

There’s a sharp elbow in his side courtesy of Yahaba, and he reluctantly releases his grip on you, leaving you to scamper away once more. Cute.

Yahaba makes some snarky comment under his breath and he barely fucking registers it, fixated instead on the skin of his palm; still warm and tingling from your touch. His hands are rough, scarred and calloused, the skin over his knuckles split from another job last night, a little red and bruised – even as he tightens his fingers into a fist they sting just a little.

Guns have their purpose, he’s not against a knife if he’s feeling particularly fucking vindictive, but Kyoutani’s favourite has always been his fists. There’s something about the feeling of skin and muscle giving way beneath his blows, taking all that pent up rage and aggression and letting loose with his fists. It’s a kind of euphoria he’s never found anywhere else; not in women or men or drugs or alcohol. Nothing comes close to the feeling he gets straddling some pathetic piece of shit and beating the absolute fucking crap out of him.

Sometimes if he goes a few days without a fight, he gets a little jittery. Not like the tweakers do, it’s not withdrawal so much as… a building up of restless, rabid energy. He gets on edge, snaps more, lashing out over petty shit until some poor asshole makes the mistake of looking at him the wrong way and Kyoutani just fucking looses it.

He feels it now, that same burning itch under his skin. He’s never thought of his hands as anything more weapons, but touching you, the warmth of your skin, how smooth and soft it was–

Kyoutani wants to do it again. Wants to touch more of you. And he’s not so fucked up yet that he doesn’t realise how twisted this all is, how a guy like him doesn’t belong within a thousand miles of some sweet, cute innocent thing like you. But the world ain’t fucking fair; you’re here and for whatever reason Oikawa’s taken a liking to you and so whenever they’re at the club, you’re the one management send to make sure they’re happy.

And Kyoutani wonders, golden eyes burning a hole into your back as you hastily clear away their empty glasses, whether you realise that if any one of them asked for a dance or for you to get on your knees and blow them, you’d be expected to do that, too.

You might as well be on Seijoh’s payroll now, just be thankful that as far as that side of things go, they’re not the monsters that the rumours make them out to be.

Not that he hasn’t noticed Mattsun’s gaze drifting to your ass when you lean over the table to grab something, the older man shooting him a salacious wink when he notices he’s glaring.

Not that he hasn’t let his own imagination take hold, leaning up against the glass wall of his shower first thing in the morning. His fist pumping along his throbbing cock, wondering what it’d be like to see you on your knees, those pretty eyes full of tears, staring up at him as you swallow him down like the good girl he knows you are.

The thing is, he’s never made all that much of an effort to hide his feelings from the others. He doesn’t give a shit if it makes him the butt of their jokes, doesn’t care what they think about the way he watches you – his attention snapping towards you the moment you slip past the door, purposefully trying to avoid his gaze. Not that it ever does you much good. 

Oikawa hasn’t said shit, and that’s enough of a go-ahead as Kyoutani needs. It’s none of their fucking business anyway. 

You’ve managed to get under his skin, push him to the fucking brink when he goes more than a few days without seeing you. He knows you don’t want any part of this; that you’re still fucking terrified of him. Kyoutani’s never been one to chase after somebody who wants nothing to do with him – there are plenty of women more than willing to spread their legs for Seijoh’s big bad Mad Dog if he wants an itch scratched. There’s no good reason why he can’t get you out of his head, why you’ve sunk your teeth into him and refuse to let go – even when it’s clear that that’s so fucking far from what you intended with the blonde.

It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, it doesn’t change shit; you’re his, whether you’re willing to acknowledge that or not.

And maybe he’s just living with his head up his ass, but he doesn’t quite realise how fucking inadequate this whole arrangement is until he needs a piss one night and ventures out into the club only to see some asshole trying to cop a feel and tug you down to his lap, his friends drunk and howling with laughter as you try to politely escape them. 

Distantly he registers that he recognises the piece of shit as some low level fucking drug lord who’s been all but sucking Oikawa’s dick trying to get a bigger piece of the pie, but in that moment, he honestly doesn’t give a fuck who he is.

Kyoutani just sees red. 

Nostrils flaring, steam practically pouring from his ears, he storms over. And adrenaline’s surging through him with every pounding beat of his heart, every synapse in his body’s electrified, ready to lay into this piece of shit for daring to lay a finger on what’s his.

He wants to beat him bloody, wants to fuck up his face – to whale on him until muscle and bone give way and there’s nothing left but bloody pulp where his head used to be. Him and his fucking friends.

But Kyoutani has his priorities, and he reaches you first, grabbing you by your elbow and ripping you away from them, a muscled arm curling protectively around your waist. And he’s deaf to whatever protests you have, to the excuses the pieces of crap in front of him offer up, can’t hear a goddamn thing over the pounding in his head as he fixes them with a snarl and all but drags you back to their room, shoving you less than gently in through the door.

“Stay here, don’t move until I get back,” he orders, and he loves you, he does, but when you open your mouth to argue, something inside of him tightens and snaps. He grabs you by the jaw, jerking your face up as he crowds in over you, golden eyes ablaze, “Not a fucking muscle, understand?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, crashing his lips down on yours to steal the kiss he’s been waiting fucking weeks for before stalking back out. 

Kyoutani is beyond caring about ramifications, Oikawa’s always given him a fairly loose leash to do as he pleases and if this is what puts an end to that so fucking be it; he’ll take you and go. But he hears Iwa and Mattsun on his heels and neither one of them are trying to stop him as he storms back towards the drug lord and his little cronies, so he figures the boss ain’t too fucking bothered with what he’s about to do.

And maybe if he’d had a clearer head, he might’ve found it funny how quickly the floor clears when he vaults the couch, grabs the asshole by the front of his silk shirt and heaves him forward, sending him careening face first into a table full of drinks. 

With the taste of you on his lips, the memory of this piece of shit’s hands all over you, Kyoutani doesn’t hold back. 

The others are gone by the time he, Iwa and Mattsun return, it’s just Oikawa casually leaning back in his seat, you sitting rigidly in the one beside him, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. 

Kyoutani’s eyes flicker tensely between the two of you – he’s still on edge, still not right. He needs something more to feed that rabid fucking monster lurking beneath his skin, and his Oyabun knows it. 

Oikawa smiles genially, patting your knee for just a moment (and oh, how Kyoutani hates the flash of jealous rage that rears its ugly head when he leans over and whispers something in your ear) before standing up.

“Mad Dog,” he says, eyeing him with a shrewd look he recognises all too well. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He nods at the two behind him and without another word the three of them exit, no doubt to try and smooth over the mess he’d just made.

Leaving Kyoutani alone with you.

And there’s a part of him that’s pissed off, because this was always gonna happen, but fuck, he was gonna make an effort. He’d wanted it to be nice for you… romantic, or at least as romantic as somebody like him was capable of.

You deserve that much.

His blood’s still thrumming, remnants of blind fury and jealousy and possessive need still burning through his veins. The fight wasn’t enough to sate him; it should’ve been – he’d left them in fucking pieces – but then again you’ve been toeing this line for a long, long time, and Kyoutani’s patience only goes so far.

He should at least take you back to his apartment, try and salvage this disaster of a night, but he knows deep down he can’t make himself walk out of here with you without taking what he needs.

He’s still not entirely in control, breathing hard as he stares at you, watches you fiddle with your hands in your lap, refusing to meet his gaze. “Stand up,” he says, his voice a rough growl.

On shaking legs, you obey, eyes flickering towards the doorway behind him, and distantly he wonders what you’re thinking. You’re foolishly naive, he’ll admit that much, but he doesn’t think you’re stupid. You know where this is going, and you must know that there is nobody and nothing that’s gonna stop what’s about to happen. Not even you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and now he’s the one to draw in an unsteady breath. “Strip.”

You blanch, eyes widening in pure panic. And there’s a part of him that feels guilty, that knows he’s scaring you right now and hates himself for it, but any chance of rationality winning out fled the moment he saw somebody else put their hands all over you.

“Strip,” he repeats when you make no move to start taking your clothes off. “Or I’ll rip that pretty fucking dress off myself.”

Kyoutani adores that little catch in your breath, the way you bite down on your bottom lip as you give in, meekly reaching for the zipper at your back.

You’re so fucking beautiful, every mouthwatering inch of you. Tentatively, you glance up at him after your dress hits the floor, as if you’re hoping that that’ll be enough, that he doesn’t want to see all of you. Any other time, and the sight of you in your matching set of lingerie might’ve been enough to calm him, but it’s not what he needs tonight. 

His scowl deepens, and you’re clever enough to read between the lines. Your bra goes first, pretty lace panties joining the small pile of clothes on the floor a moment later. 

Good girl.

His eyes darken as he stares, hungrily taking you in. Soft tits, nipples pebbling under the cool air, he’s dying to touch them, suck on them, mark them up nice and fuckin’ pretty. The gentle swell of your ass, smooth, supple thighs he can’t wait to get his hands on, and that cute little cunt of yours, all his. His to play with, his to tease, his to claim. Fuck, this is better than all the images he’s conjured up of you in the heat of the moment, stroking his cock to get off with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. He wants to compliment you, tell you how perfect you are, how cute you are – trembling naked in front of him, but he’s beyond words right now, hanging onto his control by a fucking thread as his cock twitches in his pants, all that blood rushing south.

You look like you’re about to burst into tears as you swallow, taking in a quick, hitching breath. “Kyoutani,” you begin in a soft, tiny voice–

And that last little thread snaps.

He’s on you before you can stop him, spinning you around and roughly slamming your hips up against the table. There’s no time to be soft or gentle, no time to even take off his pants, he just shoves them down to his thighs and reaches for his cock.

Fuck, he’d wanted to eat you out, to stuff you full of his fingers and make you cum on them first, get you nice and stretched out, but he’s still too wound up. Kyoutani needs to be buried inside of you, needs to fuck you – he’ll make it up to you afterwards, he swears it.

He’ll treat you like a fucking princess, just be good for him now. 

And the scream that shatters that calm night air should tear at him – he doesn’t want to hurt you, not ever, it’s his job to protect you – but he can’t focus on that when your pussy’s clamping down around his fat cock, a dizzying heat enveloping him as your walls flutter and squeeze against the unwanted intrusion.

It feels like fucking heaven. Kyoutani’s hands are everywhere; your tits, your ass, squeezing reassuringly at your hip when a broken sob leaves your lips. And he’s kissing at your shoulders, nuzzling at your neck even as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin, desperate to be as close to you as he can as his hips draw back and he pounds back in, grunting like a beast in heat.

He fucks you savagely, your hips slamming against the table with every thrust – there’ll be bruises no doubt, but he’ll look after those too. He swears to fucking god, he’ll take such good care of you. You’re gonna be his girl. You are his girl.

It’s easier than it should be to drown out your agonised cries and pleas for him to slow down, to chase his own pleasure within your tight, wet heat, his cock ramming up against your cervix with every stroke. 

He loves you, loves the feeling of being inside of you – fuck, Kyoutani doesn’t think he ever wants to leave. His fingers find your clit and you cry out, a shudder wracking your body that almost has him seeing stars with the way your pussy tightens and convulses around him in response. He loses his rhythm as he nears his end, hips jackrabbiting into your poor, abused cunt as his balls tighten.

You’re slick now, cunt drooling around him as he fucks you hard and fast, lewd slaps echoing out with every brutal thrust. Kyoutani knows he’s holding you too tight, knows it’s probably hurting but he can’t fucking care when he’s so close and you feel so fucking good–

His teeth sink into your neck as that blinding pleasure takes hold; his entire body seizing up, abs tightening as his orgasm slams into him. Kyoutani cums with a hissed snarl, crushing you against him as thick, warm spurts fill your perfect little cunt right up. He fucks you through it, a slow, lazy grind of his hips against yours as he milks his orgasm for all it’s worth, pressing gentle, soothing kisses along your collarbone while you sniffle and sob pathetically.

“Love you,” he grunts quietly – truthfully – letting your exhausted body collapse back against the table. And it’s now he regrets not having taken you home to do this on an actual bed, just so he could lie you down somewhere soft afterwards and curl up beside you. 

Still, there’s not much he can do but try and comfort you as best he can, rough fingers running soothingly up and down your back as he waits for you to calm down. He pauses after a moment though, staring oddly at his hands.

There’s blood smeared across his skin, caked under his nails, splattered up his tattooed forearms. And Kyoutani can’t help the satisfied smirk that tugs at his lips as he leans over to kiss your shoulder again, his cock still stuffed inside of you. 

Most of it isn’t his.

And the other guy got off far, far worse.

[pleasantanathema]

Zeke Yeager | Give and Take

Pairing: Zeke Yeager x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Spitting, Degradation, Established Relationship, Smoking Cigarettes, Zeke has leather gloves 

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read more fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. 💛

          “I’m going to devour you,” the leather was cold, the black stitching methodically tracing over naked skin, “piece by little piece.”

           Gloved fingers pressed into your cheeks, “Open your mouth.”

           But you liked denying him, got the same sick pleasure brewing in your stomach that he did from the chase.

           He had you on your knees—again. He always liked you in some subservient position, something that made it look like you were willing. You could still smell his cigarette smoke from your place on the floor, the cherry burning like hellfire in a dark room. Zeke leaned forward on his couch, thighs spreading wider, thumb sinking deeper into your soft cheek.

           “Open your fucking mouth. And I swear to god if you say ‘make me’ I’ll unhinge your fucking jaw.”

           You reluctantly did as you were told, even letting your tongue loll out of your mouth just how he liked. The taste of leather, of pine and tar and something chemical, hit your tongue, his gloved thumb and index finger pulling at the wet muscle, “and I want you to say thank you, this time.”

           There was no time to protest, the muffled sound of swishing hitting your ears just before a string of spit pooled against your pulled, awaiting tongue. It tasted like smoke and ash, like the menthols he smoked. It always tasted the same, tasted like Zeke.

           He released your tongue and you made a show of swallowing thickly, letting that gulp satisfy him.

           You didn’t give him thanks. You didn’t want to, just like you told yourself you didn’t want him.

           “One day you’ll do as you’re told,” his glove wrapped around your throat, thumb pressing below your jaw as he pulled you up, had you clambering into his lap.

           He was fully clothed, pristine dress shirt untucked from designer pants, brands only a conceited business man wears in winter. And that’s just how he liked it; he felt the power in having you strip in front of him and kneel before him naked. Even if it meant your drooling pussy would leave a stain on his trousers before he was done.

           “Why don’t you see how you taste?” You pulled at his blonde head, fingers tying in his hair like knots.

           Glasses glinted in time with his glare, something snarky ready to spill from curling lips, only to be stifled when you plucked the cigarette from his mouth to puff on it yourself. Smoke filled your lungs and nicotine made your head feel high, fuzzy, just enough to cement your courage.

           “Open your mouth,” you mimicked him, pads of your fingers pressing into bearded cheeks.

           “Dangerous game you’re playing, kid.”

           “What? Afraid you’ll like it?”

           You didn’t wait for his smart answer. When full lips parted, you pushed your open mouth against his, letting spit drool onto his tongue and spill from the sides of his mouth. The leather of his gloves warmed against your hips as he gripped you tighter in response, hard cock straining against his belt.

           The cigarette in your hand felt heavy as you kissed him, sloppy with spit and messy with mewls and groans. For a moment you thought about ashing the smoldering stick against his skin, to watch him burn and hiss. But you weren’t mean, not like him. Instead you let it drop carelessly into the wood of the floor, left to fade out as you two came alive.

           “Think you’re clever,” Zeke purred into your mouth, coarse hairs of his beard scratching at your cheeks, his fingers skimming over your hips, thumbs circling over your lower stomach before venturing farther south, “stupid little whore.”

           He didn’t even prep you, he knew he didn’t have to, already knew you were wet and willing as he pushed two gloved fingers inside of you. You gasped as he breached that first tight ring of muscle, your hand in his hair twisting as your back arched from the pleasure. He pumped the digits a few times, letting your slick coat and stain expensive leather. Those long fingers curled inside of you, felt both foreign and familiar as the thick textile petted your most sensitive, spongy spots.

           “Fuck, that’s not fair,” you whined as his other hand wrapped around your breast, leather creaking as he toyed with your nipple.

           “All’s fair in love and—”

           Your nails scraped against his face in warning, “Don’t finish that. This isn’t—” you lost your words when his thumb swiped across your clit. Hot, piercing pleasure raced down your legs, making them shake. Your knees sunk deeper into the cushions and you held on to slim, broad shoulders for balance.

           “Oh please, you love my fingers stuffed in your cunt,” your head fell as he spoke, panting against his neck as he continued his assault, “and let’s not forget how much you love my cock.”

           You were ready to melt, little drips and pulls of ecstasy blooming over your body and following his cruel fingers. He spread his fingers apart inside of you, slick sloshing and squelching with every push of his hand, lewd sounds making you whimper as you tried to tighten your muscles and hold back an impending orgasm. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of making you cum on his fingers—again.

           “I feel you squeezing. Fuck, want that tight pussy on me. Unbuckle my belt.”

           Your hands acted on their own accord, sliding down his chest as he continued to play with you, your hands fumbling with the metal frame before pulling at his button and zipper. You masked the hitch in your breath by sucking at his neck when your hand snaked around his fat cock. It was unfair that he was given something so big to back up his attitude.

           “Getting needy?”

           You didn’t have to answer, he got his satisfaction from feeling your teeth bite into his throat when he replaced the thumb on your clit with the heel of his palm, letting you grind down against him for friction as his fingers speared up into you. You were so close, so, so close to falling off the edge, the steady build of orgasm ready to burst with just the right touch.

           But Zeke had the power to take away that pleasure, and he did, removing his fingers from your hole and swatting your hand away from his cock so he could pump the shaft and smear your slick across the head. Just as he was able to take, he was able to give, not wasting time to pull your hips down to have you start sucking in his cock.

           “Z-Zeke,” it was just a hot breath mumbled into his throat, your sanity fading as he slowly started to fill you. Your pussy burned from the spread, every thick vein pumping against your walls and making you crazy. He always felt so good, like liquid sin, like something that crawled out of Pandora's box that you weren’t supposed to have.

           “Like how my name sounds in your mouth,” he grunted, head falling back against the sofa as his gloved thumb found your clit as your pussy fluttered around half the cock inside of you, “say it again and I’ll let you cum right now.”

           You, however, hated how his name filled the spaces in your mouth, hated how it felt too heavy on your tongue, hated how it was so stupid that his name was just Zeke. Not Ezekiel. Not even fucking Zachary. Just Zeke and all his arrogance and pride and unbearable hubris. But you’d be damned if he didn’t have the best, most filling cock, one that was making your mouth go dry even as he continued to sink inside of you.

           Your lips found his again, letting his eager tongue lick at your teeth and swallow your sounds.

           “Please, Zeke, pl-ah,ah,” he drew fast circles on your clit, open and ready for him to abuse from where it was spread over his cock.

           You broke within seconds, screaming, clenching, clawing at his shirt as you were punched in the gut with euphoria. You felt too tight, like you were wringing the life out of him as you went numb with pleasure and creamed around him.

           Zeke was caught up in your waves, being drug down into your current, even though his cock was barely seated inside of you.

           “Holy fucking shit, s-so good, fuck, fuck.”

           Your body took from him just like he took from you, the pride draining from his face as you milked his cock from the strength of your orgasm alone. You were sure that your bliss extended just from the sweet burst of victory you felt in your chest, a smile breaking over your face as your high spiraled.

           “God, you’re so fucking weak,” you chided, feeling his cum start to leak down his cock to pool in blonde curls. Your wet cunt finally took all of him in, making him groan from the sensitive feel of having you envelope him fully. His glasses were slipping down his nose as he stayed silent, chest full of deep breaths.

           “I’m just getting started,” he rocked your hips in his lap, cockhead brushing your walls, “want you dripping with my cum for days.”

[wandaswifeyforlifey]

Hi, I wonder if you could do this for MJ and female reader? The two can meet after the blip, on the school trip they are talking, getting to know each other and MJ falls in love with her. they share a hotel room in Venice and the reader puts makeup on MJ (like the euphoria scene), the day they go to the opera they sit together and when the opera is over they are crossing the bridge together and MJ shares their feelings . You can add more moments and parts of the trip if you have any ideas. Thanks! (Sorry for my english, in not fluent.)

A/n: Sorry it took so long to write it, I just had a bit of writer's block for a while but I'm back! This was actually really fun to write too. thank you! And feel free to send in any more requests!

Ship: MJ x Reader

Word count: 1.2k (got a lil carried away but I will make no apologies)

After the blip, everything was worse. The people you loved had gone and you would have no explanation as to why or whether they were coming back. All of your friends had gone, your family was halved and some of the worlds mightiest heroes had gone. They had been your last hope too. The Avengers. And it stayed this way for 5 years, though it felt like longer.

When everyone came back it was so chaotic. There were people crying, laughing, arguing. You were just glad there was a possibility things could go back to the way they were. Once everyone got used to things again you quickly became friends with some new, but old, people. Peter Parker was really sweet and kind, Ned Leeds was funny and smart and MJ, well, she was perfect. You and MJ were definitely the closest. She would pass you notes in class that were pessimistic or sarcastic or just funny. You knew she loved you back, but not in the same way.

A school trip was coming up too. Your class was going to go on a journey across Europe starting with Venice. The flight was pretty boring because MJ got seated with Brad and you had to sit next to Flash in the window seat. He immediately fell asleep and began to snore. MJ caught your eye and passed you a look of sympathy but you knew she was trying not to laugh really.

Afterwards, you guys went on a bus journey to the most beautiful hotel you’d ever seen.

“Not gonna lie, I’m pretty surprised they could afford this.” MJ came up behind you and you jumped a little.

“Jesus, MJ, you scared me!”

“Why are you so on edge? Relax for once.” She replied comedically but you could sense the hint of concern. You knew exactly why you were on edge, you had to share a bedroom with her for the next 3 days and you couldn’t lie, you were petrified of something slipping out.

“Hey, hey! I need your attention!” shouted Sir but as usual no one listened.

“Could everyone shut up for a second!” MJ shouted and everyone turned silent. That was just one of the reasons you loved her, she was quiet but could easily take control of the room if she needed to.

“Uh… well, thank you, Ms Jones. So tonight we will be going to… the Opera!”

As he said that you felt the excitement rise in the room only to be diminished as soon as the word ‘Opera’ left his mouth. There were groans and sighs but through all of that, you heard a slight squeak of excitement leave MJ’s mouth.

“You’re excited about the Opera?” you questioned.

“Yes obviously! The Operas in Venice are supposed to be some of the best in the world,” she responded.

Everyone walked off to their rooms, you along with them.

When you got there MJ must have gone off to chat with Ned and Peter so you began to unpack your bag and get changed into some nicer clothes. The door swung open and MJ walked in with a very panicked look on her face.

“Where’s Betty? I’ve been looking for her for ages and I have no idea where she is and I can’t really do makeup but I want to look nice tonight and-” she blurted out.

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down it’s ok. I can do your makeup if you like?” You knew you were just going to dig this hole deeper but you had to help her, she never usually looks this frantic. You got out some eyeshadow and lipstick that matched the dress she’d brought.

“So why were you so worried about looking good tonight?” you ask as you begin putting on the eyeshadow.

“I don’t know, I guess there’s just someone I want to impress…” she replies.

“Ooh! Do you have a little crush? You have to tell me now.”

I would tell you if I knew you felt the same, MJ thought.

“No! Then it wouldn’t be a secret.”

“Oh come on,” you say, “You know you can tell me anything.”

“No really, this needs to be a secret.”

“Ok, I’ll give it a rest.” you laugh.

As you began putting the lipstick on her, your mind couldn’t help but wander. To your dismay, you were snapped out of your thoughts when she asked why you’d stopped.

“Well, we better head downstairs otherwise we’ll hold everyone up,” you said.

“Ok, you head down I just need to put my shoes on and grab my bag.”

You were wearing a black slim dress that stopped around the middle of your thighs and MJ was wearing a cream dress that went just below her knees. As you saw her come down the stairs your jaw dropped. She was gorgeous. Everything else in the room disappeared for a moment, and she was the centre of it all but that moment couldn’t last forever and you had to drag your eyes away and listen to the teacher telling the class the rules for their opera visit.

Everyone took their seats as they arrived at the Opera house. It didn’t take very long for the opera to begin and the audience became hushed. You turned to see MJ’s face light up at what was being performed on-stage, although after a while you saw that happiness start to fade and you weren’t sure why. From her body language, she seemed quite anxious so you whispered to her.

“Do you want to go and get some fresh air? There’s a beautiful bridge outside, we could go out there and chat for a bit?”

She took a deep breath and nodded to you. You knew it was easy for her to feel a little claustrophobic in busy places.

The cool air hit you as soon as you left the main doors of the building. It was already dark outside and the stars slowly appeared one-by-one while your eyes adjusted.

“Do you want to talk?” you asked.

“Actually, yeah. I kinda need to tell you something and I was planning on doing it earlier but the right time never really came. I think tonight might be right though.”

Your heart jumped in your chest with the hope that it would be the same thing you had been wanting to tell her.

“Look, Y/n, I really like you and it’s been killing me, not telling you, because I was always so worried that it would make things awkward if you didn’t feel the same. But this night seemed so perfect and I was also kind of worried that I messed it up when I was freaking out in the Opera house but it really just helped things fall into place. If you don’t feel the same that’s fine I just needed to get this off my chest.” she said, surprisingly calm.

You were speechless. After all of your paranoia and fear towards this conversation, it all seemed to go perfectly.

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me!” you confessed with a huge smile appearing on your face. She put her hand on your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss, you had no problem following suit. This moment, you were sure would be the happiest moment of your life, hearing the one person you love the most say they love you back.

[ode-to-joy]

Can you write a kaz x reader one shot where reader is a kleptomaniac and it acts up when they're stressed so he'll just notice them stealing jesper's rings and nina's waffles and even taking his coat before he says something? Thanks!

trinkets - kaz brekker

pairing: kaz brekker x kleptomaniac!reader

summary: fluff, idk what to call this but basically kaz talks to a reader with kleptomania? i wrote this and i'm also confused

a/n: thank you so much for the request! sorry that this is a little short plus there might be some mistakes in the grammar, i switched from past tense to present tense in the middle of writing lol. i changed some of the things that the reader takes because of some of the research i did and i'm not sure how well i did depicting kleptomania so if anything here is offensive i'll make sure to change it <3

warnings: please don't read if kleptomania triggers you! stay safe :)

it started off small, at first. y/n would take small things, worthless items. it was calming, soothing almost. it didn't matter what it was. all that mattered was the wonderful rush that occurred during the theft, the victory and rush of adrenaline that they experienced from swiping things from seasoned criminals with a lifetime's worth of knowledge in sleight of hand, people who snatched thick wallets out of fat mercher's pockets for a living.

the only thing that they could compare it to was the same rush jesper received whenever he was caught in a gunfight, the intoxicating euphoria that came with the acquiring of each thing she took.

the guilt that came after however, was something that y/n would do anything in the world to rid themself of. the box full of trinkets rattles in their hands, filled to the brim with items they pilfer off of their friends and strangers wandering the streets of the east stave or gambling at the crow club.

the ones from their friends hurt the most. nina has been complaining about her missing hair pins for months. just that morning at breakfast, jesper mentions that some of his rings that had gone missing. ones that y/n had taken from his nightstand.

it triggers something inside of them, though. the mention of jesper's rings bring back a craving for the rush they receive whenever they take something, and y/n's eyes zeroes in on the first thing that comes into their line of sight. the crow figurehead on kaz's cane. there is a pattern, they had already realized a while ago. all the things they take have some sort of metallic finish to them. from nina's steel hair pins, jesper's golden rings, inej's copper brooches, to the screwdrivers they take from wylan's messy workshop. they always say to themself that they some day would return the things. some day. and now there is kaz's silver cane.

as y/n cradled the figurehead they'd taken from the top of kaz's cane, the everlasting wave of guilt crashes over them. this is kaz. kaz, who had saved their life years ago when they were lying half-dead in an alley, begging for meager scraps of food and pickpocketing strangers on the street for money. and kaz would know. kaz was too smart, too intuitive not to know that it was they who had took the crow figurine.

the next time kaz calls the crows to meet up, he asks to speak with y/n privately.

there is an uncomfortable silence for a couple moments before he speaks.

he simply says, "you should return the things. i know someone who had the same problem. you can talk to them about it."

his tone is a decibel softer than usual. they talk.

kaz is exceptionally good at listening, y/n realizes. there's a calming nature about him, something that y/n would never had thought of. the guilt, the shame, everything flows right out of their mouth. by the time the sun sets, kaz already knows everything, and y/n leaves the room in brighter spirits than they had for months before. at the end of the day, the shoebox hidden at the bottom of their bed is filled with nothing but air.

[tacobacoyeet]

(im)pure hatred | r.l. x reader

a/n: whew. this was fun to write. this is loosely based off of a request i got earlier for remus x slytherin!reader. not exactly where i was going with it, but shit happens, i guess?

warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, degradation, a bit of orgasm denial, profanity, angry remus being hot as fuck

“You know what, Lupin? Just because you’re smart doesn’t mean that nobody else is. Get that through your thick skull. Arrogance will take you nowhere, you hear me?” As y/n’s voice resonated throughout the potions dungeon as it did daily, the entire class collectively let out a sigh. It was the only thing the class of mixed Slytherins and Gryffindors would ever come to agree on. Why Slughorn still hadn’t moved Remus Lupin and y/n y/l/n from the same table, they would never know.

“Oh, so now you want to blame me?! Last i checked, y/l/n, you were the one who crushed the beetles instead of chopped them, and now our potion is going to be messed up and it’s all your fault! You know what? You’re nothing but a-” Much to the entire class’s relief, Remus’s shouting was cut off by Slughorn’s disgustingly cheery voice calling for dismissal. But even as he wished everyone a good day and reminded them of their homework, Remus and y/n were only focused on one thing: finishing their argument. Their constant banter continued as they made their way out into the corridor. It didn’t help that they had their next class together as well.

“What am i, huh? What were you going to call me? Am I a bitch? Am I a cunt? What do you think, you absolute piece of sh-” Remus had heard enough. Fuming, he slammed y/n up against the wall and suddenly, their tongues were fighting for dominance and neither of them were giving up. Without stopping, y/n swiftly pulled the both of them into the nearest supply closet, not caring who saw. She was going to teach Remus a lesson, or so she thought.

Hands steady, Remus made quick work of removing all of y/n’s clothes as y/n did the same for him. Pulling apart for a split-second, Remus looked deep into y/n’s eyes.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, of course I do you ass! Of course now is when you care what I th- ah!” Remus didn’t have time for y/n’s angry comments. Without her even realizing that he had relieved her of her undergarments, Remus rammed into her. “Look at you, you absolute slut. You’re so wet already. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted my thick, long cock in your tight cunt? You wanted to hear how much of a brat you are?” Remus’s pace increased as he caught sight of the beautiful mess in front of him.

“Please, Remus, I need more! I need your fingers, please, more!” y/n’s needy whimpers did nothing to ease Remus’s speed. If anything, he thrusted even harder. Moving one of his large hands to her throat, Remus only grew angrier.

“Greedy bitch.” He slapped her, moving his hand to toy with her throbbing clit. It was too much for her. She needed release, she wanted to let go.

“Please, Sir! Can I cum? Please let me cum, I need it, I need to, please, Remus-”

“No.”

That one simple word threw y/n off completely. She wanted to be angry, she really did. She wanted to be spiteful, she wanted him to feel the same way but in that moment, the only thing she could focus on was the way Remus’s dick arched perfectly to hit her g-spot over and over and over again, satisfying her insatiable desire the way nobody else could- she didn’t even notice the tears streaming down her face as she nonsensically begged Remus to “please let me cum, please!”

“You want to cum? Go on then, cum for me, you disgusting whore. Cum for me. Say you’re sorry.”

Riding out on pure euphoria, y/n was a blubbering mess as she screamed out apologies while Remus came into her soaking pussy. As both of them came down from their high, Remus just barely heard her whisper:

“I still hate you, you know.” taglist- drop an ask to join!: @randomoutsiders, @fathermarty, @carrotjoe

[kodzukenscorner]

Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa during a blackout (NSFW)

anon asked: hi!! can you please do kuroo, ushijima, & sakusa during a blackout if u wanna add a little nsfw thats always nice too :))) 💕

a/n: omg 😭  the blackout request was one of the first ones i’ve ever done on here and finally we’re doing a part two!! thanks anon 💕

wc: 1,866

✶   ✶   ✶   ✶   ✶

Kuroo

Study dates were a norm for you and Kuroo

He may be a pain in your ass sometimes but that didn’t change the fact that he was also a nerd at heart

You were finding it to be very difficult to keep your focus on the work in front of you

Kuroo had already tried everything, he bought your favorite snacks, promised you could watch your favorite movie afterwards, anything to get you to focus

In the end he made do by saying you could get a quick kiss after you got a problem right and once you were completely done he would give you a proper kiss

That was enough to convince you because Kuroo’s kisses always had you melting into him

And it wasn’t everyday that he just offered them up without teasing you first

You were finally focusing on your work while Kuroo quietly explained some things to you when everything suddenly got dark

You both looked up in confusion and Kuroo went over to the window 

Some idiot had backed their car into a utility pole and knocked the power out for half the street

He groaned and sat down next to you looking over at your textbooks

“Let’s take a break, you can’t do your work in the dark”

“Can I still get my kiss?”

Your eyes adjusted enough to the dark to notice the sly smile spreading across his face 

“Well, you have been very good, so I guess you earned a kiss. Come here”

He patted his lap and you giddily straddled him

He took your chin between his fingers and brought your lips to meet his

Kissing Kuroo always started slow and languid then before you knew it, his tongue was sliding into your mouth while he sucked on your lower lip

He always had control and you happily let him do what he wanted 

You felt his hand move from your chin under your shirt to caress your sides

He pulled away when he felt you let out a content sigh

“You know, you didn’t get any problems wrong today. I think you deserve a reward”

He made quick work to undo the button on your jeans and slid them off of you

He didn’t bother taking off his own pants and just pulled them down enough to release his hard cock

He moved your underwear to the side and brought you down on his throbbing dick

He watched your face under the moonlight contort in pleasure as you sank down on him

His cock twitched as he saw the look of pure euphoria on your face when he finally bottomed out

“My smart kitten” He mumbled into the crook of your neck as he started to buck his hips upwards

Kuroo always liked setting a fast pace when you were riding him so he could see you bounce on him

And you loved it because he always managed to fuck you deeper than he normally did, hitting all the right spots, sending you into a dizzying frenzy

As your hands gripped onto his shoulders, trying to ground yourself while Kuroo crashed his hips into yours, you promised yourself you would study much more diligently

If this is how he was going to reward you for getting your homework right, you were going to be a straight A student from now on

Ushijima

You weren’t even together when your power went out

You were chatting on the phone together, even though you were the one who was doing most of the talking

But Ushijima has always been a good listener, and he actually pays attention to what you have to say

You were in the middle of a random story when suddenly all the lights in your room went out

You went silent on the line and Ushijima spoke up for the first time in a couple minutes asking if everything was alright

After looking around the rest of your home you told him the power had gone out

“Hmmm, my power is still on, maybe it’s just your area”

“Toshi, it’s kinda of creepy being here alone, could you come over?”

You could hear him hum as he paused for a minute

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes, don’t move around so you don’t get hurt”

You happily agreed and patiently awaited his arrival

You nearly jumped our of your skin when you heard his knock at the door but went to welcome him quickly and carefully

Once he stepped inside he took your hand, leading you back to the room so you wouldn’t trip on anything

He made himself comfortable on your bed, gesturing for you to join him

You excitedly laid next to him, resting your head on his chest

As much as you loved him, Ushijima wasn’t always the most outwardly affectionate person out there so you relished in this rare moment of intimacy

Your body loosened up under the soft touch of his hand grazing along your arm and he could feel it

You had been uneasy sitting alone in the dark and he felt guilty for not being here to comfort you sooner

He started placing soft kisses on the crown of your head and you purred in delight 

He was glad it was too dark to see anything or you would have caught a rare glimpse at one of his genuine smiles 

You had begun to drift off so you didn’t even notice when his hands started to travel farther down to caress your thighs 

It wasn’t until his hand made contact with your crotch did your eyes shoot open

Again, he isn’t the most affectionate person but when he gets in the mood you know he’s going to absolutely ravage you

You looked up at him and as your eyes adjusted to the dark you could see the lust in his

You gulped and he took that as the initiative to pin you under him and nearly rip your clothes off

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips just at the idea of him being so eager to wreck you

Your mind was so clouded with lust you didn’t realize he had stripped you both of your clothes until you felt his hard cock teasing your entrance 

His lips attached themselves to the sensitive skin on your neck, leaving what you were sure were going to be very dark marks soon enough

“You know I love you right?” He mumbled lowly against your skin

“Yes - ah I know, please Toshi...” You arched your back, begging him to fuck you

He knew he didn’t have to say anything else and slid his cock into you with ease

No matter how many times you two have done this you never get used to his impressive size 

Usually he gives you a moment to collect yourself and get used to him but tonight he was hellbent on showing you how much he could ruin you

He started a merciless pace, it wasn’t fast but the way his hips rammed in yours had you seeing stars

His grip on your sides was surprisingly gentle while you clawed at his back trying to calm yourself 

The embarrassment you would normally feel at hearing the lewd sound of your skin slapping against each other and the squelching that echoed through the room was completely thrown out the window

All you cared about was the way his cock hit all the right spots every time

And the thick vein you could feel rubbing against your walls was enough to throw you over the edge

You prayed that the power never came back on

Sakusa

This was honestly one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made

You were just lounging around with Sakusa when you suggested watching a movie together

He nodded and let you make the selection and you opted for a horror movie

Usually you were fine with horror movies, you did get scared every now and again but no more than the next person

What you were not counting on was the storm brewing outside

You could see the sky beginning to darken and the distant sound of rumbling thunder

Sakusa seemed unbothered by it all and you wondered if he ever got scared

You quietly shifted closer to him as the winds outside got worse and the movie got more intense

A sudden gust of wind caused the windows to rattle and you jumped in surprise

At this point you were right next to Sakusa and he put a reassuring hand on your thigh before turning his attention back to the movie

He wasn’t able to focus long because another gust of wind knocked the power out and you clung to his arm as you were both shrouded in darkness

You heard Sakusa sigh as he brought his free hand to pet your head

“What’s wrong? You were the one who picked the movie”

“I didn’t think the power would go out! What if that creepy guy from the movie comes out of nowhere?”

He pulled your head against his chest and let you rest there for a minute

“Don’t think about things like that”

“I can’t help it Omi! It’s in my head now”

“Let me take your mind off of it then”

You opened your eyes that had been screwed shut and realized you still couldn’t see a thing

Not that it mattered because you soon felt Sakusa’s gentle hand guide your face so he could connect his lips to yours

For someone who wasn’t big on physical affection, Sakusa was one of the best kissers, slow and sensual and just the perfect amount of roughness

You pressed your body as close to his as you could possibly get

His hand slid down to your waist and you jumped at the light touch

“Relax. It’s just me” He whispered against your lips where he placed soft kisses

He pushed your back down against the couch and gently removed all your clothes and his own soon after

He made sure to leave kisses on every expanse of bare skin he uncovered

Suddenly all your worries and fears melted away under his soft lips, all you were focused on was him

He hovered over you, peppering your face with more sweet kisses

It wasn’t everyday he was this gentle and loving with you so you reveled in every moment and every touch

You squirmed under him when you felt him suck on your neck and you could feel his erection pressing against your thigh

“Kiyoomi” You whined quietly

“I know, I know. Be patient, love” 

He kissed your jawline and started slowly pushing his cock into you

Once you started letting out soft moans he quickly snapped his hips and fully sheathed himself inside of you

The sudden change of pace had your back arching up, urging him to keep going

He started a slow put forceful pace, his hungry gaze never leaving your eyes

Even in the darkness you could see the pure adoration he held in his eyes as his cock stretched you out in the most perfect way possible

“I love you Kiyoomi”

“I love you too scaredy cat”

[minjungfmd]

famed verification — don’t

summary — a toss in of a random song she said she’d take part in. doesn’t expect it turn into hours of replaying old memories. warnings — none wc — 638 (not including lyrics)

recordings take a break, she just loses herself in the process. loses any semblance of creative liberation, along with any melody that comes from her two hands. three hours into staring at the screen, and she’s left still with a tabula rosa canvas — the only direction: try again.

right timings occur when the rap on the door pries herself away from the minutes of self-agonizing frustration, her eyes peek past to the visitor. 

an old friend, she welcomes with open arms. motions to the empty sofa lying in the studio (as if it’s her own, this is no home. this is a makeshift prison).

“what brings you to my side of town?”

“a proposition — a song, your song actually. with the catalyst member.”

“so, i’ve heard.”

meeting rooms, and exploitation of a fundamental friendship as a storyline for cheap tv. it sells, makes her into another product, tacking on another reminder of things to do when her response is low, and she’s thwarted hours in creating anything of substance. 

yet, one toss of a usb, and one wry smile yanked from a producer friend. she knows, it’s a proposition for another game. 

“instructions and rough base of the song is there. make use of time, and maybe — i’ll stop by with a coffee when you’re not forced to be here.”

-

read.txt

song about dwindling lovers, alcohol — courage? or the start to the downfall? rap written as a base to frame, see what you make do with it. if not, guess i’ll have to write the rest. but i’m lazy, so good luck seo minjung 

ps: know i’ll charge a dior fee if i have to write the rest

-

lovers and alcohol, two things she fails at. a dwindling time bomb for when the alcohol laces her veins, and suddenly she wears a false sense of confidence, inside a chasm where the past mistakes become re-written with the truth that speaks tonight.

alcohol’s a dangerous weapon, handled with care. (she’s careless, always has been when falling into temptation leads to the five seconds of euphoria). it’s not her fault, no. she refuses (knows it’s her fault anyway) when memories always begin with the echoes of footsteps coming closer to her one by one, her heart loosely caught in the palm of her hand. hands raised, she falls with the devilish touch of alcohol.

it’s dangerous, a close call holding on by a thread

i can only see it as temptation

don’t come to me, don’t

because it always starts at the same story. her muse, a solo silhouette of the skeleton that doesn’t give despite how many times she’s locked it deep in her head. her head says don’t, her heart says, yes. and you know the dangerous aftermath of what comes with the asynchrony of the heart and head. the heart wins out. doesn’t matter how many times the words she utters fall into a don’t, her eyes speak differently.

don’t cross the line, please don’t give me the alcohol, don’t i might try to make it work with you if drunk

 the aftermath already follows suit before it all starts. the cataclysmic mash-up of too many drinks and the courage that doesn’t fade despite how many more drinks she tries to upkeep the false sense of security in the moment. faux bravado — it’s a dangerous thing. wrapping her up underneath its finger when her head tells her once more, it’s only temporary as with most things. her heart says something else: regrets or not, she’s already decided.

alcohol no longer feels good. impulse no longer feels smart.

creative liberation or not, she’s still stuck writing the same lines over and over for someone who’s only an illusion of the past.

she types up the note document into one. hours staged in flashbacks she ought to forget — never forget, it always resurfaces in the studio. types it into a document, attaches the vocal guide before packing it all into an email to press send.

figures, it’s a day that’s already bled into the next.

[visionaxry]

TOP 10 TV SHOWS I WATCHED IN 2020

1. Dear White People

This show goes on the top tier of my favorite shows ever. It’s been around since 2017 (after the eponymous movie of 2014) but only this year I finally got the chance to watch it. Truly one of the best written shows I’ve ever seen, with such compelling characters and story. While I love to watch series with hard hitting social topics, it’s usually very emotionally exhausting for me. However, DWP manages to balance the gravity of its plot with a bright outlook. Besides, I always love to see different characters’ perspectives so the format of DWP is extremely engaging.

2. Grand Army

Grand Army is not your typical teen drama. It’s very raw and real. Five protagonists pull you into the story, and whether you hate them or love them, they don’t let you go. All characters feel like actual people you could know in real life. The show talks about racism, terrorism, sexual assault, white feminism, poverty, homophobia, bullying and more. I also love the way the show uses phones and social media, which you rarely get to see in teen shows. It doesn’t feel glossy or over dramatic. It does get graphic and dark, but it makes you care about the fate of its characters. Here, we also get to see five different perspectives. That and the rawness reminded me of SKAM, although GA is way less cheerful. It could also be compared to Euphoria with it’s portrayal of real issues, but I feel like GA hits the spot much better (and has more diversity).

Finding out that the creator is racist, upon finishing the binge, left me shocked and quite conflicted. I hope they will change the showrunner for season 2 (if it gets renewed). 

3. The Great 

I’m not much of a period drama fan but this one’s no typical historical shows. It plays around historical figures, but you shouldn’t take that too seriously, just like the show itself. It’s a great (haha get it) fun to watch. The combination of comedy with the actual life or death peril creates a unique experience. Each episode the tables turn, you feel both, betrayed and enticed. Not to mention, Elle Fanning and Nicholas Hoult’s chemistry and performances are phenomenal. Overall, it feels like a strawberry blew up in your mouth (take it however you want).

4. Dickinson

Dickinson is similar to The Great in a sense of historical accuracy. And I’m grateful for it, because seeing the 19th century nobility twerking at a party was something that brought me an immense amount of joy. Of course, you get to see Emily Dickinson’s poetic and original inner world, which is handled quite creatively.

5. The Queen’s Gambit

This is just a very well written, portrayed and produced story. Even if you feel like it wouldn’t be your cup of tea (I mean a period piece about chess? Come on), chances are once you put the show, you won’t be able to stop. It’s a limited series with a star struck cast which pretty much reads like a prolonged film. It’s also pretty suitable to watch with your family, if usually you struggle to find a common interest.

6. Julie and the Phantoms

This show certainly exceeded everyone’s expectations. It may seem like a typical kids show, but it’s smart, deep and entertaining. The music is incredible and it’s impossible not to fall in love with characters. Also, here’s the proof that your show doesn’t need to have graphic scenes and oversexualized underaged characters to be good. 

7. Saved By the Bell: the reboot

So I didn’t watch the original show, but the reboot caught my attention mostly because of Josie Totah, and because the vibe of the show just felt like something I would like. And I was absolutely right. Perhaps it’s not everyone’s cup of tea (and what is?) but to me it’s hilarious. A sort of heart-warming witty little show with gen z humor and interesting diverse characters. Definitely my new comfort show. And Lexi’s my queen.  

8. Outer Banks

Released during self-isolation it became a way for the viewers to live vicariously through the risky outdoor adventures. Perhaps, that’s why it’s such a hit and a bit overrated. Don’t get me wrong, I really liked (why do you think it’s on this list). It’s not an outstanding show, might be cheesy and raise some questions (like how can they all be teenagers looking like that?) but it’s entertaining and engaging, and sometimes that’s all you need.

9. I am not okay with this

Let’s take a moment of silence for this amazing show being cancelled. Do you like Teotfw or Stranger Things, or better yet both? This show’s for you! It’s unique, dynamic, feels like you’re reading a comic book. Has a certain mystery to it and its own distinct voice. It also feels retro and nostalgic, even though it’s set in modern day.

10. Love, Victor [SPOILERS]

There’s a lot of things I wish I could change about the show to make it better: For starters, more representation. I mean you’re making a show, not exclusively, but primarily for the lgbtq+ community and you only have two main gay characters? What’s that about? There are so many possibilities to make other characters not straight. E.g. Mia and Lake could be couple goals, Pilar being bi, Andrew – definite bi energy. Secondly, the cheating trope is so exhausting and overdone in gay storylines. It doesn’t add drama, it just makes the couple and the characters hard to root for. Also, making the love interest so obvious was so underwhelming after everything we went through in Love, Simon. I was kind of hoping for a surprise love interest until the end.

Regardless of all that, no matter how far from teenage reality this show is, it was cute. And even though I rooted for the secondary characters way more than the main one, I’m still excited to see what they come up with for S2.

[ssickabit]

Hyunjin corrupting his cute gf who is usually bratty (also I love ur writing, and how you write in third person)

aaaaa thank you sm 🥺 im more comfortable using 3rd person pov in case you want to know :D

this contains fluff and also, angst, i hope you don’t mind that haha. enjoy!

[9.47 pm]

“where were you?”

Hyunjin’s voice was hoarse, making her stopped in the place. she blinked for times, then dropped her bag to the couch. “uh, i was working on my lastest project at town’s library.”

he chuckled, more likely to be mocking one. his expression now changed to the serious one. “i told you i will be home at 6 right?”

she let out a ‘tsk’. “i know.”

“why don’t you go home early?”

“i told you i was working on my project okay,” she replies with a higher tone. she huffed as she took off her coat. “why are you like this to be honest.”

Hyunjin watched her ignoring him, once again.

sure, he bought her alot of expensive things; sure, he brought her to the fanciest restaurants and parties; sure, he treated her like a queen but sometimes her attitude wasn’t the best. not to mention how their time management is so fucking bad, so they barely meet each other in daily.

he really to let out his frustration at work, but being home made it worse.

he almost throw his phone at the table, receiving the “what the fuck is wrong with you?” from her.

he turned his body to her, who’s opening her bag to let out some things.

“what the fuck is wrong with me?” he asked, “should’ve asked your fucking self about it.”

“you could have just told me what the fuck is wrong rather then being difficult like this hwang hyunjin,” she replied.

he let out the “i can’t believe you said that to me” face. he cocked one eyebrow then shouted. “see? who the fuck should’ve shut their mouth here? you. now continue whatever you were doing rather than being so fucking ignorant like this, you smart-mouthed slut.”

the silence creeped between them after Hyunjin went to their shared room. she sighed, trying not to mad and cry at the same time. this project is more important then being in a fight with a person like Hyunjin—she know it right.

she woke up when something poked behind her.

Hyunjin’s arm accidentally hugged her from his side. she tried to so hard to turn herself without waking him up.

fuck, she thought, his morning boner.

not like it’s something abnormal, but it’s just too distracting for her. she sighed as she got up from the bed, trying to make something to warm her body. last night was the first fight that they had in such a long time of their relationship and she felt bad about it. she knew she shouldn’t have been acting like that.

in the other place, Hyunjin woke up feeling needy.

he groaned, then went to the kitchen. he hugged her from behind, placed his face in the crook of her neck, then kissing it.

it was shocking for her, despite the fighting that they did last night.

“you didn’t leave?” she asked.

“nope,” he sighed, “studio was frustrating. i decided to take a day off.”

she nodded. she handed him the morning tea.

“what are you gonna do?” he asked.

“uh, take a shower?”

he smirked.

just as she took off every piece of her clothes and went it to the shower, he joined. he already naked—not like it’s their first time seeing each other naked. he was behind her as the water fell down, making their bodies wet. she loves it when Hyunjin slick back his blond hair with his fingers, and how he closed his eyes and lifted his chin as he trying to make the water run down his face.

he pulled her closer to him, hand in her waist.

“stop looking at my dick,” he said.

he caught her red-handed. their heights differences are so obvious as he looked down to her. “i-i’m sorry-“

“have you ever sucked a dick before?”

she looked up and stare into his eyes. “n-no,” she shook her head.

he licked his bottom lip. “wanna try with mine?”

sex wasn’t their regular thing because of his hectic schedule. he’d fuck her right everywhere he at but he didn’t do it anyway.

he took her virginity while ago.

and the ‘we both got so wasted, wanna have sex?’

“like, right here?”

“isn’t it obvious?”

she went on her knees and looked up to him with doubts. his cock is so beautiful, she thought. “it’s not gonna suck itself,” he answered all of her questionable gaze that she threw at him earlier. “come on, use you hand, tongue and mouth.”

she grabbed his cock then jerk it slowly. she began lick his tip. as their gaze met each other, she went bold. she kissed it, teasing the tip that went so angry, begging her to put it in her mouth. the way she roll her tongue and lips over it, making him stuck in this euphoric feelings. “look at you,” he chuckled, his breathing was heavy, “sucking my dick like a porn-star.”

“shit, shit, shit—“ he panted as she slid his length into her mouth. he grabbed a fistful of her hair with his hand, guiding her. “u-uh, less teeth then it’s okay,” he told her. she hummed, the vibration sending chills into his body. he growled as she kept doing what she have been doing. the way her fingers, her tongue and her lips teasing him; feels like he’s going to the cloud nine.

she bobbed her head faster as the time pass by. “h-hey,” he interrupted as he felt everything is going too far.

the mix of the drool and his pre-cum making her looks so pretty right now. “got up,” he said.

“w-why?” she asked.

“i don’t want to cum in your pretty mouth yet,” he answered as he helped her to got up. “can i fill you up instead?”

she nodded quickly. he chuckled then kissed her, trying to taste her mouth who just sucked his cock while ago. after they pulled out, she began to turn around, her face facing the wall.

“wait, what are you doing?”

“i thought-i thought you gonna take me from behind,” she softly answered.

“baby, no,” he shook his head, “i want you to look at me as i fuck you. okay?”

she obeyed. before she can proceed anything that happen, he slipped two of his fingers into her slit, feeling the wetness at the first second. her mouth opened—she was silent, but her eyes screw shut as she pumped his fingers into her. “are you wet just from sucking me?” he asked.

“y-yes,” is all that she can answer.

he smirked then pulled his finger out. the emptiness inside her making her whined. “you’re lucky that im gonna fuck you hard against this wall, how does it sound?” he whispered into her ear. she grabbed his hand, then began sucking onto his fingers. he can feel the arousal being sent into his cock, once again.

he grabbed his cock then teasing her with his tip. she whined into his ear, trying to make him fill her up quickly. “can’t wait for me to fill your tight pussy with my cock, darling?” he asked. he let out a low groan as he slid his length in. he gave her seconds to adjust herself. she can feel his cock throbbing inside her, making her walls clenched as the response. he looked down and hissed as he saw how her hole swallowed his cock perfectly.

he lifted one of her with his hand, keeping it up like that so he can have better access to her pussy. “hyunjin,” she mewled as he began to pound into her without any warning.

“your pussy feels so good around me baby,” he panted, “fuck, what a dirty slut you are.”

the sound of skin slapping as the glass around fogged around them is the only sound they can hear beside the choked moans that passed from their lips. “c-can i cum hyunjin?”

“beg for it,” he said.

“please? i-i can’t take it anymore—“ he cut her off as his thrust became deeper and harder.

“come on, i know you’re better than this,” he replied, with a loud groan following his voice. she cried to the overwhelming feelings that he made only for her. she dig her nails into his back, teeth grazing over his shoulder and neck. “look at me,” he demanded. “look-fuck, look at me as you cum.”

and she did even it was hard for her to open her eyes. he kissed her roughly to suppress her from crying. her walls clenched around him—the euphoria sent him over the edge. he pulled out, then jerked himself. she watched how he shot his seed into her stomach, moaning loudly.

he kissed her then. it was soft, not rushed, just lips collided to each other.

her memory played how he kissed her in the middle of sex. things Hyunjin would never do, but he did it. she knew he is the type of finish everything fast. but the way he kissed her, reminded her that she is his.

Hyunjin is afraid to admit that he is in love with the girl in front of him. he kissed her cheeks before they continue the shower session that was paused while ago. he pulled her closer to his figure, embracing every single inch of her. she rested her head on his chest as the water ran down their bodies.

“you know i didn’t mean it last night,” he said, breaking the silence between them.

she hummed in response.

“you know that i love you right?”

she looked up to him. “d-do you want a round two?”

“no!” he laughed to her innocence, “god, no. i just wanted to say that, okay? also, i’m sorry for last night.”

she wanted to disappear—she just can’t handle this lovely moment of them. she can hear the sincerity in his voice. she kept looking down to her feet,  making Hyunjin lifted her chin with his hand. “hey, what’s wrong?”

she was crying. he was in shock for a second. he hugged her seconds after. “hey...” he whispered.

“i-i love you too, Hyunjin,” she said through her tears, “i love you too much, and it hurts sometimes.”

in this moment he knew he fucked up. “i miss you, but sometimes i don’t know how to say it because you’re always busy with your works...”

he listened. he felt like his heart shattered in pieces now. “that doesn’t mean i don’t like it—i support you no matter what, because it’s your dream. it’s your passion, and i’m so proud of you.”

“hey,” he cleaned his throat, “i’m sorry, okay? i hope you know that i just don’t want to lose you. i’m sorry that sometimes this is difficult for us, but i’m so grateful that we can make it this far.”

she tried to calm her breath, as he caressed her back slowly. “i’m sorry sometimes i’m not a good girlfriend for you.”

“no, you’re not. you’re perfect for me.”

she didn’t let go of him. and she wouldn’t. Hyunjin knows sometimes they’re toxic for each other, but she is the one that’s on his mind, every time. Hyunjin might be the pop star everyone knows, but when he is with her, he knows he is just an ordinary human and he hope she knows that he is thankful to have her as his safe place.

“i love you,” he whispered one again. “and i always be.”

[secret-rendezvous1d]

“i need a hug”

hello, hi!

i definitely don’t think this is a one-off thing anymore and this blog may be on the way to merging into a harry styles + matthew gray gubler blog so i’d like to think that that is a new exciting venture people will . i’m really enjoying writing about a new scene, a new character and a new life to plan out and write about. the stories don’t essentially follow each other so they can be read anyhow and in any way but i’d like to think they all follow the same storyline/timeline so they link in that way.

like, reblog and give me some feedback. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after. 

thank you. enjoy.

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“i need a hug” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 1.7k.

summary; eventually, the emotions of working a case gets to yn and she needs an escape after a briefing in the form of her boyfriend, spencer.

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There are moments in YN’s job as a secondary communications liaison that she loves.

She got to work alongside a team of agents who were funny and smart and trusting and kept her safe in situations out in the field and they brightened her mood whenever she felt a little down in the dumps from a long day, especially a case that was vigorous and vicious in its attacks; she got to work with a woman, who was a mother to the sweetest little boy she’d ever graced and held and loved in her life, who shared the same emotions as her when they read through case file after case file and took in some of the most heart-wrenching information from an unsub’s killing; she got to work in an office with her boyfriend, sitting opposite him as he worked on his reports or involuntarily played a game of Chess with whoever walked passed and saw a potential move, sharing secret glances and meeting in the kitchenette for a cuddle before work and Hotch had them back to their desks in a rush.

She loved her job and she loved what she did in the field.

Knowing she was saving lives and saving a town from a sadistic killer, protecting people from another unsolicited attack on the vulnerable and the innocent, putting someone behind bars because they deserved it. Feeling the sense of euphoria washing over her every time she managed to catch a killer, hairs raising when they finally admitted to what they’d done for years without ever getting caught, ending someone’s narcissistic trait because they could no longer show the ego they’d been growing by thinking they were subtle enough to hide from their crimes. The looks on the faces of the known unsub, when she bashed out fact after fact that they’d worked out by not only fishing on his background but by the evidence and the profile they gave to themselves with how and who they killed, made her feel proud to catch them; they could no longer do what they long to achieve.

But there were some moments of her job that she hated.

Having to read about the brutal killings of women her age or women who were tortured before they died was enough to have her head reeling in all kinds of situations and possibilities of it still happening somewhere in the world because they’d yet to find another serial killer to arrest, because these women had no safety in their death and they were tortured long before the incessant torturing came to an end; having to read over and see crime-scene pictures of innocent children and teenagers who had died in the crossfire of a criminal’s poor psychological behaviour, where they never thought about the consequences, and never had an inch of remorse or sympathy running through their veins because they were never given the love and the compassion from a parent as they grew older; having to read such heartbreaking backstories on why someone had turned from the purest of children to such a evil person who forced a vendetta upon anyone that passed them or did them wrong and learning that broken families weren’t always so well worked out.

“You can show emotion on the job, you know? You don’t have to hide behind a coffee cup,” Spencer suggested, standing beside YN as she leaned against the kitchenette counter, a warm mug of steaming coffee in her hands and held to her lips as if she were taking a lengthy sip. Partly so the rim could cover her eyes, because she was sure tears would escape any given minute, and partly so she could keep her hands warm on the chilly day it was outside. He followed her as soon as she left the briefing room, a wave of concern swallowing him as he watched her rush down the stairs and disappear, a finger swiping her cheek that she assumed went ignored. “You don’t think I’ve seen any of the team shed a tear over something brutal?”

“Rule number one, Spence; no crying on the job. Hotch’s suggestion,” she hummed, looking in the direction of the briefing room and seeing everyone packing up their belongings from the table and carrying their own case files under their arms as they walked back to their desks to prep for whenever the wheels were due up on the jet, “it never gets any easier, no matter how many times I give those briefings and read the notes and see the photos.”

By it, he assumed, was coming into a room full of people who were waiting for what next dreadful thing had come their way and having to speak about a murder that she had to think about, in depth, in order to gain some understanding as to what direction she needed to take the briefing into, so she could explain exactly what they were expecting to do upon their arrival to the scene, reliving the killings in her head like it was something she saw with her own eyes. That, alone, was enough to drive someone off a job that they loved if it was something they had to speak about on a daily basis, thinking about death as soon as they stepped foot out of their front door in the morning.

“Kids, Spencer. I can just about cope with the cases on murdered prostitutes and the drug addicts and the sex workers but kids,” she sighed in diselief and looked at him with forlorn eyes and felt her bottom lip quiver behind the white ceramic resting against her mouth, “there are children going missing every day and there’s someone doing that to them. A grown adult. Someone walks the street with the purpose of taking children from their families like they could treat them any better.”

Spencer ignored all protocol of ‘romance in the workplace’ and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his side and nuzzling his nose into her hairline, the baby hairs growing beneath her fringe tickling her nostrils but the smell of her shampoo made it all the much better; strawberry-scented and sweet and it smelt like home. Home was the smell of strawberry, the presence of his girlfriend and a bubble that only they were in. His palm resting on the curve of her shoulder, fingers rubbing up and down on the bare skin of her upper arm showing from the short-sleeved blouse she wore to work that day, lips pressed against her temple in a reassuring manner. He could feel the eyes of Prentiss and JJ watching them, no doubt cooing and guffawing over the sweet sight they rarely saw, but he chose to ignore them and instead let his cheeks flush a hot pink. Let them stare; he felt content and that’s all that mattered in the moment.

“Working a case and having a good outcome is great. To see that child when we solve the case, albeit seeing them beaten and dirty and naivety, it feels amazing to know they’re reunited with those who vow to keep them safe from that moment on and who never stopped looking for them, not an inch of hope given up,” YN sighed, tilting her head to the touch of his lips and closing her eyes, content with the bubble they’d blown around themselves in that moment, his eyes soft and scanning her features, “I don’t know how you throw yourself into it and not struggle with the aftermath or the before of it all.”

The silence lingered in the kitchenette and, even though there was a sense of being watched, neither of them cared. One day or another, Spencer knew there would be a specific case that tore his girlfriend to the ground and made her show her true feelings towards something she was expected to work on, a case that made her struggle to contain her emotions and that one day had come, much quicker than he expected but he knew it was . All he needed to do was reassure her that, no matter what happens, they’d do the best they can in situations that should have them panicked.

“I question that myself sometimes,” he admitted. Inhaling deeply, he got a proper scent of the coffee wafting from the cup still held into her hands, before he breathed out a sigh and felt a little weight lift from his shoulders. “You’ll be okay. You help us out more than you think you do in cases that mean a lot more to you.”

“Do I?”

“Of course,” he craned his body away from her so he could look down and give her the sweetest, warmest smile he could muster up, “I always feel so proud of you when you give us a huge lead over something we missed. Especially the leads that take us to the right place. They call me the genius but you,” he tapped her on the nose with his index finger and grinned, “you can be the genius better than me sometimes.”

She blushed and looked down at the milky contents of her coffee, the steam hitting her face and adding the heat of her face, a sheepish smile permanent on her lips that she tried to hide as she took a sip and swallowed the hot liquid and allowed it to burn her throat. Burning in a warming way rather than just to hurt herself.

“C’mon, wheels for the jet go up in thirty. I need to pack my desk up and you need to grab your go-bag,” he reminded her, pulling away from her and removing his arm from around her shoulders, taking a step towards the doorway and turning his back to her, “try not to let the briefing bother you until we touch ground. We’re not there yet so we can’t base any confirmations for anything on anything.”

He could hear her chug the rest of the coffee from her mug, shaking his head in disbelief because now she was bound to be bouncing off the walls in a tight-spaced jet for over an hour, making a mental note to keep her off the coffee on the plane and to have her drinking water. His hand touched the door handle and, as he pushed his weight down to open the door, she spoke up and gathered his attention.

“I need a hug,” she said before he left the room, Spencer spinning around on his heels to look at her, a coffee-stained mustache clinging to her upper lip that her tongue peeked out to collect and a bright spark behind her eyes, “before we get plunged into work and we can’t show romance or anything, I just- I need a hug.”