#i do think i have talked on this point before that i both get comfort and ease from habits and familiarity

[alchemistc]

@liminalmemories21 - this isn't exactly what you asked for but:

Abby C. 8:51 PM: So how'd it go? With the talking?

Buck stares at the message. Stares at the milk frother sitting in his counter, and the candlesticks he'd really considered dropping off the side of his upper balcony, ten minutes ago. (He's a firefighter, he knows how that ends. But, like. Still)

Bad, he texts back. So bad. But he also won't give me my sweatshirt back and I know he has it. Any sage advice?

It's a little weird to be texting her. She'd been one of the first people he'd ever talked to consistently on the phone, and he'd grown to enjoy it, grown to appreciate that voice in his ear.

Abby texts back immediately: I'm not entirely sure I know what that means. He actually LIKED you.

Buck can feel the buzzing under his skin, the rush of adrenaline at remembering Tommy not only not denying he'd loved Buck, but admitting off-hand that he still did.

It means I'm getting my man back, Buck sends, and then stares at the slippers he can see poking out from the right side of the bed.

His phone rings.

"You know," Abby starts, before Buck can so much as greet her. "I spent a long time beating myself up for not seeing this as a sign, but that's not the point."

"What... is the point?"

Abby chuckles. She sounds good. Happy. Buck is far enough removed from it to feel glad for her, and jealous of her, and then he's rolling right back around to being fucking livid that Abby and Tommy had both run. Different reasons, same result. A first of Buck's that'd just walked away.

"He used to watch movies with my mom constantly. All the terrible schlock that I couldn't stand - Hallmark movies, and D-Lister rom coms, all those trite based on true events Lifetime shows."

Buck nods. Waits for her to continue.

She doesn't.

"I'm not picking up what you're dropping down."

"He and my mom would just critique them all the way through. Just tear them to shreds. What was unrealistic, what was just plain stupid. She - mom was never more lucid than when she and Tommy were bemoaning the lack of reality in those movies."

"Listen, I already know asking him to move in with me was a dumb idea. I'm the himbo, remember?"

Abby pauses. "...that's what he called you?"

"Apparently all your mutual friends did."

Abby sighs. "The point is, Buck. They liked watching them because they liked talking about what real relationships were actually like. What happened after a curtain close kiss, how much a couple was gonna fight over the financial sustainability of a Christmas themed donut shop, what the fiance that got left behind in the big city was gonna do now that they were finally free of the person who'd spent the holiday season losing their entire brains. Tommy's a realist. He wants to be stopped before he gets on the plane, but he wants to be stopped because you already have a ten step plan to make things work. And he's terrified of giving too much of himself away to someone who thinks he shits rainbows and puppies and hasn't reckoned with the fact that he's just as screwed up as the rest of us."

"You swear more than I remember."

Abby laughs. " But you see my point?"

Buck doesn't want to. But he does. "Well, I definitely don't think he's perfect anymore."

"And you still love him." She says it like she knows. She says it like she'd once expected to spend a life with Tommy Kinard.

"And I still love him," Buck acknowledges, and they both drift into silence. It's comfortable. Easy. He sort of misses being able to talk to her about shit like this.

"Call me if you need anything, Buck."

Buck hangs up the phone with a million new, vaguely more hopeful thoughts swirling around in his brain.

Twenty minutes later he texts her one more time: This is the only sex thing you're getting from me - that thing he does with your nipples? What the fuck?

Abby C. 9:22 PM: I taught him that. You're welcome.

Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.

The knocking continues.

It's getting louder.

There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.

Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.

He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.

Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.

The knocking returns less than a minute later.

---

There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.

Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.

Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.

Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.

Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.

Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.

"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.

Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.

It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.

The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.

"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.

"What are you -?"

"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."

---

He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.

"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.

Buck's scowl.

God.

"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."

"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."

Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."

The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.

"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.

It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.

The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.

This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.

Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.

Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.

That he'd forgotten about.

Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.

"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.

That somehow stings just a little bit extra.

Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.

"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.

"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.

"Cut it out, Buck."

Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."

---

The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.

Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.

Buck almost looks triumphant.

"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."

He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.

Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.

The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.

"This isn't everything."

Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.

"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.

He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.

He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.

Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.

"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.

"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."

"I know."

"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."

"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.

Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."

"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.

"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."

He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.

"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.

Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.

Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.

"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."

It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.

"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."

Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.

"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."

---

He goes in for the kill.

"I called Abby, two nights ago."

Right for the jugular. No survivors.

"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."

Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.

"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.

Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."

The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this."

"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"

"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."

Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."

"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.

"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."

Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.

Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.

He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.

---

There is someone knocking at his door.

Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.

He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.

There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.

[vinylfoxbooks]

November 11 - Adore | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 1,055

“How did you know that you loved Remus?” Regulus hums, poking at his food. A part of him hates this, hates that they were ever put through a situation where they’re awkward just sitting on a couch together eating. He hates that they have to put in effort to bridge the gap and have a peaceful relationship. But hating it doesn’t mean he won’t try. 

Sirius hums, looking up at him from where he was intently watching his own food, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean you- you risked everything for Remus. You risked our parents for him, how did you know that was something you… how did you know that the sacrifice was worth it?”

It’s a while before Sirius pulls together a response, long enough that Regulus almost regrets asking, before he sharply inhales and puts his plate down on the coffee table. He moves so he’s sitting cross-legged facing Regulus, “As long as I’ve known him, even before we were dating, I knew there was something special about him. I didn’t… I didn’t know what it was at that point, and it took me a long time to learn that I could like boys, which he and James were the ones to teach me that, but there was something that was… pulling me to him. I always wanted to sit next to him, I always wanted to know his opinions on something that I liked, and I always wanted his approval.” 

He takes a couple seconds to take a sip of water, giving Regulus the time to put his own dishes on the coffee table, before he clears his throat again, “Then we started dating and… I don’t know, I don’t think I loved him when we first got together but then… I just spent time with him, we were going on dates, we were more open with each other and-” Sirius smiles softly, looking down at his lap, “I can’t explain how it feels, loving him. It’s… warm, and comforting, and a little scary because I don’t know how to let people love me… It starts in my chest and just… warms my body. Also it… it wasn’t like a dawning realisation, but more one of those things where he said something and I thought, ‘Merlin, I love him’ and that was that.” They’re both silent for a moment, and Regulus takes the time to watch over his brother’s expression and body language, he acts like he’s comfortable, and he has a sweet smile on his face that Regulus only saw for the first time when he saw his brother with Remus. 

And then he takes a second to look over at the previous night. James had come over to the flat to spend some time with Remus and Sirius, and they had managed to coerce him out of his room, which Sirius was greatly confused at. Then, at the end of the night, Remus and Sirius ‘tucked in’ for the night early, leaving James and Regulus alone. While not common, this did happen sometimes, and James was quick to splay themself out over the couch that they now had to themself and grab the remote from the coffee table to put on a random show that they’ve both watched before. 

And James had asked him a question, something stupid, like they usually do to get him more comfortable around them, get him talking. And then they’d laugh at something that they said and warmth would bloom in Regulus’ chest. And the two would talk and they’d joke and James would sometimes make comments on the show after lapsing into silence, usually a stupid comment that would get Regulus to insult them. And it was comfortable, and it was warm. 

Regulus shakes his head to distract himself from his thoughts, “And how did you know that leaving mum and dad for him would be… worth it?” This is dangerous territory, Regulus knows this. While they’re both getting better with conversations like this, a lot of the time they end up screaming at each other when they get on the topic of Sirius leaving.

Sirius seems to know this too, because he takes a second to think of his words before speaking, “It wasn’t just Remus. You and I both know that I could’ve run to his, but I went to the Potter’s. Because Effie and Monty and James, their house, made me feel that same comfortable, but scary, warmth. That was love, watching Effie and Monty dance in the kitchen was love. And I figured that… if I felt the same thing with Remus as I did watching Effie and Monty then, that meant Remus and I could be Effie and Monty, right?”

He shakes his head, “I was scared, I was so scared, but I just held that warmth close to my chest. I didn’t really know if it would be worth it, if Remus and I would stay together, but I believed that it could be.” 

Regulus nods after a couple seconds, “I think I know what you’re talking about.” 

“Do you?” Sirius looks shocked for a moment, “For someone in particular or?” 

“Maybe,” the younger says after a second or two, “It’s… it’s for James, maybe?” He furrows his brows, “But that could also be because I know what you’re talking about at the Potters’ house.” 

“James?” Sirius says after a beat of silence, “How long?”

“I don’t know…” he shakes his head, “James and I hang out when you and Remus leave and they…”

“They adore you.” Sirius smiles softly, reaching out and offering a hand, but not touching Regulus. He takes his brother’s hand. The older shakes his head, “I don’t know how they’d feel about me telling you that and I don’t know if it’s more than just James being really affectionate towards everyone but… I know that you’re special to them.” And his words make Regulus’ chest fill with a comforting warmth… he smiles softly and Sirius seems to know what that means, “Take your time with it.” And Regulus just nods, thinking back on all the nights that the two of them were left alone. On the way that Regulus had a weird obsession with James since they properly met. 

“Thank you, Siri.” 

At that, Sirius pulls Regulus into a hug, “Anytime, Reg.”

[guppybibi]

Tattoo artist!Johnny who had already met you a year ago when you made an impulsive decision of getting a tattoo with your current boyfriend's name.

This was nothing new for Johnny having seen this numerous times before, in both men and women, and he knows they'll come crawling back to get them covered up after a nasty breakup. It's been a running game in the shop, all of the workers betting their money on how long it'll take before the customer comes back to cover up the tattoo.

Nothing new, right? Then why was Johnny so surprised when he saw you walk into the shop, the door chimes ringing when you swing the door open to reveal you. Eyes still red and puffy while you sniffled, not doing a very good job on hiding the fact you had been crying. His coworkers shot him a knowing look, recalling the bet from last year.

"Pretty thing, ain't she?" One of Johnny's coworkers commented, looking at the back of your figure as you stepped out of the shop with a huge grin on your face. Probably excited to show the tattoo of your boyfriend's name to him.

"Yeah, too bad she's taken. Lucky man better be treatin' her right." Johnny remarks, noticing the look he was given. "Not for long, I bet. I'm giving them a year max." Johnny blinks once, then again. "Fine, I'm giving them five years." Of course, his coworker was pretty shocked from that. Out of all the people they've bet on, this was probably the longest bet Johnny had ever put.

"Seriously? Don't ya think that's too long?" His coworker asks skeptically, raising a brow at Johnny. "Aye, the gal is lovely. If her boyfriend drops her then that's like committing a war crime." Well, his coworker couldn't really disagree with him on that.

Johnny shoots his coworker a glare that simply said he had more important matters to attend to. Luckily, Johnny was a charmer so cooing a birdie like you into comfort shouldn't be that hard, right?

I mean, it's a break up, not exactly the end of the world here. Plus, you're a gorgeous gal, plenty of fish out there you could probably catch in less than an hour.

"Morning, lass! Welcome back, I see that you've got a little problem, huh?" He points out, seeing you nod subtly. "Alright, I'm assuming it's a cover up for the tattoo you got done a year ago?"

He clearly wasn't surprised when you nodded, having seen this too many times before. He wrote down some stuff, not caring about the paperwork much..before leading you further into the parlor.

The two of you discussed how you wanted the previous tattoo to get covered up, Johnny nudging in to suggest some stylistic choices a few times, which you gladly didn't mind.

Then began the process once you agreed with the design choice, you wanted to get this over with. To remove a past mistake from your life.

Johnny cleansed your skin, disinfecting it with a cold gel. He could see you squirming and struggling not to make a sound. He also does notice another tattoo covered up above your previous tattoo, curiosity swirling around in his mind now.

He tried hushing it, it wasn't any of his business. He's here to do his job, nothing else.

He was quiet for most of the process, aside from some rather awkward small talk about the weather and a few details of what happened between you and your boyfriend. Not that it helped, it really just made Johnny even more curious.

And finally, after who knows how long, the tattoo was covered up now! You seemed to have gotten rid of the nerves from earlier, looking a lot more calmer now.

"Alright, lass. I'm sure y'know how the caring process goes so I'll leave it up to ye." He said, cleaning up all his materials in a snap. He gives in to his curiosity, finding the courage in him to ask you about the other covered up tattoo.

"Uh..before you go lass, mind if I ask ye somethin'? It's about the other tattoo you got 'ere.." You immediately knew which one he was referring to, face reddening in embarrassment as you recalled the immature decision..

"Aah..sure, go ahead." You replied awkwardly, a sheepish smile gracing your face. "Thanks, lass. Mind if ye tell me what was written on there? I- I just noticed that the way it was covered up. The artist did a great job, I'm jealous."

Yeah okay he was just making excuses to get things flowing..never mind that.

"Oo..oh! I don't mind at all, don't worry. That's all in the past..can't really reverse it, you know? It was my ex-boyfriend's name." You answer, shrugging it off. Seems like you were the type of gal to move on from a relationship quick.

"I see, glad you were willing to share that. I wonder if I know who he is." He chuckles, evidently not expecting you to actually tell him who it was. Sure, Johnny was the type to encourage people to loosen up and get comfortable. But..maybe not to this extent.

"His name was Simon, Simon Riley—" And practically everything you said after that was unheard of.

Looks like Johnny needs to pay Simon a visit at the pub tonight.

[i-live-inyourwalls]

more haikyuu characters i think would be friends as adults (PLATONIC! I WILL SELF-IMMOLATE BEFORE I BREAK UP MY FAV SHIPS)

bokuto + ushijima

- first of all, part of my reasoning is that it would be funny as fuck

- HOWEVER: bokuto is kinda gullible, takes a lot of what he’s told at face value without questioning it. he’s honest and open about his emotions

- ushijima is VERY literal, also takes things at face value, and doesn’t generally understand other people if they aren’t being direct

- bokuto’s inability to keep anything to himself would actually be helpful for ushijima

- he’d never be confused about bokuto’s emotional state which (as we know) is not something he would pick up on unless he was told

- bokuto would also benefit from being around someone who was incapable of sparing his feelings (ego probably would take a hit at first, but i think as an adult he’d be more capable of handling it)

- also bokuto is insanely social so he wouldn’t stop trying until he and ushijima were friends

- bonus: he’d get to hang out with tendou which would be fun for him

tendou + tanaka

- they are both insane

- high energy, like messing with people, weird hair

- somewhat self-centered but still socially aware

- i think tanaka would find tendou entertaining and i think tendou would find tanaka funny

- also the potential for them fucking with people to an honestly diabolical degree? yeah, i’m sat for that

- i think they would both mess with ushijima, but i don’t think they’d ever actually be mean— and they’re smart enough to know some of their friends should be left alone (…iwaizumi….daichi….oikawa but only because oikawa would put an honestly neurotic effort into getting revenge—which could only be learned through experience)

nishinoya + kuroo

- i mean… i feel like this one is obvious

- obsessed with themselves, enjoy causing chaos

- kuroo is so much smarter than noya but noya is more unpredictable so…they could definitely be a dangerous combination

- smarter than the tendou + tanaka duo because, like, kuroo

- kuroo would probably take advantage of how willing noya is to do dumb shit and get noya to do his stupidest ideas (noya would not realize he was being strategically convinced, also he probably wouldn’t even care if he knew because he was having fun)

- also, absolutely would be each other’s wingmen. probably with asahi and kenma. can almost guarantee they would NOT be good at this and the other men would just find it confusing

akaashi + kenma

- said in my prev post about this, i think akaashi would be friends with kuroo because they took of kenma and bokuto in high school so have a shared (ish) experience

- he’d be friends with kenma for different but adjacent reasons

- they’re both somewhat quiet and reserved but capable of being sarcastic or harsh if the situation requires it

- dating bokuto and kuroo (IN MY WORLD THEY ARE. ITS REAL TO ME!!!)

- anyway, both dating people with VERY different levels of extroversion who like to spend time together

- can sympathize with the sensory overload that is being around bokuto and kuroo at the same time

- BokuAka & KuroKen double dates??? yeah bro. bokuto’s idea, kuroo talks kenma into them.

- they’d probably enjoy watching Bokuto and Kuroo entertain themselves when they all hung out even if it was overwhelming

- ^^^ both of them have a much shorter social battery so would be allies in the situation (if they don’t want to talk, they hide from everyone in silence— my mental image is them quietly doomscrolling in the same room, or kenma playing video games while akaashi reads a book or something— point being, i think they’d be able to be around each other comfortably without it feeling like actual social interaction)

edited for spelling :-)

[legomonkiefics]

Hello! I hope you’re doing good! I’m not sure if this has been done yet, but I got an idea for a fluff (possibly a pinch of angst?) scenario!:

Any, all or two of the traffic light trio sillies (Mei, Red Son, MK), with an s/o GN!reader that’s an experienced healer who takes care of them after a tough battle against a monster of your choosing. Maybe they have a heartfelt conversation afterwards, or during the process of patching them up, about getting themselves in danger for the sake of saving the world? 👀

Been thinking a lot about this since s5 lmao. Haven’t fully recovered yet 💀

🍜💛 Healing a Trio —🐉💚 Traffic Light Trio x GN Healer!Reader HCs 🔥❤️

Genres: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜🐉🔥୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ . ݁˖

- It had been a fight with a huge hawk demon, one that MK was pretty confident he could take, especially cause Mei could use her bike to move closer to the threat. Red Son was roped in by circumstance, begrudgingly working with the heroes to defeat the threat. The attack was a surprise, so there wasn't much the Trio was prepared to do. Once it finally ended, they were sufficiently scratched, scuffed, battered, and bruised

- The three had come to you a little hesitantly. They didn't like feeling like they were bothering you, especially because these always ended in some deep conversations about the nature of self-sacrafice and priorities. When you'd opened your door to the three and allowed them in without many questions, they filed in, MK and Mei attempting lighthearted jokes right off the bat to diffuse tension

- MK, for as much as he gets hurt, sucks at getting patched up. He hisses and writhes if the topical medicine stings, yelping and whining at the unpleasant sensations. He's a very dramatic patient, but a very talkative one as well

- He tells you about the fight, reassuring you that he already remembers the conversations you'd both had before about these things. He's not exactly happy having to sit still while getting bandaids and bandages applied, but he's obviously still proud of his victory

- He's more quiet when you're closer, focusing on the feeling of your hands on his skin, the gentle and reliable touch providing a sense of safety and warmth. He feels his heart swell seeing the determined expression you have while working, and little flutters when you occasionally banter back. This routine between you was familiar, it was comforting. He felt safe under your care

- Mei, meanwhile, is also a pretty passionate speaker, but much less of a whiner than MK. Her problems are mostly just squirming from being hyperactive and wound up on adrenaline, frequently trying to hop off of your workbench to demonstrate a move

- Your gentle chastising with Mei is unique, specifically taking time to address how she feels being on the sideline of missions these days, and having to hold things together for MK most of the time. She feels like she can have that full honesty with you, your complete confidentiality and understanding helping to hold her together

- She flirts with you more openly than the other two. Any time you're close enough, she points out something about your face to compliment. She offers to help you do small things, asking questions about your job and what kinda stuff you see outside of the Monkey Crew

- Red Son, like the others, is a talker. His ramblings are closer to ranting and raving, and outside of waving his arms or doing grand dramatic gestures, he's more still than the other two

- Conversations about his family are what come up most often, when he isn't bragging about his villainy or latest attacks on the town. More recently he's been talking a lot about working as a food vendor. It's nice to see him happy about something that doesn't come from malicious intent

- He allows himself to show past his anger and be more vulnerable with you. He's a hint softer, a little more willing to be honest and open with you. He loves your willingness to do this for them, and he tells you frequently how much he admires you and your work

- The three usually stick around for a few hours after each appointment, talking with you and telling you about everything you my have missed in their lives. They treasure their individual time with you, and Mei and MK especially try to hype you up all the time to show their thanks

- They invite you out every once in a while to have some hangouts without medicine or injury in the picture. They introduce you as a vital member of the team to others and get protective of you during battles

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching reading. Today's choice: 死亡万花筒 / Kaleidoscope of Death.

Kaleidoscope of Death is a 2018 Chinese webnovel about two young men who fall in love while basically playing a whole bunch of horror-themed escape rooms that can for-real kill you.

This novel was gripping. I could not put it down. It started out fun and ended up ripping out my heart several times. It does a good job getting the ball rolling with a series of adventures in weird worlds, then turns into a meditation about grief and loss and what it means to have something to lose in the first place.

This is the first time I've ever done a book rec! I'm doing it in conjunction with a rec post for the Spirealm, and originally I was just going to do this as a bonus section for that post. However, I felt they both deserve whole different posts, because they both have very different things to recommend them. I also think Kaleidoscope of Death a 100% necessary read if you've seen the show, because it provides some context that the show simply cannot include -- but it's not a necessary read before you see the show.

Therefore, I'm going to give you five reasons I think you should sit down with this one, and not a single one of these reasons is going to assume you've watched the Spirealm! The book is great and deserves to be read on its own merits, and then if you then start watching the drama afterwards, so much the better.

1. All the Cross-Dressing

(Yeah, I'm going to punctuate this one with screencaps from the Spirealm, because otherwise it's just a wall of text.)

I'm not going to tell you why the male characters frequently dress and pass as women, since the book explains the practicality of it better than I could. You just need to know that they often do, and it's never not kinda hot when it happens.

When you first meet Ruan Nanzhu, it is as Ruan Baijie, a stunningly beautiful and noticeably tall woman. Lin Qiushi, our POV character who is extremely confused for a number of reasons, spends the first whole arc talking and thinking about Baijie like she's a girl. In fact, one of the cutest things about sweet, earnest Qiushi is that he clocks Baijie several times, and every time he's just like, oh, she's so flat-chested, how unusual for a girl, anyway...

And this isn't even just dressing up! Stepping into the door worlds changes you physically based on your clothing and cosmetics. Nobody inside looks the same as they do outside, and nobody looks the same inside as they did last time they were inside. The rules that govern these transformations aren't even clear to the characters themselves! So, you know, have fun with that.

I'm going to say it's not an out-and-out trans thing, in that we're not dealing with an AMAB egg who will crack someday. Ruan Nanzhu is a very male-identified, penis-having man! He's just also pretty entertainingly comfortable with performing whatever gender makes him the most fuckable person in any given room. Lin Qiushi is not so inherently genderfluid, however, which means that when his gremlin sort-of-boyfriend makes him pretend to be a girl, it's a completely different kink.

Therefore: If you like it in any way when boys dress up like girls, you owe it to yourself to pick up this one. And if you like a fandom that likes it when boys dress up like girls, baby, welcome to the world inside the doors.

2. Those boys GAY

This is a textual romance. Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu are in love. This is a danmei novel about how they fall in love. There is kissing and there are fade-to-black scenes that explicitly acknowledge that the two of them have sex with one another. We even know that Ruan Nanzhu (usually) tops. This s not just me pointing at them and saying gaaaaaaaaaay. This is actual gay.

And it is gay that takes its fucking time. They do not actually hook up until well over halfway through the book, but they are physically affectionate from almost the get-go. Ruan Nanzhu is such a trickster and a liar that Lin Quishi finds it hard to believe that anything he does is sincere, which leads to nearly lesbian levels of wondering if it means anything when a guy demands you kiss him on the mouth when he's pretending to be your girlfriend. Meanwhile, Ruan Nanzhu is over here being the Kate Beaton comic about sitting here consumed with lust all evening.

Even once they both acknowledge what they're feeling for one another, they don't get together right away. After all, they're playing a game of life and death where they lose friends left and right. Every time someone goes inside the door, there's a real chance they won't come out again. Is giving your heart to someone worth how much it will destroy your entire life when you lose them?

(Yes, says the book. Yes, it is worth it.)

The slow burn of their relationship is delicious, in part because the physical (though not sexual) aspects of it predate the romantic ones. It also has the fun hot-and-cold aspect where Ruan Nanzhu is incredibly affectionate inside the doors, then icy outside of them. Poor completely inexperienced, never-been-kissed Lin Qiushi does not know what to make of any of this. He can barely manage parenting a cat. He does not know how to handle a boyfriend who is also a girlfriend who is also (spiritually) a cat.

I also find it charming how much the gay part of it both is and isn't an issue. It's not that Lin Qiushi has a problem being in love with a man; however, the fact that Ruan Nanzhu is a man does mean the heteronormally indoctrinated and relationship-inexperienced Lin Qiushi takes much longer to realize what exactly those feelings he's having are. The book's world is one where heterosexuality is the assumed default, while queerness is unexpected but everybody's still pretty cool with it. Besides, no one's going to judge Lin Qiushi's gay yearnings, because who doesn't want to fuck Ruan Nanzhu?

3. HAKO ONNA HAKO ONNA HAKO ONNA

So as I was reading through @zintranslations' earlier chapters, I kept seeing translators' notes down at the bottom about being so excited to finally get to the Hako Onna arc. Okay, I thought, this is a lot of hype; I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Friends, it does not. This is the arc I was reading while screaming into a pillow. It's thirteen chapters long, tied for the longest arc in the book with the first door. It is a fucking nail-biter. It does the clever thing of taking all the things you've learned about what can happen inside the doors and combining them for a worst-case scenario.

The setup is pretty simple: There's a bunch of boxes. One has the exit. Most are empty. Some have things that help you. Some have things that hurt you. The more things you find that hurt you, the more things there are to hurt you. And you have to open the boxes.

All the door arcs are pretty well-written, so that you can more or less play along with their various adventures. Hako Onna, however, is exceptional. It's so complicated, but you can actually follow it. And you need to be able to follow it, because the multiple emotional gut-punches that happen in this arc all depend on understanding how the rules of the game have just been leveraged to fuck someone over.

Now I really want to play the board game -- which I was pleased to discover is a real board game! And speaking of board games...

sidebar: Betrayal at House on the Hill

I know this isn't technically related to the novel at all, but if you like board games, horror, and being incredibly dramatic, you owe it to yourself to try out Betrayal at House on the Hill.

It goes like this: You and several other horror-movie archetypes wander through a mansion, "building" it as you explore it, so the game layout is different every time. At some point (and it's based on so many random factors that you never know when it'll be) someone triggers a condition, and the haunting begins. All the players then get the rules of haunting explained to them -- except for one player, the one picked to do the titular betrayal, who gets a different set of instructions and becomes the antagonist. From that point on, the game is about either surviving or completing the haunting, depending on which side you're on.

I have played this game before with normal board game people, and they were like, eh, this is fine. I have also played this game before with theatre kids who RP and LARP, and we all had a fucking blast. So I'm going to warn you that you have to choose your crowd carefully. This is a game for people who do improv and voices.

4. The art of losing isn't hard to master

The book has a high body count -- higher than the show's, in fact, though that's related to how the book also has more characters than the show does. When you meet someone who can go into the doors, be careful how much money you'd lay on their survival.

Death after the doors comes so quickly, too. There's barely any time to say goodbye, if there's even any time at all. Often there's just a phone call telling our main characters that one of their friends or allies or enemies is gone.

Everyone who gets the chance to go through the door worlds is only able to do so because they're dying already. The more doors they pass, the more they get to kick that death further down the road -- but the more doors they enter, the more chances they take that they might die inside one. So really, none of the players can be that resentful of being forced to play a game that can kill them, since they're already playing it on borrowed time.

I will say, somewhat cryptically, that the book has a positive ending that leaves open the possibility for other positive things. The path to that positive ending, though, leads through some pretty wrenching takes on living through grief. It's not even all rah-rah and it-gets-better, either -- the text acknowledges many times over what it means to have someone that life isn't worth living without.

And that's maybe not what you expected from a BL horror adventure webnovel, but it's what you're gonna get! Ha ha!

5. What He Is

Which is the title of the first extra chapter, which is not extra at all, but is in fact a necessary explanatory piece that whacks you upside the head like a two-by-four and recontextualizes the entire story.

...Yeah, that's all you're going to get from me about that. You'll understand when you get there.

Have you put it on your reading list yet?

The way you have to read it is a little convoluted: @zintranslations has chapters 1-17 and 63-end + extras. Taida Translations has chapters 1-62. So no matter where you start reading, you're going to have to switch sites at least once.

There are also apparently Portuguese, Indonesian, Russian, and Spanish translations too? And the original Chinese webnovel, of course. And some audio dramas and subs linked to from this Carrd, which helpfully has other information, like content warnings for specific chapters, in case the horror aspect of the story gives you pause.

Anyway, once you're done reading it -- or even before you're done! -- you should absolutely go watch the Spirealm. I think it's clear from both rec posts that I definitely like the book better, but I appreciate having the drama to bring so many scenes to life, and I think the casting is great. Also, I don't think reading the book makes you like the drama less! Rather, I think reading the book gives you insight into the awkward and sometimes terrible choices the drama had to make to survive -- which in turn gives you the ability to see through those choices, on to what the show always wanted in its heart to be.

I do find it funny how "Kaleidoscope of Death" and "Death's Kaleidoscope" technically mean the same thing, but they sure read different, don't they?

[tutantmeenageneetleteetle]

Hi I was wondering if I could request something.

How would the 2012 turtles feel about an autistic s/o who had situational mutism? I am someone who has both and I use cue cards or text my responses when I am unable to communicate them verbally. It would be interesting to hear how the four of them approach this circumstance.

Situational mutism

Thank you for your request! I hadn't heard of situational mutism before, so I hope that what I wrote is somewhat accurate to how it works! Feel free to correct me and educate me (can be in my DMs or requests if you prefer it to be more private!) And if I made a mistake, I'll change it!🌸

Leo

Thought you were mad at him at first, or didn't understand what he was saying

When you explained (by typing it out), he just let out an "Oooh... okay"

He might struggle a bit, the first time it happens

When you are able to communicate verbally again, he will try to make a plan with you (here comes the plan-guy again, who needs a plan for everything...)

He will ask you what you need, what he can do to help, what you don't like, how it works, etc.

Prefers if you communicate through text to speech, but if you prefer something else, that's totally okay too

He just wants to make sure you're comfortable

He will make sure everyone waits for you to type out what you have to say to make sure you're not talked over or ignored

He will teach you some ninja hand signs as well, for emergency communication

Raph

Would be really confused and frustrated at first

He would think you're purposefully not replying to him and it would tick him off

After you explained (by typing it out), he would feel really guilty about getting angry with you

You'd get one of them rare apologies

After that, he would stick up for you and get angry for you if people weren't considerate enough or impatient in their communication with you

"Situational mutism is hard, you asshole! Be considerate, or I'll beat a little respect into you!"

Violence may not be the answer you were hoping for, but it is an answer nonetheless

The dumbass will sometimes not notice or forget that you have situational mutism, though.

In his own words, feel free to hit him on the head and make him pay attention/remember

Döner kebab

He would be quick to pick up on the fact that it's not 'just you being quiet'

Would ask you about different options in his mind that could possibly be related to you being silent

"Don't you want to talk or can't you talk? You can't? Okay. Does it give you anxiety to talk? Sometimes, okay... You also have autism, right? Yes? Situational mutism? Yes? Okay, that makes sense, then."

He will do his research

Will make you a smart watch that is designed for non-verbal communication, where you have different keywords, phrases, and letters to communicate

One of the phrases will be "Donnie is the best boyfriend ever!"

Please don't give him too much space to talk, though (I'm saying this for your own good). Any silence he can find, he will yap about some science related stuff

Mikey

He would be too busy yapping to notice at first

He would just start asking you endless questions and you could not keep up with answering them, since it takes longer to even answer with text or cuecards.

When you did manage to explain, he'd just react with "wooow... alright. Dope." While he does fingerguns. (6/10, kind of funny response, but could've been more considerate, since it's a struggle sometimes)

Out of all of them, he will pick up the communication the easiest

Cuecards will work best on him

He will spend the afternoon making them with you

He thinks it's really fun to use cuecards to communicate together, and he will use them to you too

Will always have a set of cards on hand for you (or him!)

One of the cards will have an arrow pointing up with the word "kiss here" written on it

[diddlesnap]

I think there were some serious growing pains when katniss and peeta were starting to "grow close" again.

[termagax]

i just think my cis boy could get a little ambiguous boy with it. is this so wrong.

[thehardkandy]

i think i am just getting the impulse for a big life change but i dont actually know what it would be or what it would look like

[usuallydyinginside]

TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.

Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.

But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.

Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).

In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.

At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.

She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.

Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.

Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.

He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.

Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."

I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.

Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.

Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.

LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.

Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.

And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)

Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).

So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.

I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.

WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."

Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.

Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.

The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"

Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.

Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.

ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.

SO. MUCH. BETTER.

Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.

Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)

So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.

I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.

Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?

You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.

(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)

Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.

[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.

[nappingmoon]

more domestic nanami kento because I love and adore him, but this time you’re in an argument and try to sleep on the couch (spoiler: nuh uh)

wc: idk i’m on my phone it’s not that long

you get into an argument w nanami and think he wants space so after dinner, when he heads into the room to go to bed, you stay out under the pretense of finishing some paper work and watching the news. you pull a blanket out and splay onto your couch, which, despite being a little small, is soft and comfortable— a testament to its use and the friends you've had over to break it in. the thought of those good times warms your heart a smidge, though it remains heavy with the current tension between you and your fiancé. you leave the tv on, let the night shift television shows fill the space and keep you company while you sleep, an alarm set so that tomorrow you can make breakfast and talk it out.

in the bedroom, nanami lays on his back, the small clock to his left almost mocking him with the way the red numbers change minute after minute with no sign of you coming to bed. the room is cold without your presence, dark in a way that has nothing to do with lamps or moonlight. he fidgets and turns but without your familiar dip in the bed, sleep is impossible. he never sleeps well without you; the lack of your steady breaths and soft snores means he starts to spiral with thoughts about your wellbeing. he knows you’re in an argument, but you always come to bed, right?

he sits on it for a moment more, eyeing the door to see if you’ll slip in and put his worries to rest like you always do. when the numbers blip again, he gets up, feet sliding into the silly slippers you got him for christmas (you have a matching pair) and finds his way to the living room.

when he finds you there curled up with your arm hung over the edge of the sofa and a little bit of drool spilling onto the cushion, his heart twists. the lights of the television flash over your face, certainly disrupting your sleep, though he doubts your reaching anywhere near a restful slumber. he walks over to you, slowly crouching in order to avoid scaring you awake. his right hand grabbing yours, and it’s freezing— left without the protection of your measly blanket. he warms it with one hand while the other comes up to graze your face, easing you awake.

“kento?” you ask, bleary eyed. “you’re even handsome in my dreams.” you smile and pat his face before letting your arm drop and closing your eyes once more.

a small chuckle escapes him, both in surprise and adoration at his soon to be wife. unwilling to try and wake you a second time, he quickly turns the tv off, then slides an arm around your back and another under your knees before rising. he elbows the light switch to the living room off and slowly makes his way back to your shared bedroom, carefully avoiding hitting you at any point. your head is safe regardless, tucked into his chest contentedly despite not being awake. he supposes your body recognizes him asleep or awake— a testament to the years you’ve spent side by side; once as teammates and now as lovers.

he slides you into bed on your side, fixing up the covers before making his way around to his side. he slips off his slippers and gets himself under the covers, body gravitating to you. as he brings you closer to him, you finally seem to shake off your sleep. you look at him sadly, and it’s enough to resolve him against letting any future arguments happen (an impossible sentiment, he knows, but the look on your face is makes him dead set on trying).

“never try to sleep on the couch again.” he whispers, quiet but stern. “I hate sleeping without you. I worry too much.” the honesty is almost suffocating and tears build at your waterline.

“m’ sorry kento. thought you were mad at me n’ I wanted to give you some space away from me.” you reply, the words thick with sleep and emotion.

“i’ll never need space from you baby,” he insists, “I know we were in an argument but you mean everything to me. I’ll always want you by my side. I’ll always need you by my side. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were the reason I was upset.” he finishes off with a kiss to your forehead, his hand coming up to wipe the tears that have begun to drip down your cheeks.

he kisses down the bridge of your nose before leaving a peck at your lips. it’s the last thing you feel before giving in to the exhaustion once more.

in the morning, you’ll discuss the tensions of yesterday, but before that, you’ll wake in the arms of your lover, held tight against the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

it beats for you, anyway.

[endearng]

Third time's the charm

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader Summary: During one of your movie nights with Spencer, you decide to, once again, take the lead. Or, you got cockblocked so often that you almost thought it wouldn't happen. WC: 3.1k Warnings: smut (nipple play and dry humping); reader thinks spencer might be asexual but he's just a shy puppy; they are desperate for each other; "ruined" movie night; virgin!Spencer my beloved. (I guess that's it. If I forgot something, please let me know!) A/N: Aaaand here it is! I didn't think I'd write smut so soon, hehe. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it - it's actually a sequel to Dearest friend, but can be read as a stand-alone. Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist

"It’s nice we finally have some time for each other," you hummed in agreement. "Thanks for coming over," Spencer said.

"You don't have to thank me," you said, sitting down on his couch after placing the drinks you chose from his fridge on the coffee table. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you confessed. It got him blushing.

Spencer started one of your movies. It was your choice: you usually took turns picking out a movie to watch together whenever you had the chance, since neither of you were keen of going out that often and you didn't have much time outside of work. It was a fun opportunity to know more of each other through your personal taste, since he often chose foreign films about humanities and you, well, you made him watch Easy A, which got him talking about Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter.

After the movies, you would talk to each other about it, maybe mentioning a personal experience that you remembered thanks to a particular scene or a character's arch. Maybe you would kiss.

Which was a problem. Well, not a problem, but, you see, you didn't have much time together other than going to each other's houses and out on a few dates, which were your favorite: Spencer often found the most beautiful, cozy places to take you, like coffee shops, museums, bookshops and libraries, followed by a nice dinner at a local restaurant. It was during one of those dates that something gave him the nerve to touch your hand. Holding hands quickly escalated to having his hands around you at all times possible, and it got to the point where you nearly had to peel off of him when he got too comfortable and you sadly had to leave to do something. These moments of physical touch were making you go insane, thinking about making a bolder move on him, but you thought that maybe he wasn't ready. Plus the fact that you seemed to be interrupted whenever things got too heated.

If you had a nickel for everytime you and Spencer had to stop right before you got intimate (in any way, really), you'd have two nickels, which isn't much, but it's weird that it happened twice. It was like the universe (more like Hotch and the gore that surrounded the team) were set on a mission for you to never have sex again. Besides that, more extreme thoughts plagued your mind and told you that maybe he wasn’t attracted to you like that. It often made you go home feeling a little bit insecure.

You knew that it was better to assume, but you were only human. After some pep talk with yourself on the way to his place, you convinced yourself that you would have to have this conversation with him, sooner or later. You thought so hard about this that you even came up with the possibility that he was asexual — you were fine with it if he was, obviously, because being with him made you feel whole. Still, you wanted, you needed to get this off your chest before you exploded with assumptions and unrequited feelings. Unrequited desire.

You decided to try to be subtle. Scratching the back of his head with your nails lovingly, you both watched the movie. "What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you. You could see the goosebumps on his arm, that must have been the trigger for the question coming out of his lips. You gave him a soft smile.

"It's called affection, pretty boy," you kissed the tip of his nose. "And I don't intend on stopping anytime soon."

You kissed his left cheek when he turned to look at the TV screen.

Then, you turned his head gently to kiss the right one. He glanced between your eyes and your lips, so of fucking course you were about to kiss him, but you decided to tease him a little and pecked the tip of his nose and gently kissed his forehead instead. He breathed out a laugh. Ticklish. It made you wonder where else he would be sensitive.

Stop, you slut of a brain.

When you were about to kiss his lips, you withdrew your face from his, smooching his cheek instead. He sighed, oblivious to your real intentions, impatient and utterly, stupidly in love with you.

Oops. There goes your heart. Out the window. Taking your judgment with it.

"Spence?"

"Yes?"

"Can I do something?"

"Yes," he answered. "You know can do anything, baby."

"This is a very dangerous thing to say to a girl who has the feelings I have for you," you said, grinning. His expression morphed into one that almost looked like sheer panick.

You slowly moved to straddle his lap, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wanted to, his legs trapped between yours. You sat yourself on the top of his thighs. He watched every movement feeling like the world stopped and there were the both of you, moving in slow motion, movie long forgotten behind you. His breath hitched when he came to his senses and noticed the position you were in, now that you've done what you had. "Is this okay? It's more comfortable than kissing you like… well, that," you laughed softly.

"Yes. I-It's perfect," he breathed out, hands finding your waist.

You lips finally met his in a kiss that had both of you sighing. You found out that Spencer was a really good kisser — and you were proud to be the one with whom he practiced kissing to perfection —, your lips easily falling into a passionate rhythm. Gasping for air, you pecked him on those perfect lips that were red and puffy from all the assaulting you were doing, but he quickly pulled you in for another, this time, sloppier than ever, encouraged by your own boldness. He was french kissing you. Fairly used to it, but not with the intensity of it, you groaned in welcomed surprise, hands finding the nape of his neck and getting a grip on them, not so gently as you normally did. You pulled his hair down, breaking the kiss, lips tingling and lungs screaming for air. He smirked, feeling smug at the state he left you in.

You rose slightly from his lap, still holding his head and looking straight into his eyes. By holding yourself slightly above him, the pendant of your necklace grazed his chin, like he had imagined many times after watching you fiddle with it. God, it was finally coming true, having you in his arms and intending to let you do whatever you wanted to him and him only, the way that it should be ever since the day you met. You nearly made him go insane, pulling you closer to his body than you ever were, acting like a desperate madman. You smiled down at him and kissed him again, more feverishly than before, trying to tell him through that kiss that you were his. Biting his lower lip and earning a fucking moan, you sat yourself down on him again. You felt his bulge against your clothed core and the light contact made you feel lightheaded.

You were so caught up on him that it almost made you forget you needed to talk to him first. Unfortunately, as you tried to catch your breath and to find the right words to speak, Spencer felt his insecurities creeping up on him. Despite knowing it would be best to talk to you, he felt like voicing it out loud would push you away from him — which he didn't want. He was very comfortable with the indecent small distance between your bodies.

He was fidgety. You knew you needed to address this because your boyfriend wasn't the best at voicing his needs — you remember and giggled internally at how you had been the one to knock on Spencer's door asking him to put an end to your suffering by telling him how you felt. Heh. Kudos to you.

"I wanted to talk about this with you," you murmured, now feeling his kisses peppering the skin of your neck. You knew how much he was hiding from you because he wouldn't stop moving and it was very distracting, but if you didn't speak, it would be the end of you. "I'd ask if you were okay with me and you like this, about taking further steps, shit." You moaned when he fucking bit you and kissed you right after.

He pulled away from you, hands flying up to the back of your head. Foreheads touching, eyes locked in yours. "I want it. I want you, I mean. Been wanting you for some time now—a very long time, yes." He strongly shut his eyes closed, most likely working up the courage to say something. "But I don't want to... disappoint you," he finished, sounding insecure.

Not on your watch.

"Me too, Spence. God, I want you so bad," you answered, unable to look away from him, who now looked down, paying close attention to the rising and falling of your chest. "Hey, look at me, please," you pleaded. His eyes met yours. Oh, those maddening eyes... "Believe me when I tell you, baby, I want you. And if you don't want to do anything, you don't have to. I won't push you, of course. I just wanted to have a conversation with you before, because setting boundaries is important and consent is hot—" he laughed quietly. Making jokes was your go-to way of making situations lighter and he was glad for it then. You smiled when you noticed the sound he made. "And I'm also positively certain that you wouldn't like to have our first time on your couch."

"My first time," he revealed. softly. Eyes not meeting yours.

Oh.

You didn’t falter. "It doesn't change much, baby. I still stand for what I just told you," you assured him, "I want you to enjoy yourself, Spence."

Looking back into your eyes, he declared, "And I want you."

"You can have me," you answered, "You already have."

"You'd need to guide me. You know, hands-on activity. Because I’ve never done it before…" he trailed off.

"Lucky for you, I'm great at teaching."

His grip finds your waist, lips anxiously waiting for yours — and when they touched to mold perfectly in another breathtaking kiss, he felt complete. Like nothing bad could ever happen in the world just because you were in it. His past, his insecurities, the awful things you both saw on the field, nothing mattered. Looking at you, touching you, was a nearly an out of body experience. The things you got him thinking by just kissing him. And he thought his insecurities would get the best of him. Jokes on them, you exist.

You look at him through hooded eyes. "I've never felt like this before. I feel... tingly," he confessed, lovely smile on his face, eyes blinking.

"You're feeling good, handsome," you answered, glancing at his dazed eyes.

A beat of silence. Swallowing second thoughts. "Can you make it better?"

"Is that a request or a challenge?" You asked, grinning.

"A request." He answered shyly, hiding his face on your neck, peppering kisses on your skin. You were going to explode.

"Oh, don't talk to me like that," you shivered, feeling absolutely lost, "I might spoil you and give you everything you want," you sighed.

"Let me have it, then," he answered, voice muffled by your skin.

"I'm all yours, Spencer."

He had the audacity of blushing as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt. You smiled at him. In this state, if he asked for you to run naked around town, you probably would. It was dangerous, to say the least. Softly, yet desperate, the words left his lips. "Can I take this off?" He sucked in a breath. "Please?"

"Yes, pretty boy, you can," you answered. "You can have anything. I thought I already said that."

"Yes—You did. You did," he breathed out between needy kisses across your skin, getting rid of your shirt in no time.

At first, he was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He hadn't seen many naked (or semi-naked) women in front of him, but you were something out of this world. The bra you were wearing matched your skin tone and pushed your breasts together and there was the fucking necklace, almost mocking him by being constantly so close, too close to the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. The view was almost overwhelming by itself. You looked at him, but he couldn't possibly come up with the words that would describe you in that moment. Words had failed him, nothing else in his mind but you. The tool he used to communicate, to access the world and how it shaped reality, to comprehend the mind of another person, to get to know others... He had nothing left. Except from the pulsing of his boner against your clothed pussy, that is.

Just like that, IQ of 187 slashed to 60, Emily Prentiss said, once. Funnily enough, when you passed by wearing a sundress.

Unable to talk but, oh, so able to use his hands, they traveled up to your breasts with a featherlight touch, which didn't stop him from feeling your heartbeat. He let his hands trail over the soft and sheer fabric of the bra you were wearing. Finding your nipples, his touch got more intense. He licked his lips. His actions made you shudder and sent a spark of excitement to your sex. "Pretty," he said. "So, so pretty, my girl."

"Do you like it?" You asked, breathless from a little touching. Pathetic. "I got these thinking of you. Wanna look pretty for you, Spence."

"You are," he said, looking into your eyes, his own foggy, hands reaching to touch your neck. "You're pretty all the time, it's so unfair to me," he murmured. "I really like them on you, but… can I take ‘em off?"

"Yes. You can do anything, Spence."

Spencer wanted to burn the sight of you, in that slightly disheveled state, in the back of his mind so he could remember it forever — not that he would have a hard time trying to remember anything. Nevertheless, he did everything so slowly, almost as if trying to tattoo on the tip of his fingers the softness and temperature of your skin. He inhaled deeply, consumed by your floral-scented perfume and lifted his hands to unclasp your bra. His fingers curiously, but unhurriedly, lowered each of the straps. Like opening a gift that had been so carefully wrapped he didn't want to ruin.

But did he wanted to be ruined by you.

The sight of your bare chest was marvelous, to say the least, and he timidly grazed his fingertips against the exposed area, eliciting goosebumps and a soft whine. His mouth watered, thoughts simply reduced to the need of having you in his mouth. The striped pattern on the soft skin of your breasts around your nipples were faint, barely there, unless if you took a close look at it. It goes without saying that he was blatantly gazing at your bosom at this point.

Pupils dilated, he looked up at you, hungrily, drawing his face closer to you, curls tickling the skin of your collarbone. He inhaled your scent, mind blanking. Tortuously dragging his lips on your skin (and unintentionally smearing some of his saliva on you, he was drooling, after all) as a silent request, the necklace brushing his forehead slightly. The grind of your hips against his answered his plead to taste you.

"Oh—you're so, so good to me, princess," you moaned when he finally wrapped his lips against the nub, playing with the other.

You felt almost overwhelmed with the attention you were getting and the reaction you were having to said attention. Your underwear was sticking almost uncomfortably against your core and you felt yourself aching for some relief, aching for him. So, as Spencer worked his hot tongue on your tits, licking, softly biting, sucking, making a mess on and of you, you busied yourself by chasing the relief you both desperately wanted. The solace it provided you both with was exhilarating and made you feel dazed.

Steadily rocking yourself against him, you earned a few grunts. "You're making a mess of me, pretty boy," you murmured as he switched his attention to the other boob.

"Give it t'me—I want it, I deserve it," he breathed out, body aching with lust, cock pulsing against your covered clit. His words only fueled the fire inside you, the coil in your lower stomach threatening to snap at anytime now.

"Yeah, you do, my boy," you breathed out, pulling the hair on the nape of his neck, nearly tasting your orgasm, "gonna look so pretty when you come for me, won't you, baby?" Both hands gripping your hips, mouth never leaving your skin. You sure would be bruised by tomorrow, but this, this was definitely worth it.

"Yes—Yes, I will," He whined. He fucking whined.

"Tell, me—ah—where do you want to cum, baby?"

"Shit—" until then, you were sure that was a word you'd never hear him saying, let alone that freely. "Gonna—Shitshitshit," moaning out your name.

That's when it hit you that he had cummed his pants. It was such a fat load that it had seeped through both his underwear and his slacks — which prompted you to reach your own high with a moan of his name directly into his ear.

Both of you feeling dizzy, you slump against him, feeling his arms wrapping your frame as you rested your head on his shoulder. You both took deep breaths, the only sound in the room. Well, besides the movie you both totally ignored.

"I can't get up right now... My legs feel wobbly," you chuckled. "Are you okay, Spence?" You asked, looking at him when you didn't get an answer.

"Yeah, 'm fine," he answered, "I mean, I'll be fine as soon as I recover from you."

You laughed sincerely, "From me? What have I done to you?"

"You gave me what I wanted, you spoiled me, you broke me," he said, a silly smile adorning his pretty face. You pushed him playfully. "I can't even explain what I'm feeling right now. My brain has stopped working ever since you straddled me. Are you trying to kill me?"

"No, babe."

"Wrong answer. You're so gonna keep doing that to me, so you'll definitely be trying to killing me from now on." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers with a significant other who is a cam girl and wants them to be in one of their videos? 💃

2 posts in 2 days who do I think I am? See ya'll in a year! /j

CW: NSFW

You do Cam Work and Ask the Slashers to be in your Videos:

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is pretty conservative when it come to sex and such, but he's come around to your cam work, especially since you let him help with the details.

You like when he picks what you were or what scene you might do. You made Thomas feel like a part of it and that made him comfortable with it.

Still, he's very surprised when you ask if he wants to do a video with you. He refuses immediately and you respect that.

You ask again a while later but with more details. Like nobody would know who he was, you would keep his face out of the shot, and the two of you will do whatever he is comfortable with.

Your first video with him is of you riding him. His head isn't in the shot but the rest of his frame is. The size difference goes hard and your audience agrees.

Thomas is a flustered mess when you sit to read with comments with him. Everyone is talking about the new man in your video, gushing about how big he is and how attentive he is. Even with his size it seems your audience could sense his gentle soul, commenting on the chemistry you both have and how they would love to see him again!

Thanks to all the lovely comments, Thomas agrees to do another video even if he doesn't see himself putting his face on camera any time soon.

Michael Myers

Michael honestly does not care that you do cam work.

When you first ask him to be in a video, he pretty much ignores it.

But when you ask again some time later he doesn't see why not.

As long as his face isn't in the video or anything, you can film it, he doesn't really care.

The videos you make with him afterwards are pretty similar to your first video with him.

Usually you bent over while Michael fucks you to tears.

Michael is barely in the shot most of the time. Sometimes it just a close up on you, other times it includes Michael but only ever getting at high as his chest.

Everyone is obsessed with your mystery man. Where did he come from? What was that scar from? Can we see more of him please!!!

Jason Voorhees

We all know that Jason's comfort levels with sex is extremely low and it takes a while for him to become comfortable with physical intimacy. So cam work is certainly going to take some time for him to come around to.

And once he's become more comfortable with that, it's going to take a whole lot longer before he feels comfortable being in a video.

When he does decide to give it a go, he is a real hit!

He refuses to show his face on camera and you do whatever it takes to make sure he is as comfortable as possible.

Before Jason says you can use his name in videos and descriptions, your audience referred to him as 'the gentle giant', which is completely accurate!

No matter your usual content, Jason is nothing but gentle with you when he's in a video.

Brahms Heelshire

Watches your videos over and over again, he loves them. He'll watch you record them and watch them later once you've posted them. He can't get enough.

He's already got his pants off when you ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. You end up fucking even though you're not filming it.

He actually doesn't have much of a problem with having his face on camera. He's still a little insecure about his facial burns but you have alleviated most of that by this point.

And after the first video and he reads all those positive comments. Some are as horny for him as they are for you.

Fully embraces his new pornstar identity. He's insufferable.

He'll be in any video you want and your audience love watching you take care of your needy brat.

Bo Sinclair

Bo is in fully support of your work, it brings some money in and he gets to watch your videos. Even if his possessiveness still often gets the better of him. Whenever he reads comments of people praising you, Bo has an insatiable need to bend you over something just to prove a point.

Gets all cocky and arrogant when you ask if he wants to be in a video.

Needless to say, he agrees to do it.

And he takes to it pretty easily. He knows how to get all of his favourite reactions from you, how to get you pleading and begging for him, and he wants everyone watching to know.

Bo is arrogant and always smirking when the camera is on but it performs well.

He likes to how the camera and film himself entering you. He really does have a terrible ego.

Vincent Sinclair

It gets Vincent flustered, he could admit that, but he appreciates the artistic side of it all. It takes more effort and consideration than one might think!

He likes helping you get ready for a video and taking care of you afterwards.

He's hesitant when you first ask if he wants to be in a video. A part of him wants to do it with you but he's not confident enough in himself.

But he loves making you feel good and at this point he knows he's good at it, so he gives it a try. You can film them without posting them after all, like practise runs.

He may never show his face but he doesn't mind having his body on camera. Sometimes he even just hides his face with his hair instead of keeping his head out of the shot completely.

On Vincent's more self-conscious days, he'll film close ups of him fingering you instead.

He's very good with his hands and your audience agrees. They are very jealous of you.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is pretty neutral on your work, but of course he absolutely loves your videos.

He's mostly just surprised and flustered when you first ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. He thinks you're perfect so he understands why people would want to watch you, but he doesn't really see why people would want to watch him.

But he still agrees to it because he's your biggest supporter!!!

Your audience love the chemistry and intimacy between you both, leaving comments about how real your videos feel.

The videos that perform best are usually the ones where the two of you forgot you were even filming, just giggling together and enjoying each other. Lester gets all nervous and shy when the camera turns on, which is adorable, but forgetting that the camera is there really does help him perform better, the sweetheart.

Your audience love your more thought out and planned videos but appreciate the occasional more relaxed video with your sweet boyfriend.

Bubba Sawyer

Super flustered by your work but he's supportive.

Is super surprised and nervous when you ask if he wants to be in a video.

He agrees to give it a try once you explain that you can always delete it and nobody has to see it if he changes his mind or doesn't like it.

Bubba is just a big sweetie really, and you know just how to turn him into a squirming, blubbering mess.

And your audience love to watch you do it!

In later video's you do, you use the viewers' comments to fluster him even further. Using all the kindest and sweetest comments that say how lovely he is .

Come on, Bubs, they love you, they're being so nice. Why don't you say thank you?

Billy Lenz

Billy loves watching your videos and when you ask if he wants to be in a video with you, he is so excited!

He's completely down to make some home videos but he's a little unsure about putting it online for other people to see.

So you make it so his face isn't visible and let him watch the final edit before uploading it. He thinks it's so hot, he can't say no.

Honestly, you could do really well with just audios alone though. People will go wild for it. Billy unable to keep his mouth shut, all those desperate moans and whines and noises, the sticky wet slapping of skin. Honestly, a video element is just a bonus at this point.

And who gets off to the video the most? Billy obviously!

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Asa monitors your accounts anyway, even if you don't know it. He wants to know what you're posting and how people are responding. Don't want any bullies or trolls, right?

He's probably tried to manipulate you into suggesting it anyway.

He doesn't have much of a problem with your cam work, he's just a possessive bastard and would love to claim you in front of your entire audience.

The mask stays on!

Okay, he designs a new mask to avoid any chance of self criminalisation but whatever.

You two can make it big in BDSM communities.

Ties you up, blindfolds you, gags you. Whatever he feels like, but often seems to focus the camera on your reactions rather than on what he is doing to you. Studying his favourite little specimen.

Your audience already adored you of course, but they also love this new Dom you brought it.

There is no doubt as to who you belong to now.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Obviously Jesse has no problem with being on camera and he already has a pretty big ego, so he'll probably even wear the Chromeskull mask. It's his signature whether it's for his snuff films or your cam work.

Like Asa, you do absolute numbers in the BDSM community. Everyone is very pleased with his fully suited up, masked Dom that you brought in.

He already has his Chromeskull persona all fleshed out so he just brings that energy to your videos.

He's a sadistic Dom and you might have to upload an Aftercare video at some point just to reassure your more loyal audience that you're alright and always well taken care of afterwards.

Otis Driftwood

Is obviously a fan of your videos and isn't going to stop you from making them. You aren't actually fucking anyone else, so he's cool with it. And if he feels particularly jealous or possessive at some point, he knows he's the only one who can actually pin you down and have his way with you.

Oh yeah, he's down to make a few videos with you. He's probably got some old tapes of his own somewhere, long forgotten. He's not shy.

Says the filthiest shit, it kinda becomes his think on your platform.

Otis can be absolutely disgusting but, fortunately, there is an audience for that and they flood to your videos.

Calls you all sorts of names, asks you if you get off on knowing everyone is going to watch him fuck you. That everyone is going to see all the things you let him do to you.

Baby Firefly

Baby loves that you do cam work, she loves performing. She happily does your hair and makeup, she helps you pick out costumes and which toys you'll use in that video.

Hell, she's even filmed a video or two for you!

She's your number one supporter so of course she jumps on camera as soon as you ask if she wants to be in a video.

The two of you are all dolled up and she's magnetic, the audience love her as much as they love you.

The two of you are absolute menaces if you decide to do a livestream, pulling in huge donations because Baby is going to pout and taunt. Why should the two of you put on a show if they're not showing their appreciation properly?

Baby is the type to respond to very low donations with "it's alright, you can just say you're poor". She never promised to play nice and she just thinks you're worth more than that!!!

You end up apologising for her.

People are into it though.

Yautja (Predator)

Your mate doesn't quite get it but he's cool with it.

Is hard as soon as you ask if he wants to be in a video. Yautja's aren't very conservative or prudish when it comes to sex and nudity, so you weren't too surprised.

He loves the thought of taking you, of claiming you, and everyone knowing that you're his mate. That he's a worthy mate for you.

Even when he's a regular feature in your videos, he doesn't completely understand it, he just knows he's into it.

Everyone loves to watch you try to take him fully, the struggle, the determination, the satisfaction when you manage it.

You have cornered the Monster Fucker market. They don't know if it's real, if it's a very elaborate costume, or very realistic animation, either way they are eating it up.

All the other performers who use alien dildos and such are super jealous, obviously.

[starsenha]

BEST FRIENDS CAN FUCK / S.J

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x softdom!jake

Genre ◊ SMUT, best friends to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), alcohol (both of them are drunk), kissing (obvi), liiitle bit of dry humping, fingering, petnames, praising, finger sucking, oral (f. receiving), kind of pwp, unprotected sex (wrap it up), lots of cursing

Word count ◊ 5,2k

Summary ◊ you were sexually frustrated and your best friend Jake offered to help you.

a/n: really thinking abt doing a pt.2, tell what you think! also not proofread hihi

Empty bottles of Soju were littered on the coffee table in front of you, making both of your mind fuzzy with alcohol. You and Jake had been best friends for years, and theses nights sprawled on the couch after a night of drinking had sort of become a tradition.

Jake sat across from you, legs stretched out, his back slouched against the armrest. His hair was a bit messy, and he had a lazy grin from the alcohol. You had both drifted from topic to topic, having effortlessly between school stress, random ass jokes and deeper subjects.

You tipped your head back against the cushions and let out a long groan, closing your eyes. "Honestly, at this point, I'm not even looking for a relationship anymore. I just want someone to hook up with. I'm so sexually frustrated it's fucking ridiculous."

There was a pause before Jake chuckled softly, his laughter low and teasing. "Tell me about it," he said, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. "It’s like... one of the most basic things, right? Why is it so complicated?"

You rolled your head to the side to look at him, meeting his gaze. There was an ease between the two of you that had long since obliterated any awkwardness, but tonight felt different, like the alcohol had loosened something even deeper. “Exactly! It shouldn’t be this hard,” you muttered, biting your lip in frustration. “I just want someone to fuck me good. Is that really too much to ask?”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into an amused smile. "So... what happened to that guy you went out with the other day? Soobin, right? You seemed pretty into him."

You huffed, your frustration bubbling over again as you grabbed the last half-empty bottle of soju, taking a long swig before answering. “Soobin’s sweet. He’s funny, and yeah, he’s super handsome. But… he didn’t make me cum. Like, not even close.”

Jake winced, a sympathetic look crossing his face. "Oof, that sucks."

“Right?” You groaned again, tossing the bottle back onto the coffee table. “Like, he was doing everything right, but it just… wasn’t happening. And I swear, I was so into him, but it’s like… Ugh!” You threw your hands up in exasperation, staring at the ceiling. “I’m cursed or something. At this point, I’d settle for anyone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

He let out a low chuckle, and you looked at him, finding that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. He raised his hand, running it through his hair as if deep in thought. “I’ve never had that problem,” he said casually, his tone light but teasing.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a mix of amusement and curiosity flooding your thoughts. “Oh, really?” you shot back, tilting your head as you shifted in your seat to face him fully. “So, what? You’re telling me you’ve always been able to make every girl you’ve been with cum?”

Jake shrugged, his grin widening. "Pretty much."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but feel a spark of something at his confidence. You'd known Jake for years, and you knew he wasn’t just talking big to impress you. He had a reputation around campus. "Wow, must be nice," you muttered sarcastically.

Jake leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze holding yours. “Maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s the guys you’ve been with.”

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden seriousness. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged again, but his eyes didn’t leave yours, the playful edge in them softening into something more thoughtful. “I mean, sometimes it’s just about chemistry, you know? Maybe these guys just don’t get you. Or maybe…” He hesitated for a second, like he was considering something, before continuing. “Maybe you need someone who actually knows what they’re doing, like you said.”

You frowned, confused by the shift in his tone. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying.”

“No, I mean...” He paused, his gaze dropping to his hands before flicking back up to meet yours. “Maybe someone like… me.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in slowly. “Wait, what?”

Jake leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, the grin still playing on his lips, but there was a hint of nervousness in his posture now. “I mean… we’ve been best friends for how long? We know everything about each other. No taboos, right? And I’m just saying…” He shrugged, though there was an intensity in his gaze now that made your heart race. “If you’re looking for someone who knows what they’re doing… well, you know I do.”

The room seemed to grow quieter, the buzz of the alcohol in your system making everything feel a bit slower, a bit more surreal. You blinked at him, trying to process what he was suggesting. “Yunnie… are you saying…?”

“I’m saying,” he said, his voice soft but sure, “if you want someone to fuck you like you deserve, someone who actually knows how to make you come, then… why not me?”

You let out a snort and swatted Jake playfully on the arm. “Oh my God, Yunnie, you shouldn’t joke about that,” you giggled, feeling the warmth of the alcohol buzz in your system. “You’re clearly drunk.”

Jake laughed along with you, his laughter low and infectious. He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint that always made you smile. “Yeah, I’m drunk,” he admitted, shrugging casually. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not serious.”

You blinked at him, still smiling, but there was a flutter in your stomach now that you couldn’t ignore. “Come on,” you said, trying to keep the tone light. “You can’t just offer to—what, fuck me—and act like that’s normal.”

His smile widened into a smug, teasing grin, and he leaned back a little, crossing his arms over his chest like he was settling in for a challenge. “Why not? You just said you wanted someone who knows what they’re doing. I do. And you know I’d be good at it.” His voice dropped an octave, turning his playful tone into something more suggestive. “And let’s be real, you’re hot as hell. I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, and you laughed again, though it came out a little breathless. “Jake…”

“What?” he continued, his grin never faltering. “You think I don’t notice the way guys stare at you? You’re gorgeous, smart, and funny. But you’ve been wasting your time with these idiots who can’t even make you cum.” He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering even more, eyes never leaving yours. “Let me fix that for you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck. This was so far from any conversation you’d ever had with Jake, but the alcohol had loosened something between you two, making it feel like maybe it wasn’t so crazy after all. “This is insane,” you murmured, shaking your head, but there was a note of hesitation in your voice.

Jake didn’t miss it. His grin softened into something more intense, more focused. He leaned forward again, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between your bodies. “It doesn’t have to be,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It wouldn’t change anything. We’re still best friends, right? Best friends can fuck too.”

Your breath caught in your throat. His face was so close now, so close that you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his lips curved into that confident, teasing smile. His scent—clean, familiar, and slightly tinged with the alcohol—mixed with the heady atmosphere, and you bit your lip, your mind spinning with the possibility. 

He saw the way you hesitated, the way you bit your lip, and his grin turned predatory, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind. He leaned in even closer, his lips just a breath away from yours, his voice low and teasing. “Come on, admit it,” he murmured, his tone laced with heat. “You’ve thought about it before.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. Maybe you had, in the back of your mind, wondered what it would be like to kiss Jake, to feel his hands on you. You're best friend was hot, you couldn't deny it. No one with functioning eyes could deny it. But you’d never let yourself seriously entertain the thought—until now.

The alcohol in your system was doing nothing to help you think clearly. Your lips parted slightly, and without realizing it, you leaned in just a fraction more, closing the gap between you both. “This is crazy,” you whispered again, though the protest felt weak now.

Jake’s grin softened into something more serious, his eyes locked on yours. “Maybe. But maybe it’s exactly what you need.”

That did it. Your restraint snapped, and before you could second-guess yourself, you surged forward and kissed him, hard.

Jake reacted instantly, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as he deepened the kiss. His lips were soft, warm, and they moved against yours with a practiced ease that made your head spin. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, teasing, and you opened up to him, letting him in as your hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

The kiss quickly turned heated, the soft, tentative brushes of lips becoming urgent and hungry. You shifted, climbing into his lap without breaking the kiss, your legs straddling his as you pressed your body against his. The heat between you was palpable, a slow burn that spread through your entire body as you ground your hips down against him.

Jake groaned into the kiss, his hands finding your waist, fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements. “Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so good.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your breathing heavy, your lips swollen from the kiss. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at you, his hands still gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered, though there was no conviction behind the words. Your body was already on fire, your heart racing as his hands slid up your sides, teasing the skin just under your shirt.

Jake chuckled, that smug grin still playing on his lips as he looked up at you with pure, unfiltered desire. “You’re the one who kissed me,” he teased, his voice low and gravelly.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, well… shut up,” you muttered, leaning down to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands roamed your body, igniting sparks everywhere he touched.

The kiss deepened, becoming even more heated as Jake’s hands slid up under your shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your back. You gasped into the kiss, your body arching into his touch, and he took the opportunity to flip you over, pressing you back into the couch cushions as he settled between your legs, his lips never leaving yours.

His weight on top of you felt solid, grounding, and you moaned softly as his hands roamed your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hips. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the heat pooling low in your stomach as he kissed you harder, his body pressing against yours in all the right ways.

“Jake,” you breathed out, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed down your neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Mm?” he hummed, his voice vibrating against your skin as he nipped lightly at your collarbone, his hands still exploring your body, sliding under your shirt, teasing the edge of your bra.

“This is insane,” you whispered, but there was no stopping now, and you both knew it.

Jake grinned against your skin, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “Maybe,” he agreed, his voice rough and low. “But you’re loving every second of it. Like a good little girl," he murmured against the skin of your neck, his breath hot as he praised you. The term affectionate yet assertive sent a thrill through you. You arched your back, pressing closer to him, craving more of his touch, more of his approval.

Jake seemed to sense your need, his hands moving with more confidence, sliding up your thighs, his fingers teasing under the hem of your skirt. “You like that, huh?” he asked, his voice a low growl in your ear. You nodded breathlessly, unable to form words as his fingers danced dangerously close to where you wanted him most.

But he pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a smirk. “Say it,” he commanded softly, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Fuck, yeah,” you managed, your voice shaky with desire.

“Mmm, I thought so,” he said, his fingers now slipping under the fabric, his touch bold and knowing. His confidence was intoxicating, his every move calculated to heighten your arousal.

He shifted, positioning himself between your spread legs, his hands roaming freely. “You’re so responsive,” he whispered, his lips trailing down your collarbone, nipping gently.

His hand moved higher, thumb brushing over the fabric of your underwear, his other hand cradling your face as he looked into your eyes, an intense gaze that held you captive.

You moaned softly, tilting your head back to give him better access as he continued to explore, his movements becoming more insistent. “Please, Jake…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his voice stern yet teasing as he continued to stroke over the fabric, his touch precise as he applied pressure against your clit.

“Please touch me,” you pleaded, the edge in your voice betraying how close you were to losing control.

Jake chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “As you wish,” he murmured before slipping his hand beneath your underwear. His fingers found your wet cunt, and he groaned in appreciation. “So wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” you managed to gasp out, feeling him begin to move his fingers in slow, deliberate circles that had you writhing beneath him.

“That’s right,” he praised as he increased the pressure, his thumb circling your clit in a rhythm that had you gasping. “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

he shifted, his strong hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the couch. He sat back slightly, watching you with that same intense, predatory look that made your heart race. His hand moved down between your legs again, fingers brushing over your sensitive folds, teasing you.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “All spread out, just waiting for me.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers slid along your folds, slow and deliberate. You felt exposed, completely vulnerable to him, and yet the way he was looking at you made you feel powerful at the same time.

“I can feel how much you want this,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your clit in a slow, torturous circle once again. “So desperate for more.”

You moaned softly, your body responding to his touch instantly, your hips rolling up to meet his hand. “Yunnie… please…”

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Please what? You have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

You whimpered, your body aching for him. “Please… do something, anything. I need it.”

He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over yours but not quite touching. “Good girl,” he whispered before slipping one finger inside you, his movements slow and deliberate as he watched your reaction. “So fucking tight for me,” he murmured, his voice full of praise and something darker.

You gasped, your head falling back against the cushions as he began to move his finger in and out of you, the pressure just enough to drive you wild but not enough to satisfy the growing need inside you. “Yun… more, please…”

He chuckled, adding another finger, stretching you in a way that made your toes curl. “Greedy, aren’t you?” he teased, his pace increasing just slightly as he watched your body writhe beneath him.

The way he was talking, the way he praised and teased you, had you on edge, your body thrumming with desire as he expertly worked his fingers inside you. His thumb found your clit again, circling it in a steady rhythm that had your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust. “So wet and tight around my fingers.”

You could barely respond, the pleasure building too quickly. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I want you to come for me, baby. I want to feel you fall apart. You can do that for me, mh?”

His command sent a shockwave through you, and you arched your back, your body clenching around his fingers as you teetered on the edge. He added a third finger, filling you completely, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

You cried out, your body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through you, your muscles tightening around his fingers as he continued to pump them in and out of you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure. Your vision blurred, your body trembling as you came, Jake’s fingers working you through it, his touch never relenting.

As the aftershocks rippled through your body, he slowed his movements, his fingers still inside you, gently stroking, making sure you felt every last bit of sensation before he finally withdrew them.

He looked down at you, a satisfied, smug grin on his face

. His fingers, still glistening from you, slid between your parted lips before you could even react, his dominant side shining through. “Taste yourself,” he ordered softly, his voice laced with a commanding edge that sent a jolt of electricity through your already overstimulated body.

Your lips wrapped around his fingers instinctively, tasting yourself on his skin. He watched you closely, eyes dark with desire, as you obediently sucked his fingers, your tongue swirling around them. The taste was musky, sweet, and raw, and his gaze on you made it all the more intense. He bit his bottom lip, clearly enjoying the sight of you like this, his fingers deep in your mouth. 

“That’s it,” Jake murmured, his voice rough with lust. “You’re such a good girl. You love this, don’t you?” His thumb brushed over your cheek as you nodded, your body aching for him again despite the intensity of what had just happened.

He grinned down at you, that same cocky, confident smirk that had driven you wild all night. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, sliding his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop. He brought his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, tasting both of you as he claimed your mouth once more. His kiss was dominant, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with something darker, more primal.

Jake’s hands moved down your body, caressing your sides, your thighs, teasing every inch of skin until his fingers slipped under your waistband again, pulling your panties down with ease. His lips twitched into a wicked grin as he settled between your thighs, spreading them open with firm, confident hands. “I need to taste you again.”

You whimpered softly at his words, already squirming beneath him, your body hypersensitive from the last orgasm. But Jake didn’t seem to care. If anything, your whininess seemed to fuel him.

Without another word, he lowered himself, his lips brushing teasingly against your inner thigh before moving closer, his breath warm and heavy against your already wet cunt. He paused for just a moment, glancing up at you with a predatory look in his eyes. “Don’t hold back,” he ordered, his voice low and authoritative. “I want to hear every sound.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you.

The first stroke of his tongue sent a shockwave through your body, and you couldn’t stop the high-pitched moan that slipped from your lips. Jake groaned in satisfaction at the sound, gripping your thighs tighter to keep you still as he dove in, his tongue swirling and flicking against your cunt with precision and expertise that left you gasping for air.

“Oh, God—yunnie…” you whimpered, your voice breathy and broken as your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the strands. He groaned against you, the vibration of his voice sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body.

He was relentless, his tongue alternating between soft, teasing strokes and firm, direct pressure, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked lightly, just enough to make you squirm and cry out. “Hmm, so sweet,” he murmured against you, his voice rough with need. “So fucking perfect.”

You were falling apart beneath him, your hips grinding against his face as you chased the pleasure he was giving you, but he was in complete control. His hands held you firmly, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, his mouth moving expertly over you, driving you higher and higher.

Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with the sensations he was giving you. And the sounds—your soft whimpers, the breathless gasps, the desperate moans—Jake couldn’t get enough of them. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire between licks. “Let me hear you. I love the way you sound.”

“Jake, please…” you begged, your voice trembling as the pleasure built, your legs trembling against him. You were getting close again, too close, and he knew it.

“Good girl,” he praised, his lips pressing a kiss to your clit before diving back in, sucking hard enough to make you cry out. “I want you to come on my tongue. I want to taste every bit of you.”

The way he said it—his voice so husky—sent you spiraling. You were whiny now, completely at his mercy, every stroke of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. Jake was relentless, his mouth never letting up as his hands dug into your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sharp cry, your body tensed, and you came, hard, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your thighs shook as Jake continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a trembling, gasping mess beneath him.

When you finally stilled, your chest heaving, Jake pulled back, his face flushed, his lips glistening with your arousal. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning at you with that same smug, satisfied look. “You taste fucking amazing,” he said, his voice low and rough as he climbed back up your body, his hands still lingering on your skin. “I could do that all night.”

You were still catching your breath, your body limp beneath him, but his words sent another wave of heat through you. He leaned down, pressing a slow, deep kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his mouth.

As Jake's mouth left a blazing trail up your body, the air between you charged with an almost electric tension, your need for him grew desperate. The way he had consumed you, driven you to edge after edge, had left you breathless, yet craving something more, something deeper. Lying beneath him, your body still quivering with aftershocks, you found your voice, a whisper filled with raw need. 

"yun, please," you pleaded, your eyes wide as they locked onto his, filled with an earnest desire that you knew he could never resist. "I need you inside me now."

Jake's eyes darkened further, the intensity within them spiking at your words. The sight of you, so vulnerable, so utterly open and needing him, seemed to unravel the last threads of his control. He cursed under his breath, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down your spine. 

"Fuck," he breathed out, his hands already moving to quickly rid himself of his remaining clothes. The sound of fabric rustling was brief, and soon he was as bare as you, his desire evident, his readiness to claim you palpable in the air.

Without another word, but with a gaze that seared into you, Jake positioned himself at your entrance. His hand gripped your thigh, lifting and spreading you open to him as he lined himself up. The head of his cock teased at your wetness, making you both groan at the contact.

Then, with a thrust that left no room for doubt in his intent, he entered you fully, burying himself deep within you in one smooth, firm motion. You cried out, a sound of pure ecstasy, as he filled you completely, stretching you, completing the connection that your bodies seemed to crave.

"You're so tight, so fucking perfect," Jake growled, his voice a blend of admiration and raw lust as he began to move. His thrusts were powerful and deliberate, each one driving deep, hitting just the right spots to make your vision blur.

His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, your thighs, pulling you into every thrust. "Look at you, so desperate for it," he taunted softly, his words degrading yet laced with an undeniable affection that only heightened the intensity between you. "You love this, don't you? My cock filling you up?"

"F-fuck, y-yes," you managed to stammer, the pleasure making it hard to form coherent thoughts. "Please, more, yun, please…"

"That’s it, beg for it," he commanded, his voice rough as his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your moans and his heavy breathing.

"All fucking mine," he asserted again, leaning down to capture your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss that stole your breath away. His lips then trailed to your ear, where he whispered, "Cum for me. I can feel you pulse around me."

The combination of his deep, relentless thrusts and his commanding voice was too much. You felt another climax building rapidly, more intense than the last. "yunnie, I'm going to—" you gasped, unable to finish your sentence as the wave broke over you.

"Fuck, yes," Jake encouraged, feeling your walls tighten around him, sucking him in so deliciously. He wouldn't last long if you continued to clench around him like that. But he kept moving, relentless, driven by the sounds of your pleasure, by the feel of you clenching around him. "That’s it, come for me, come on my cock."

You did, spectacularly, your entire body convulsing as you clung to him, your cries filling the room. And still, he didn't stop, his thrusts never faltering, drawing out your orgasm, prolonging the bliss until you were limp and spent beneath him.

Jake finally slowed, his movements gentling as he came down from his own high, his climax evident in his strained expression and the deep, guttural sound that escaped him as he came inside you, painting your walls white. He collapsed beside you, both of you slick with sweat, breathing heavily, yet wrapped in a profound satisfaction.

Jake, still breathing heavily, let out a low chuckle, pulled out of you, and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you, a satisfied, almost cocky grin on his face. “Wow, that was... something,” he said, his voice laced with humor and exhaustion.

You laughed weakly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. “Yeah,” you agreed, “something is an understatement.”

Jake smirked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “How are you feeling? You good?” His tone softened, the teasing edge giving way to genuine concern as he gently ran his hand along your arm.

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the physicality of what just happened. “Yeah, I’m good. Exhausted, but good.”

He nodded, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin. "Hold on," he said suddenly, getting up with a slight groan, clearly as drained as you were. You watched him as he fumbled for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. He grabbed it, then plopped back down beside you, draping it over both of you before pulling you close to his chest.

"Comfy now?" he asked, his voice softer, more affectionate, as his fingers absentmindedly stroked your arm, grounding you in the moment.

You nestled into him, feeling safe and warm in the cocoon of the blanket and his embrace. “Yeah, much better. You?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. “Completely wrecked, to be honest,” he admitted, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “But in the best way.”

You laughed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of everything, but now wrapped in a comforting warmth. “Same. I don’t think I can move for at least a week.”

Jake smirked and kissed the top of your head, his voice dipping into a teasing tone again. “Well, if that’s the price of making you come multiple times, I’d say it’s worth it.”

You snorted, nudging him with your elbow. “Stop it,” you giggled. “You’re going to give yourself a bigger ego than you already have.”

Jake grinned, unabashed. “Can you blame me? I mean…” He gestured vaguely to your still-tangled bodies, raising an eyebrow. “That was pretty fucking impressive.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you that,” you conceded. “But let’s not make it a habit of me being unable to walk after.”

His grin turned mischievous as he pulled you even closer. “No promises. But hey, maybe we should do this more often. You know, for... stress relief. Studies show it’s great for mental health,” he said with an exaggerated air of seriousness.

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “Oh, really? Studies, huh?”

“Yep,” he nodded sagely, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “As your best friend, it’s my duty to make sure you’re properly… taken care of.”

You smacked him lightly on the chest, but your laughter was infectious, and he chuckled along with you. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, settling back into the warmth of his embrace.

Jake grinned down at you, his fingers still gently stroking your arm in that calming, soothing way. “Maybe,” he agreed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But you like it.”

You smiled, a sense of calm washing over you as the playful banter died down into a comfortable silence. The exhaustion was starting to catch up to both of you, but there was something so peaceful about the way you fit against each other, the post-storm calm settling in.

As your eyes started to drift closed, you mumbled, “We really should do this more often.”

Jake’s voice, equally sleepy but laced with amusement, replied, “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”