#there's. no music? in the back half of the episode??
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theoutcastrogue · 3 days ago
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I'll agree with everyone that Arcane season 2 needed a lot more time for all those character arcs and storylines. A few more episodes, maybe a whole other season.
But I only arrived at this conclusion in Act II, when certain things (reunions, conflicts internal and external) stopped making much sense. Until then, I honestly liked the economical storytelling. I'm cool with time skips, I don't need everything spelled out, and letting the audience fill in the gaps can be a good thing. I also truly loved how much plot (and not just aesthetics) they managed to fit in the music intros, these were great.
That said, it's not a film you watch in the theatre, it's on netflix (and torrents and such), you can rewatch stuff. And I did rewatch stuff, and I had missed several details the first time. Is that a a flaw? I don't know, I think it rewards revisiting it. The animation is SO GOOD, and it doesn't just look gorgeous, it conveys so much.
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what a frame
I saw many complaints about Vi's pit fighter phase specifically, that it needed more space, and not just a music video. Hard disagree. The music video was brilliant, it told a whole story with a beginning, a middle and an end, with ascension (well. of a sort.) and downfall, with Vi's emotional state made clear at every step, and it showed very well the huge difference of what it's like to crawl back home wasted and all fucked up WITH someone to pick you up, and WITHOUT. If you've ever been in the general vicinity of a Drinking Problem, you know what I mean. Exaggerated violence notwithstanding, it was all incredibly realistic. In a League of Legends adaptation!
Could they stretch it to like half an episode and make it good? Sure! But there was no narrative necessity, imo, those 2 minutes without dialogue said it all, and that's a huge compliment.
And maybe if they hadn't released the WHOLE thing in advance for promotion, there would be less complaints. Seriously, that official clip was a terrible idea: what should have been a a teaser turned out to be a spoiler. Or maybe the audience yearned for more scenes with Vi beating the shit out of people and getting wrecked in turn, which hey, can't blame them. But within the narrative of the series, it worked amazingly.
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swallowtailed · 2 months ago
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god. fuck. hxh 116
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annabelle--cane · 12 days ago
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okay. collection of disparate thoughts on the good hal/bad hal thing:
-> I get, mechanically, why they went for it as a creative decision. I can buy the hal we see in the cutler flashbacks and the hal we see in the present day as being the same person because they're separated by sixty years, people change with time, but clearly what they wanted was for hal to go full villain mode in the last episode, and simply making him have a breakdown and do a heel turn on his personality wouldn't make sense. and like, last episode evil!hal is really fun, he's a smug villain who does dance numbers and is blunt enough to deliver the show's thesis as parting wisdom, I see the reasoning.
-> but I'm not sure how much of that was planned from hal's introduction? he says things like "I've been so many people" and "you've got the wrong man, I'm not him anymore," but it always reads as more metaphorical until s5. hal always says "me" when referring to his Evil Self, up until the middle of s5 where he starts saying "him."
-> and because (in my opinion) this element was added for a mechanical function, it overwrites thematic ground we've already covered before. when george split his monstrosity off from himself and called the wolf "it," that was a problem he had to overcome; when mitchell tried to deny his own agency and say he wasn't in control when he hurt people, that was a flaw that got corrected. then in hal's case they flip the script and say it really isn't him who does the atrocities. they try to work around it a bit, having good!hal kill someone and feed in secret so he does have things he's responsible for that lead into the change, but it still feels weird.
-> I also get where this comes from, metaphorically. there is a trend in sci fi/fantasy of portraying addict characters with this sort of jekyll-and-hyde dualism, literalizing internal struggles and the way people change while under the influence of mood altering substances, you find shades of it as far back as medieval morality plays where an everyman's vices and virtues manifest into physical form to duke it out. I don't love it, but I see where the emotional core of it comes from, and I also think it works best when (like with jekyll and hyde) the story comes to the conclusion that the two aspects aren't ultimately different people, and that's not really what they do with hal. unless...
-> how different are good hal and bad hal, anyway? obviously their moral codes are different, but are they different people or two aspects of the same person? bad hal isn't a neat freak, but he shares good hal's passion for vintage showtunes and werewolves who visibly want to do him harm. he's genuinely distraught when lady catherine dies, he keeps up appearances with lady mary for 250 years, young leo gets right under his skin, and he was willing to let let tom and alex have a nice send off from him. and, as should probably go without saying, good hal can also be a bastard, too. he almost attacks people several times, he says awful things to tom, he recruits ian and hides it, he kills larry and hides it, he feeds and hides it even when directly asked, etc. if the show had had one more season, I think the obvious next step for this arc would be bad hal joining the gang and everyone realizing that he's still just hal. this isn't a stranger, their friend hasn't died, this is the same man they've been living with for months and he still thinks the lute is the coolest of all medieval stringed instruments. the only real difference is that now he's decided to stop trying, but he's perfectly capable of changing his mind back.
-> what actually is his deal? what, specifically, is the good hal/bad hal thing? other vampires don't do that, other old ones aren't like that, the closest another character comes is herrick's whole amnesia arc but that was because he came back from the dead. I've seen other people go through and track how hal does actually show a good number of symptoms of a dissociative disorder (traumatic early childhood, out-of-body experiences, some amount of amnesia, etc.), but given that he says he feels like "both" and "neither" of himself when the devil tricks them all into thinking they've been un-cursed, I think we're supposed to read it as something supernatural. the best headcanon I've got is it is a dissociative disorder but hal thinks it's supernatural so the devil took it away as part of the whole too-good-to-be-true thing, but I don't think that was the intention and the show leaves it super unclear, they just drop it in and expect us to roll with it.
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yappacadaver · 5 months ago
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THAT'S 24 FUCKING SECONDS BABEYYYYYYY
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just-spacetrash · 4 months ago
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😵
#guysssssss..... im sentinelbrained again.........#maybe next time ill get into something a single other person likes too but today is not that day#i feel bad yapping about this show to anyone directly cause it really is not that Good but. i am having sososo much fun with it#its such a good time#im on the third season and well it turns out the main character stoic cop guy has an evil toxic dad and some major daddy issues#and in this ep hes doing like. the whole 'you didnt want me to be different you made me feel like a freak but this is who i am this is me'#and like. yea its about the sentinel thing but u are also the man living with your Super Special boy bestie#who serial killers use as bait to lure you out like weekly and who you got a soul bond with and stuff so. could be nothing really#all the acting in this show is so like. i mean its not Bad bad but its very exaggerated at times fshsjsj and its so much fun#every episode has a 10minute chase scene#and these gaudy half fade commercial break title cards#so sillyy its so sillyyyy aagh#my post#anyways#you guys are lucky the sentinel tag here is so hard to navigate cos otherwise youd be getting another spamming of gifs right about now#theres a bunch of scenes where you only realize halfway through that sandburgs there too cos jim and simon are so tall compared to him#and he doesnt get any lines anyway. and it always makes me laugh#every single ep has a side charcater with one ear pierced. sandburg has one ear pierced. jim has one ear pierced. everyone does its the 90s#the music is so obnoxious and theyre playing it All the time and its the funniest thing#and the sound bites when jims using his Sentinel Senses are even funnier#anyway ye its not a good show and its not anywhere and nobody knows it but. i like it soso much#the constant slo-mo when something Dramatic happens too omfg can we bring it back
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nokmietarchive · 1 year ago
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just went full ham and designed a villainsona for rottmnt wahaha
figured it would be fun to fill out a theme following four guardians. we got turtles, we got dragons... so my guys is based around the white tiger (백호)
the bit im committing to is he's just taking advantage of the fact that everyone in the universe has the cybersecurity of a wet paper bag. i mean LOOK at the passwords people are using! theyre basically begging to get their servers compromised!!!!!
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seth-whumps · 6 months ago
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I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks
welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!
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Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!
RULES
Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)
No AI generated content allowed
OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)
Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)
NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)
If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)
Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?
This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting
TAGGING
Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer
Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!
If desired, tag the medium you used
Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)
If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!
IMPORTANT:
There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.
Prompts (text):
Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”
Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”
Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”
It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”
Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”
Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”
Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”
Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”
White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”
Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”
A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”
It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”
It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”
Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”
I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”
Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”
In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”
I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”
The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”
It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”
Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”
Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”
Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”
Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”
We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”
That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”
What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”
Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”
Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”
I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”
Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”
ALTERNATES:
Seizure
Choking
Withdrawal
Mugged
Wild animal attack
Hangover
Strain/sprain
Broken bone
Bloody nose
Panic attack
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sleepyhoon · 1 month ago
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THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH
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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!!
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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murdrdocs · 4 months ago
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free use vibes; domesticity; mirrors; MDNI 18+ w/ LOGAN HOWLETT
thoughts of disgusting domesticity w logan.
he's not the most patient man ever. he likes to get things done as soon as he can, especially when it's something he wants done. but he'll try to wait for you. he'll try to contain himself while sits on the bed when you tell him you'll be back soon.
"just gotta do a few things first."
his hands resting on his thighs, his bored eyes watching whatever show you've been re-binging as it plays on the tv. he hears a playlist start playing in the bathroom, followed by the sound of the shower water running, and he has the urge to get up and join you now. but he promised he would wait, and he knows how pissy you can get if he interrupts your routine.
so he watches the end of this episode and lays back when the next starts. the shower ends, the volume of your music is turned down, and he thinks that you'll be out soon.
but then the episode ends and logan realizes that the two of you have different definitions of 'soon'. he can't wait any longer, walking into the bathroom with completely confidence.
"i'm almost done, i swear."
logan nods, arms crossed over his chest as he looks down at your frame. "mkay. you can finish."
you thank him and logan knows you're waiting for him to leave, but he doesn't. you can finish your routine, but he's getting what he came here for.
so he pulls your little shorts down and pushes your frilly little panties to the side, freeing his cock from his sweatpants and pushing your upper half down by the curl in your lower back.
you complain at first, but logan asks you if you want him to stop and his tip is nestled right there, leaving your greedy cunt to clench around nothing but air, desperately trying to tug him in. you shake your head, dropping whatever product you were about to use and bracing yourself with a hand on the counter and the other on the mirror.
and logan fucks you. he watches you watch yourself, unable to stop himself from smiling because you're finally seeing what he sees. maybe you'll finally understand why he's so addicted, why he couldn't keep his hands to himself for another ten minutes because this perfect pussy was prancing around in the other room, gallivanting around as if she wasn't hungry for this right here.
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markedbyindecision · 2 years ago
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THAT WAS SO GOOD
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writingbuckets · 19 days ago
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The Hot Take: Part 1
paige bueckers x influencer!reader
wc: 1.7k
a/n: here's part 1 to my influencer!reader fic based on the poll i posted a few days ago. i took a few days to write out the first few parts to this storyline, so i shall see yall in a few days <3
**********
Sitting in the studio, you shuffle through the day's notes as you wait for Taylor, your partner and co-host, to get ready. You glance around at the familiar setup: soundproof walls, the big red “ON AIR” sign, and Taylor’s mic with her distinctive bright blue pop filter across from you. The Hot Take has come a long way since you and Taylor first started recording episodes in a makeshift studio in your apartment.
Finally, Taylor takes her seat, grinning like she’s got a secret. You recognize that glint in her eye; it’s the same look she gives you right before she drops a bombshell on air. You chuckle, half expecting her to share some wild celebrity tidbit or throw in an off-the-cuff comment that’ll leave fans buzzing.
“All right, ready to kick things off?” she asks, sliding her headphones on. You nod, pressing record, and the familiar flow of the episode begins.
The conversation starts with your typical lineup of the week’s big pop culture and sports events. You trade opinions on a recent basketball draft, discuss an unexpected celebrity breakup, and riff on a few new album releases. Fans love the way you and Taylor can pivot from debating sports stats to analyzing the latest music trends—all with a laid-back vibe that feels like a natural conversation between friends.
As you move toward wrapping up, Taylor flashes you a mischievous smile, one that promises she’s about to shake things up. Before you can question her, she clears her throat, leaning close to the mic with a conspiratorial whisper.
“So, Y/N, we always promise full transparency on this show, right?”
You nod, slightly suspicious but playing along. “Right...”
She grins, eyes sparkling. “Well, I feel like it’s time I share something personal—a bit of a confession, if you will.”
You raise an eyebrow, curious. “Oh, really? Do tell.”
“It’s about my celebrity crush,” she declares, and you feel your eyebrows shoot up. Celebrity crush? That’s…random. But Taylor’s got that devilish glint, so you know she’s leading somewhere.
“Oh, please, Taylor,” you say, laughing. “Are you seriously bringing up your celebrity crush right now?”
“Of course! It’s relevant to sports, I promise.” She laughs, her voice dipping into an almost-reverent tone. “Because it’s Paige Bueckers.”
There’s a beat where you try to process that. Paige Bueckers—a name practically synonymous with college basketball greatness, a player with such raw talent and drive that her highlight reels are legend. Of course, Paige has the kind of skill and flair on the court that would make her anyone’s “celebrity crush.”
Without thinking, you roll your eyes and let out a laugh. “Oh, Paige Bueckers? Come on, Tay. Isn’t she a bit…overrated?”
The words escape before you have time to reconsider, and you catch Taylor’s jaw dropping in mock horror, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes go wide, as if you’ve just blasphemed on live radio.
“Overrated?” she exclaims, her voice full of exaggerated shock. “Y/N, you’ve officially crossed into hot-take territory. Are you serious?”
You shrug, leaning back in your chair as you play it off. “I mean, yeah, she’s good. She’s really good. But let’s be real—people act like she’s already the GOAT, and she’s, what, twenty-three? I think she’s talented, sure, but maybe the hype’s a little…excessive?”
Taylor shakes her head, laughing as she turns back to the camera, knowing your listeners will eat this up. “Listeners, you heard it here first—Y/N thinks Paige Bueckers is overrated. Prepare for the inevitable Twitter meltdown!”
You chuckle, figuring it’s all in good fun. You and Taylor are known for your candid takes; it’s what fans love most about the show. This will be just another talking point, something people can debate online. You wrap up the episode, signing off with your usual mix of humor and playful barbs, and end the recording.
**********
A few hours later, you’re back at home, scrolling through Twitter out of habit. Normally, after an episode drops, fans will post funny clips or start discussions around your and Taylor’s latest takes. You expect some buzz, but this? The reaction is way bigger than usual.
Your notifications are packed with tags, mentions, and—oh. There it is. A clip of your “overrated” comment has already gone viral. One account with a sizable following has posted it, captioning, “Did Y/N just call Paige Bueckers overrated?!” The clip has already racked up thousands of likes and retweets, with fans both defending and attacking your opinion.
Curious, you start scrolling through the replies. A lot of fans are indignant, passionately defending Paige’s talent and listing her stats, achievements, and highlights as if you’ve personally insulted them.
“Overrated? Y/N clearly hasn’t seen a game.” “She’s one of the best of her generation—how can you not see that?” “Bet Y/N wouldn’t last five minutes trying to guard her.”
But there’s also a crowd that’s rallying behind your comment. Some fans are laughing, glad to hear someone finally say what they’d been thinking. “Finally, someone not drinking the Kool-Aid,” one user writes. Another adds, “She’s great, but let’s not pretend like there aren’t other amazing players out there.”
The debate is heated, and the takes are piling up faster than you can read them all. A quick glance at Twitter’s trending page reveals that your name and Paige Bueckers are both climbing the ranks.
You sigh, amused but slightly annoyed. It’s one thing to have fans debating, but Twitter is practically ablaze, turning what you thought was a lighthearted comment into a viral controversy.
By the next morning, things have escalated even further. As you sip your coffee, you notice that your notifications have doubled overnight. And this time, it’s not just random fans. Paige’s teammates are chiming in too.
Azzi Fudd has posted a clip of Paige landing a flawless three-pointer, captioned, “@Y/N, this looks overrated to you?” Jana’s added her two cents with a subtweet: “We all have opinions, I guess. Can’t wait for the next episode.” And KK has dropped a classic response: “Hot takes are like free throws—not everyone hits.”
Each comment comes with thousands of likes and retweets, adding fuel to an already blazing fire. You find yourself chuckling, impressed despite yourself. They’re all coming to Paige’s defense with such witty precision that it’s hard not to admire the loyalty.
Yet, you also feel a prickle of defensiveness. Sure, Paige is good—great, even—but does that mean everyone has to agree that she’s the best thing in sports right now? You pride yourself on being honest and not falling for the hype, but as you scroll through the seemingly endless tweets, part of you wonders if you went too far.
Taylor texts you with a stream of laughing emojis. “Looks like you got the basketball world up in arms. Congratulations!”
You text her back, trying to stay cool. “All in a day’s work, right? Who knew Paige Bueckers had such a dedicated fanbase?”
“Did you really think people would let you get away with that one?” she teases, sending a gif of a player shrugging. “I think you just made Twitter history.”
You laugh, trying to play it off, but as the morning wears on, you can’t stop refreshing the timeline. More comments flood in from basketball fans, analysts, and even a few pro athletes. It’s spiraled into something you never intended—an opinion piece turned viral moment.
That night, you’re lying in bed, scrolling through the remnants of the day’s chaos when a new notification catches your eye. It’s a message request, from someone with a verified blue check. Your heart skips a beat as you read the name.
Paige Bueckers.
You hesitate, not sure what to expect. You’ve been in the public eye long enough to know that some people thrive off the chance to “clap back,” and you half expect Paige to lay into you.
You click to open the message, bracing yourself, but what you read is the last thing you anticipated. The message is short, her tone direct but surprisingly playful: “Overrated, huh? Bold opinion. Care to explain?”
For a moment, you just stare, processing the fact that Paige Bueckers herself has taken notice of your podcast—and your opinion. There’s something oddly thrilling about the attention, and you can’t help but wonder what this conversation might lead to.
With a smirk, you hover over the reply button. You know that a response could pull you further into this whole debate, maybe even turn the interaction into something bigger than a passing Twitter controversy. But there’s a thrill in it—this was Paige Bueckers, after all. The fact that she’d reached out, even playfully, meant you’d gotten her attention. For someone so used to being idolized and hyped up, maybe your perspective had struck a nerve.
Do I play it cool? Double down?
A few clever responses run through your mind, each one more sarcastic than the last, but you decide to keep it simple and direct. After all, Paige’s message had a vibe—she wasn’t attacking you. She was…what? Curious? Challenging you? Either way, it felt like an invitation, and you weren’t about to back down.
“Guess I’m just not a fan of hype,” you type, keeping it short but loaded. You hit send before you can second-guess it.
Not even a minute later, a new notification pops up.
“Fair enough,” she replies. “But if you think it’s all hype, maybe you’ve been watching the wrong games.”
You stare at her reply, feeling a flicker of competitiveness spark to life. She was biting back, not with hostility but with confidence—clearly ready to defend herself without missing a beat. Part of you is annoyed, but a bigger part admires the quick comeback.
So you respond again, more playful this time. “Guess I’ll have to tune in to one of your good games, then.”
A couple of seconds pass, then another message from Paige appears, this one laced with a challenge: “Tell you what—how about courtside seats to the next game? See if you still think I’m overrated.”
For a moment, you’re caught off guard. Was she…inviting you? To her game? This was turning into something more than just a Twitter exchange. The idea of seeing her play up close, watching her skill in real-time, fills you with a mix of intrigue and resistance.
You sit with her offer, fingers poised above the keyboard. Every instinct is telling you to throw a snarky response back, but curiosity gets the better of you. Before you realize it, you’re typing, accepting her offer with a short, “I’ll be there.”
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chososcamgirl · 1 month ago
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(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER CHAPTER TWELVE: sweet dreams, tn
masterlist
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“So where’s your lover boy?” Panda asks, his voice cutting through the cacophony of laughter and music as he trails you through the crowded corridors, dodging the sea of bodies like a seasoned sailor.
Pit pit pit pit—the sound of eight pairs of feet creates a chaotic rhythm that echoes off the walls, blending with the chatter, screams from fangirls, and the distant sound of music. The air is thick with anticipation, a pre-show buzz that somehow amplifies your frustration.
You stop suddenly, squinting against the bright lights overhead, still disoriented in this maze of unfamiliar hallways. You were reread Megumi’s text for the hundredth time.
“It’s simple, just walk straight, take the second left, and then the first right.”
“Simple my ass,” you mutter, irritation creeping into your voice. You can feel the fabric of your outfit constricting slightly as your heart races—not just from the crowd, but from the thought of him, wherever he might be.
“Yn, do you even know where you’re going?” Nobara interjects, arms crossed and feet tapping impatiently. “I didn’t put on my red bottoms just to wander around like a lost kid in target.”
Her tone is playful, but there’s an edge of seriousness. You can picture her frustration—she's here to make an impression, and you can’t let her down. She mumbles something under her breath, probably a jab about you and megumi, which she blames on you ovulating. You roll your eyes, mentally flipping her off.
“Yn, maybe you should use your third eye to find him,” Panda suggests, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
“Third eye?” you ask, bewildered.
“Your vagina” he raises an eyebrow, teasingly dragging out the moment.
Maki snickers.
“Maki, why are you laughing? Shouldn’t you be helping?” Panda shoots back, exasperated, though his tone is more playful than annoyed.
Maki rolls her eyes but doesn’t miss a beat. She raises her fist, mock-threatening to punch Panda, but they both stumble back, narrowly avoiding a group of crew members wrestling with a mountain of band equipment. One of them shoots you a bemused glance, clearly accustomed to the chaotic energy that follows your group.
“Shit, sorry, everyone,” you murmur, barely looking up from your phone. Your thumbs fly over the screen, sending a heated text to that infuriatingly charming guitarist.
Your frustration simmers just below the surface, not just from his latest blunder but from the way your emotions twist like a tangled cord—half excitement, half anxiety.
You can’t help but think of how he always manages to distract you, his grin igniting a flutter in your chest. The irony of searching for him while being completely consumed by thoughts of him doesn’t escape you.
“Yn?” A voice echoes through the dimly lit corridor, pulling you from your thoughts.
You look up to find Megumi standing there, his expression softening as he meets your gaze.
“Hey,” you reply, your voice a gentle murmur, but he hears you easily.
The surrounding group begins to disperse, each member pairing off into their conversations—Maki and Yuta engaged about their next date, Panda and Toge animatedly debriefing about the latest talk gush episode, and Nobara mocking Yuji about his latest blunder on Twitter, laughter spilling out like a warm embrace.
“Sooo, how’s it going?” you ask slyly, trying to mask the sudden flutter of nerves that stir within you.
Why does this feel different tonight? You’ve shared countless moments, yet there’s an undeniable weight in the air that makes your heart race.
A smirk curls at the corners of Megumi’s lips, amusement dancing in his eyes. He finds your nervousness both cute and entertaining.
“You know my fans would kill you if they found out the mystery girl I’ve been seeing is at the show tonight.”
You arch an eyebrow, a playful glint in your gaze. Your fingers find their way to his chest, lightly tracing the fabric of his shirt before hovering near his lips, an invitation and a tease. His breath hitches, hanging in the air like an unspoken promise, thick with unacknowledged tension.
“Guess we’ll just have to keep it a secret then, huh?” you reply, leaning in slightly, enjoying the way his pulse quickens under your touch.
“Oi, come on, lovebirds! We perform in twenty!” a voice calls from behind you, interrupting the moment. It’s the white-haired boy, his tone both teasing and urgent.
You glance back at him, rolling your eyes playfully as you stick out your tongue.
“Can’t a girl have a moment?” you shoot back, a lightness in your voice that contrasts with the intensity of the moment you just shared.
“Seems like you have to go,” you say, brushing imaginary nerves off his shoulders with a teasing gesture, your fingertips lingering a moment too long.
Megumi gazes at you in silence, as if he’s trying to memorise every detail—the way your hair falls around your shoulders, the sparkle in your eyes that seems to illuminate the dim corridor.
Were you always this beautiful, or is it just the shoddy lighting casting a warm glow around you?
“Good luck,” you say, rising onto your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. The warmth of your lips against his skin sends a thrill through you, a jolt of something unspoken.
With that, you turn and dash off to catch up with your friends, laughter bubbling up as you leave him behind, your heart still racing.
You glance back to find Megumi standing there, visibly starstruck, watching you with a mix of admiration and disbelief. There’s a new softness in his gaze, one that makes your chest tighten with something you can’t quite name.
You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree, as you turn away.
God, he was down bad.
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extras!
• COME BACK SEUNGHAN 🙏🙏
• yn lowkey gafs about megumi now chat…
• is this the enemjes to lovers we were all longing for? lol just wait until next chapter
• yn was ON that ledge like fully over the barricade SOMEONE HELP THE POOR GIRL
• ynmegumi interaction again hiiiii
• are they… falling in love with eachother???
• oh there’s sukuna hi boyfie
• he got another number… just for us? awww😍😍
• if he wanted to he would
a/n: FINALLY UP TO DATE WITH THE CHAPTERS EVERYBODY CHEER!!! this was lowkey a filler chapter but next chapter is going to be so GOOD. like i said we’re just getting started? you thought this was going to be a fluffy fic? LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER
taglist: @shokosbunny @luvvmae @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @noodles-icetea @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @renbittt @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @oroborosttheiii @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @pastriepuppy @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm
*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!
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luvacookie · 9 months ago
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mr steal ur girl.
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eren notices an unfamiliar face at one of his frat parties…
❥ warnings : reiner bein a dick, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), nicknames, squirting, porn w a plot, intended use of lower case, mildly proof read, shy-ish reader, black fem coded.
❥ cookie for ur thoughts ? : my first post, my first aot idea >~< ! idk how people will respond to this. i need to write a lil sum sum for con, i will work on it…
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“pleaseee ! you never come out with me! plus you get to be around reiner.”
pieck stared at you through the floor length mirror, adjusting her black skin tight dress as you ignored her and continued to scroll through your phone. as per usual, she was going to one of her parties hosted by her friends and as per usual she was asking you to join her.
normally you declined, opting to stay wrapped up in bed, catching up on one of your hour long k-dramas episodes or looking over work you did in a lecture.
parties were not your scene and they never had been.
“pieck… i don’t know…” you responded sceptically, curling the end of your braid around your finger.
“i can set you up with reiner, he talks about you all the time you know,” pieck said walking over to your bed.
you sighed, you knew she was just using your delusional crush on reiner to lure you in and unfortunately it was working.
you pushed your glasses up, exhaling defeatedly. pieck smiled and clapped her hands together, jumping up from the bed.
“we have to make sure you look cute as fuck so shower, skincare, makeup, whatever you need to do and by time you get out i’ll have a cute fit for you!” she said happily, digging through your clothes.
you hauled yourself out of bed, grabbing your towel and headed to the shower. you cleaned up nicely, freshening yourself up for the party. you put your braids into a half-up half-down with a side parting, laying your edges with a decorative heart.
pieck had picked out a two piece pink set for you with white string heels, you matched your accessories accordingly with pink hair clips and white glasses.
she smiled at you in awe. “you look so fuckin’ good right now! you seriously need to get out more.”
you looked down shyly, “are you sure pie’? this is so out of my zone.”
“oh my god, of course i’m sure, now come on. reiner won’t wait all night,” she giggled.
she grabbed you by the hand and dragged you to her convertible, making sure to let the top down so the warm night air hit your faces. the ride there was filled with vibes and giggles, your nerves slowly disappearing.
soon enough you arrived at the frat house, the musics blaring through all the open doors and windows. people were dancing on the lawn, cars pulled up in every direction. pieck dragged you through the crowd, stopping for a couple seconds at a time to say hi to her mutuals.
soon enough you found your way into the kitchen with her where the rest of your friend group was.
“hey guys!” pieck called out over the music and they all greeted her back.
“no fuckin’ way you brought y/n,” connie said, licking his paper and putting the blunt behind his ear.
you waved at him, smiling lightly.
“well damn, who woulda thought,” annie said from beside him, holding a red solo cup.
“she finally managed to convince me soooo…” you trailed off leaning against the counter.
“you look hot though,” sasha commented, a lazy smile on her face as if she was already high.
“mmm, cheers to that,” reiner said from behind you.
you turned around, looking him up and down. he had a simple white tee on that hugged his arms perfectly, a pair of black cargo’s with a silver chain. he handed you a cup and knocked it with yours, tipping the contents of it back.
you stared at him briefly, watching his throat move as he swallowed. you followed shortly after, pulling a face as the liquor burned your throat.
everyone spoke amongst themselves, pieck catching up on all the lost drinks, leaving you and reiner to have a sweet conversation.
“why don’t i see you out enough?” he asked, looking down at you.
you turned your head to the side, the eye contact making your stomach flip, “not really my thing.”
“they should be,” he followed up quickly, “you’re too pretty to be kept hostage in your dorm.”
you looked at him, smiling. “thanks.”
“no problem sweetheart,” he poured himself another drink, refilling yours too.
“you drink a lot?” he asked, sipping on his mix.
“not really, only when i come to these things, which is basically never,” you chuckled lightly, tasting your drink.
“i’m gonna have to force pieck to bring you out more, you’re too fuckin’ pretty darling.”
“rei, stop you’re making me feel shy,” you sighed, looking at him with obvious heart eyes.
he made a noise in his throat, a cocky smirk on his face. “dance with me?”
you stared, your brain slowly registering before you nodded. you turned to pieck, gesturing that you were going with reiner and she gave you a massive thumbs up in encouragement.
reiner took your hand in his and lead you to where the music was the loudest, putting your hands around his neck as his met your waist. he stayed with you like that for the majority of the song, his eyes holding yours.
your acrylics danced at the nape of his neck, as the grip on your waist slowly became tighter. he pulled you close enough for your chests to be touching, forcing you to look up at his height.
“are you even listening ? hellooo?”
“yeah..yeah, who’s that?” eren asked, ignoring whatever armin was saying.
armin looked around, “who?”
“her,” eren said, nodding in your direction.
“oh, y/n l/n. she’s in my english major,” armin said dismissively.
eren nodded, watching how you were slowly grinding on reiner, or realistically how your tits were moving in your dress. he had never seen you before, so how did you know reiner of all people?
as the song ended you pulled reiner down to your height, muttering something to him in which he nodded. you left the room, leaving reiner to join one of his other group of friends, though he didn’t see where you left to as porco joined him and armin.
you returned to the kitchen where connie was left on his own, tapping the ash off his blunt into the sink.
“you and reiner?” he asked, his words slightly slowed.
you poured a shot, smiling to yourself. “maybe. i don’t know.”
you tipped it back as he continued talking to you. “he likes you, you know that right?”
you reapplied your lipgloss, “does he?”
“for real, he talks about you all the time,” he inhaled slowly.
“that’s cute. i like him too,” you smiled at connie.
he exhaled and turned the roll to you, “you smoke?”
“no… i’ve only hit once before,” you admitted, staring at it.
“you don’t wanna hit that shit, probably laced,” came a deep voice from behind you.
you turned to see eren leaning on the door frame, staring at you. he was wearing simple grey sweats and a white tee, his hair pulled back into a messy bun.
“fuck off yaeger,” connie muttered, rolling his eyes, smoke exhaling his mouth with a string of cusses following.
he ignored connie, focusing his attention on you. “you’ve never been to one of these before have you?”
“do i stand out that bad?” you shook your head, the sound of your acrylic tapping the glass following.
eren walked round the counter, pouring himself straight whiskey. “oh you stand out… would’ve remembered your face.”
you tip your head to the side and glance back at connie who stares at you blankly. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“means your cute, your boyfriend is lucky,” he comments swiftly.
“my boyfriend ?” you question, toying with the curly end of your braid.
“reiner. i would think so anyways after the way you were dancing with him,” he responds, a glint in his eye as if he was digging for information.
you look up and make eye contact with him. “he’s not my boyfriend—”
“not yet anyways,” connie interrupts.
you felt your face flush, unsure if you had turned a shade of red or not. you shook your head and had another shaky shot, the alcohol seeping it’s way into your bloodstream.
“what’s your name ?” eren asks, sipping vodka straight from the bottle that was left on the counter.
“y/n,” you responded. “don’t worry, i know who you are eren.”
he tipped his head to the side slightly, he liked the way you said his name.
he hummed, continuing his drink when his friend armin entered the room.
“are reiner and annie fucking or something ?” he asks, a twinge of annoyance in his tone.
you turned to look at armin, your heart slightly dropping. “what do you mean ?”
armin looks at you as if he hadn’t registered you were in the room, “n-nothing. just the way they were talkin’ and dancing and shit..”
you were sure you felt your heart drop this time. annie and reiner ? they had never gave an indication that they liked each other.
you looked off to the side, your throat slowly going dry.
connie noticed and sighed. “they like siblings, don’t stress it.”
you nodded, “y-yeah of course, i just need some air or something.”
you used that as your cue to leave, eren’s eyes following your figure as you walked past him towards the back garden.
you were slightly embarrassed, choking up in front of three boys, two of them you barley knew. you sat on a chair in the corner, taking a shallow breath and texting pieck.
y/n : i think i’m ready to cut pie
pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : y ? e oksy?
you looked at her message and knew she was drunk, yet she still tried her best to check in on you.
y/n : yh dw abt me imma jus take an uber or smthin
pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : olay
pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : grt home sfe iky <3333
you sighed and turned your phone off, looking at the people in the garden. you heard giggling and saw reiner and annie trip over one another, clearly having a good time with themselves.
you turned your phone on and scrolled through your missed texts when you felt a person stood behind you. you looked up and saw eren’s green eyes looking at annie and reiner.
“what a prick,” eren sighed, looking down to meet your eyes.
“it’s cool. annie’s better than me by like tenfold so i’m not really shocked,” you responded, dropping your phone in your lap.
“don’t be fuckin’ dumb, reiner’s a blind asshole. he always has been,” he comforted you. “here.”
he handed you his lit joint and you took a hesitant hit, careful not to get lipgloss all over the paper.
eren watched you as you exhaled into the air, swallowing nothing. “you good?”
you nodded, “ ‘m good.”
you guys stayed like that for a while, exchanging useless comments and smoking. eren was glad that your mood had been lifted. at some point you had ended up back in the kitchen with your group of friends, high and definitely drunk.
pieck had everyone do body shots off of her stomach and made you dance round the counter like an idiot, something you were too drunk to question.
“where’d you go?” reiner’s voice said from behind you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.
you tensed uncomfortably, though reiner was far too gone to notice. you wriggled out of his grasp, turning around to look at him. “s-sorry, i ended up getting distracted by eren and connie.”
eren nodded at whatever words mikasa was saying, his eyes focusing on the way reiner was forcing a conversation after abandoning you to fuck around with annie.
“yaeger? what were you doing with that bastard ?” reiner said, ignoring the way you rubbed your arm rather nervously.
“n-nothing, we was jus’ talking and shi—”
“fuck that, don’t hang around with that kid,” reiner cut you off, staring at you rather annoyed.
“reiner, i’m sorry he just—”
“why shouldn’t she hang around with me ? i’d say i’m a pretty fun time,” eren said lazily, sitting on the counter beside you.
reiner glared at him, “don’t start your bullshit with me yaeger.”
“i’d say you’re starting problems with me braun, tellin’ pretty girls they should steer clear,” he responded.
eren looked unbothered whereas reiner had become rather agitated.
he ignored reiner, turning to you, “wanna go some where else ?”
you looked at reiner then at eren before nodding, following his lead and taking his hand as he lead you somewhere else.
“fuckin’ hell. rei just got his bitch stolen by yaeger,” porco muttered, reiner still heard it.
“you good princess?” eren mumbled, the sound of his door clicking shut.
“mhm, thank you,” you responded from his desk, untying your heels as he pushed himself up on his bed.
“for what?” he asked pointedly, his eyes locking with yours.
“the reiner thing—”
“anybody with working brain cells could see that you were uncomfortable, i was just helping out,” he dismissed, his hands resting behind his head.
you nodded, holding eye contact with him. the room went silent, the only sound being the tapping of your acrylics against the wood of his desk.
eren sighed, patting the cover of his bedsheets. “c’mere, you too far away.”
you let out a little laugh, hopping off his desk and standing in front of him. he grabbed you by your hands and pulled you on top of him, settling yourself on his hips. he was less than bother by the sudden added weight of your own body, his hands meeting the side of your thighs.
“you really are mad pretty,” he mumbled, squeezing the fat of your thighs that was closer to your ass.
you exhaled, turning your head to try and hide your smile. he grabbed your face and turned it back to him, his eyes hooded with lust.
you stared at him and your eyes dropped to his lips and unfortunately for you, he didn’t miss it. you took a deep breath and leaned forward, encasing eren’s lips in yours.
his hands instantly moved to your ass, squeezing roughly. he kissed you back hard, pushing his hips upwards.
your hands travelled to the back of his hair, your acrylics burying themselves in the nape of his neck. he sat up properly so he could flip you over, a shear display of his strength.
he bit at the bottom of your lip, taking advantage of the whine you let out to slip his tongue into your mouth. his hands wondered down the front of your top, though he pulled away, inspecting your face.
“why’d you stop ?” you mumbled, your eyes darting towards his swollen lips.
“nothin’, just checking to see if you’re actually sober. you alright with this though ?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, tugging at his hoodie.
he laughed. “you’re a desperate thing aren’t you.”
“eren, please,” you mumbled, pulling him forwards with more force.
“fuck. whatever you want princess,” he groaned, grabbing you by the neck and pulling you into a deeper kiss than before.
you moaned quietly as he untied the front of your shirt, revealing your lacy white bra.
“please tell me you weren’t wearing this for reiner,” he begged, rubbing on your tits.
you shook your head. “thank fuck for that.”
he pulled your skirt off, revealing your matching set, throwing the skirt somewhere in his room.
“fuck sake, y/n,” he muttered, eyes trailing the whole of your body.
you tugged at his zipper, “off, i want it off.”
he unzipped his hoodie with a chuckle, removing his shirt too, revealing his muscles. “makin’ demands now ?”
you rolled your eyes and pulled him back in for another heated kiss, your hands trailing down his body and palming his dick through his grey bottoms. he groaned, kissing you harder as you continued to stroke his growing hard-on through the material.
he pulled away and began kissing down your neck, leaving deep hickies as he went down, kissing all the way down your stomach till he got to the top of your lace thong.
he made eye contact with you as he placed a light kiss on your cover clit, watching as your mouth slightly dropped open. he pulled your panties down, stuffing them in his pocket whilst he rubbed on your clit with slow circles.
“you’re so fuckin’ wet for me right now angel. did you know that?” he asked, continuing with his agonisingly slow circles.
“mm fuck, eren, please—” you whined, your hands gripping his sheets.
“please what princess?” he teased, watching your body squirm under his touch.
you whined even louder. “fuck, i want more—” you cut yourself off with a shallow moan as he dipped his middle finger inside of you briefly before pulling it out.
“more what?” he teased.
you looked at him with round glossy eyes, “please eat me out.”
“that’s all you had to say princess,” he laughed, finally giving you what you wanted.
his tongue made contact with your clit and he licked eagerly, making his middle and ring finger stretch you out nicely.
“gotta make sure this pretty pussy is ready for my dick hm,” he mumbled on your clit, sucking on it roughly.
you babbled incoherent sentences, scratching as far as your hands could reach down his shoulders. your moans gradually increased in volume as his slender fingers worked your insides deliciously, finding that soft spot your own couldn’t reach with ease.
“f-fuck eren— feels so fuckin’ good,” you moaned gripping on his sheets harder.
just as you could feel your orgasm approaching, you could feel your phone vibrate beside you.
pieck was calling you, your thighs began to close but eren forced them back open. “answer it.”
“b-but—”
“i said answer it and be quiet.”
you looked at him before doing as he said, his fingers working harder than before.
“y/nnnn! where did you gooooo?” pieck shouted down the phone.
“i-i went with— mm-fuck, eren—” you struggled, pulling at eren’s hand.
“to do whatttt? you guys are missing the party” she yelled, giggling shortly after.
you struggled to hold back a moan as eren sucked more feverishly on your clit, “ ‘m s-sorry pie’, w-we’ll be — fuckfuck— we’ll be b-back soon.”
pieck stayed silent on the other side for a moment. “ohmygodyouanderenarefucking?!”
eren laughed, the vibrations on your clit causing you to let a loud whine slip past your mouth, one pieck definitely heard.
“OHMYGOD YOU ARE! GUYSGUYS EREN AND Y/N ARE—”
you hung up on her and threw your phone on the floor some where, focusing back on eren. “that is y-your fault.”
he pulled up and looked at you, the lower half of his face covered in your slick. “i told you to be quiet princess.”
you rolled your eyes as he continued finger fucking you, his tongue slipping to your hole every now and again.
a strange feeling built up in your stomach, making you push him away by his shoulders. “mm— eren wait, f-feels like ‘m gonna—”
his dick twitched at the thought of you squirting from him eating your pussy, so he pushed your hands away. “stop, let me finish.”
“no— eren—”
he grabbed your arms with his free hand and held them to your side, licking at your clit more needly as he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers. “i got you princess.”
you moaned loudly and the clear liquid drenched your thighs and his sheets, eren’s fingers still working you through your orgasm.
“f-fuck, eren— please—” you moaned desperately, tears sliding down the side of your face as you tried to squeeze your thighs shut.
“give me one more, i know you can y/n,” he mumbled, pulling your thighs open as his fingers working faster, grazing your soft spot every time.
you shook your head, feeling your second orgasm approaching harder than the first one.
“fuckfuckfuck, eren please—” you came around his fingers a second time, moaning loudly.
“there you fucking go,” eren smirked, feeling your cunt squeeze him. he slipped his fingers out and kissed your clit gently before coming back up to kiss you.
“you okay princess?” he asked quietly, looking you in your eyes.
you nodded lazily, fucked out from the two orgasms he gave you. “ ‘m good.”
“good cause i’m not done with you yet,” he exhaled, kissing you again.
he pulled his bottoms down, revealing his white calvin klein boxers that hugged his straining dick.
“this is your fault,” he said mimicking the words you said to him earlier.
you ignored him and palmed at his dick, feeling it twitch under the contact. you pulled his boxers down and let it free, continuing to rub it bare.
“fuckk—” he groaned, “shit, let me get a condom—”
“i’m clean,” you interjected, “and on birth control.”
eren looked slightly taken back. “are you sure ?”
you nodded desperately, “i need you please—”
“well shit. i’m clean too don’t worry,” he reassured you.
you nodded and continued rubbing his dick.
he moaned lowly before grabbing your face, “open.”
you opened your mouth and he stuck his fingers down your throat, the same ones that had been inside you.
he pulled them out and rubbed them on his dick, mixing your spit and his pre-cum.
next time i’ll have to get head, he thinks to himself before lining his dick up with your cunt. you moan loudly as the tip slowly pushed past your pillowy walls, hugging eren tightly.
“shit—” eren cussed as he felt your nails dig into his bicep, “you’re never fuckin’ getting rid of me princess.”
he bottomed out, making you whimper. he stilled, allowing you to adjust to his length. he watched your face for any signs of discomfort before slowly moving in and out of your cunt.
“fuck eren— you feel- so good—” you babbled incoherently, clawing deep marks down his back.
he nodded, lifting your leg to put it over his shoulder to get a better angle. he increased his speed, rubbing at your clit, making you squeeze his cock.
his hips stuttered. “stop doing that, gonna make me cum.”
“i want you to cum in me though,” you said, looking at him through your lashes.
eren scoffed and went deeper, thanks to the angle his tip kept assaulting your sweet spot.
you whimpered, “fuck eren— gonna cum—”
“no you’re not. hold it,” he grunted, gripping your hips and pulling you down to meet his base.
“eren,” you whined.
his pacing slowed down, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he neared his high.
“fuck— princess, i’m gonna cum—” he muttered into your ankle, nibbling slightly.
you squeezed around him at the sensations. he let out a deep moan, his cum painting the insides of your pussy white.
you came as you felt him empty inside of you, digging a crescent shape into his back.
“f-fuck,” you mumbled, watching him pull his dick out.
you whined at the empty feeling, though eren chose to ignore it. “imma be back.”
he picked his boxers up from the floor and pulled them on, walking to his bathroom. he walked out with a warm cloth, gently wiping the insides of your thigh.
“is your back okay? i noticed all the scratches and some were kinda bleeding…” you said sympathetically.
“don’t worry about me, i’ve had worse,” he smiled.
when he finished he put it on his desk and walked back over to you, kissing you gently.
“you good princess?”
you nodded dazed, causing eren to chuckle. he pulled you up and helped you get dressed, allowing you to fix your makeup and hair.
when you left his bedroom the party was still full swing, people dancing and drinking.
“ayeee ! there they are,” porco called out, clapping eren on the back when he sat next to him.
you were about to walk off to sit with pieck and sasha when eren grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap.
you looked at him confused when he muttered in your ear. “didn’t i tell you you’re never getting rid of me ?”
you were sure this time you were blushing, especially when he kissed the dark hickey on your neck.
“alright, we get it, you fucked, get a room,” sasha fake gagged, giggling after.
eren made eye contact with reiner. “she won’t be able to walk next time we get a room.”
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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months ago
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Thinking the unthinkable
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On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!
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Time and again, I find myself thinking about radium suppositories: specifically, I get to thinking about the day that the consensus shifted from "radium suppositories are great" to "stop putting radioisotopes up your ass."
The thing is, people really liked radium-based quack remedies. They drank radium-infused water, smeared radium cream on their faces and bodies, and yes, rammed radium suppositories up their assholes:
https://maximumfun.org/episodes/sawbones/radium-girls/
The fact that this made whatever ailed you sicker didn't deter the radium true believers: if you're getting sicker, then you must need more radium.
When I think about the debate over radium, I imagine that the people who understood that radium was really bad for you must have run up against critics who told them they were being unreasonable. "You can't tell people to stop using radium. Tell them to use suppositories with less radium. Tell them to use them less frequently. But you can't just tell people, 'stop putting radium up your asshole.' They won't take you seriously."
About 20 years ago, I started pitching various institutions that reviewed consumer tech policy on the idea that they should reject any product that had DRM. After all, DRM didn't just restrict how you used a gadget today, it provided a facility for nonconsensually, irreversibly field-updating that gadget to add new restrictions tomorrow. How could a reviewer in good conscience say, "Go ahead and buy this device if you need this feature," if they knew that at any time in the future, the gadget's maker could take that feature away and leave the buyer with no recourse?
Here's the warning I (half-seriously) suggested magazines run alongside such products:
WARNING: THIS DEVICE’S FEATURES ARE SUBJECT TO REVOCATION WITHOUT NOTICE, ACCORDING TO TERMS SET OUT IN SECRET NEGOTIATIONS. YOUR INVESTMENT IS CONTINGENT ON THE GOODWILL OF THE WORLD’S MOST PARANOID, TECHNOPHOBIC ENTERTAINMENT EXECS. THIS DEVICE AND DEVICES LIKE IT ARE TYPICALLY USED TO CHARGE YOU FOR THINGS YOU USED TO GET FOR FREE — BE SURE TO FACTOR IN THE PRICE OF BUYING ALL YOUR MEDIA OVER AND OVER AGAIN. AT NO TIME IN HISTORY HAS ANY ENTERTAINMENT COMPANY GOTTEN A SWEET DEAL LIKE THIS FROM THE ELECTRONICS PEOPLE, BUT THIS TIME THEY’RE GETTING A TOTAL WALK. HERE, PUT THIS IN YOUR MOUTH, IT’LL MUFFLE YOUR WHIMPERS.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/08/playstationed/#tyler-james-hill
No one took me up on my offer. Over and over again, magazine editors, managers of nonprofit review outlets, and indie gadget reviewers told me that it was unrealistic to publish a roundup of, say, this year's portable music players with the recommendation, "Just don't buy any of these. None of them are fit for purpose."
In other words: No one wanted to publish, "The correct amount of radium to stuff up your asshole is zero."
But the correct amount of rectal radium for you to administer is "none" and the correct car for you to buy today is none of the cars:
https://foundation.mozilla.org/en/privacynotincluded/articles/its-official-cars-are-the-worst-product-category-we-have-ever-reviewed-for-privacy/
This isn't the first time the correct automotive recommendation was "don't buy any of these cars." Back before seatbelts came standard in cars, the correct car was "don't buy a car." Sometimes, the correct answer is "none of the above." Even if that makes you sound unserious, the alternative is that you counsel people to put radium up their asses in a bid to seem "reasonable."
Today, DRM-infected products are routinely downgraded and bricked:
https://www.theverge.com/2024/9/5/24236237/ftc-software-tethering-letter-consumer-reports-ifixit
Even when companies face public uproar over these disastrous decisions and vow to reverse them, they can't, because these downgrades are one way:
https://www.stereocheck.com/news/music/unfortunately-you-cant-revert-to-the-old-sonos-app-anymore/
That's bad enough when it's your smart speakers, but what about when the company bricks your wheelchair:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/06/when-drm-comes-your-wheelchair
Or your $100,000 exoskeleton:
https://paulickreport.com/news/people/paralyzed-jockey-michael-straight-wants-to-keep-walking-but-manufacturer-wont-repair-exoskeleton
The reality is that we're living at the end of a catastrophic experiment in deregulation and its handmaidens, corruption and regulatory capture, and there are lots of "normal" things that we just need to stop doing. Not do less of them – just stop.
Like, the correct amount of collusion between realtors representing sellers and realtors representing buyers is zero:
https://www.latimes.com/business/real-estate/story/2024-03-19/realtor-rules-just-changed-dramatically-heres-what-buyers-and-sellers-can-expect
We got that one right, but there's plenty more that we're still engaged in this pathetic, denialist bargaining over. What's the correct degree to which White House officials should cycle back into working at the industries they oversaw? Zero. How many times should such a person come back to work at the White House? Again: zero:
https://prospect.org/power/2024-09-19-next-administration-can-stop-ethics-scandals/
When the Biden admin dropped its executive order on ethics just hours after the inauguration, they trumpeted that it "went further than any other towards slowing the revolving door and limiting conflicts of interest while in office":
https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2021/01/20/executive-order-ethics-commitments-by-executive-branch-personnel/
And it did. But it was also full of loopholes, because banning these conflicts of interest altogether was viewed as politically unserious, so the correct amount of radium up the administration's asshole was set at non-zero. The result? Well, it's about what you'd expect:
https://therevolvingdoorproject.org/what-the-hell-is-anita-dunn-even-allowed-to-work-on/
Congress hasn't updated consumer privacy law since 1988, when it took the bold step of…banning video-store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you took home. Since then, a coalition of commercial surveillance companies and the cops and spies who treat their data-lakes as massive, off-the-books anaerobic lagoons of warrantless surveillance data has prevented the passage of any new privacy protections for Americans.
The result? Stalkers, creeps, spies (both governmental and corporate), identity thieves, spearphishers and other villainous scum are running wild, endangering every American's financial, physical and political wellbeing. The correct amount of commercial data-brokerage for America is zero:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy
In other words, we should order every data-broker, every tech giant, every consumer electronics company and app vendor to delete all their surveillance data. All of it. The correct amount of radium in that asshole is – as with every other orifice zero:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve
From the perspective of the radium pitchmen, the most shocking thing about the past four years has been antitrust enforcers – like Lina Khan, Rohit Chopra, and Jonathan Kanter – who refused to bargain about how much radium we needed to stick up our butts. Fearless of being branded as "unserious" and "unreasonable," they seriously, reasonably said the right amount is none, actually.
None. Which is why they're so mad at Khan and co. Which is why they're so bent on getting Kamala Harris to fire Khan – despite the fact that this would burn precious political capital in the senate. Some people just love the feeling they get from a radium suppository – especially the suppository salesmen:
https://prospect.org/politics/2024-09-19-lina-khan-doesnt-need-to-be-confirmed-again/
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The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction/a>
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Image: Museum of the Health Sciences https://www.uab.edu/amhs/
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lulunothulu · 3 months ago
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“What’s wrong, dear?”
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake knows something’s wrong so he makes it his life’s mission to 1. Make it better and 2. Find out what’s wrong.
Content: 18+ ONLY, sad boi hours, soft Jake, FLUFF, cuddling turned into cock warming, p in v sex, unprotected sex.
Masterlist here 💗🤠
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Jake had a pretty normal day at work. Nothing compared to the week before, but still pretty okay.
He’d just parked in the driveway, sighing as he finally sees his home. Y’all’s home.
Texas flag hanging proudly on a hook out front, white picket fence closing intruders out of y’all’s space.
The house itself wasn’t anything special, just a bungalow by the beach. What made it special was you. The warmth and light you brought in with just a smile could’ve lit the whole house.
That’s why when he enters the house and finds nothing but darkness and silence, he knows something’s wrong.
Kicking off his boots at the entryway, Jake looks around the house for any signs of you.
Your purse is on the table by the door, keys along with it. Your shoes, required for any Naval Medic, lined by his own boots. Your uniform shirt was neatly thrown on the couch a little walks away from the front door, pants in tow.
You were never home before he was, only on rare occasions so that didn’t throw him off. What threw him off was in the distance, Jake heard soft sniffles coming from your room.
Carefully, Jake padded toward the room, worry increasing deep in his chest.
“Darlin’?” He drawled, pushing the door to y’all’s bedroom open.
Curled up on the bed you lay, soft sniffles filling Jake’s ears.
Instantly, Jake is by your side. To hell with showering, you were all he needed to focus on.
“Baby?” He soothes your head, brushing your hair back and away from your face. Your face was splotchy, eyes rimmed red and lips puffy from crying.
“What’s wrong, dear?” he asks, patiently waiting for your sweet voice to respond.
But you don’t.
You just lay there, staring beyond you, eyes emotionless.
Fear began to creep into Jake’s mind. He knew you’d seen some things on your last deployment, but you never spoke of it. He could only imagine you were having another PTSD episode. The last one being a few months ago.
Wrapping his strong arms around your form, Jake nuzzles his face into your neck. “Darlin’, you gotta tell me what’s bothering you…please?”
Again, nothing.
Jake’s mind begins to race, he hated seeing you so low. He had to do something to make you feel better, but before he could even do that he had to figure out what was going on.
“Baby, is this about your deployment?” He asks softly.
You shake your head, no.
Jake sits up, looking down at you again. Life creeps back into your eyes but you’re still staring off beyond you.
Okay, so it wasn’t whatever happened during your deployment.
“Is it work?” He asks.
You sigh before croaking, “No.”
The sound of your voice was like music to his ears. He breathed a sigh of relief at that, thinking of his next best thing to ask.
“Are you just having a bad day?”
When you nod and hum a ‘mhmm’, Jake almost rejoices. He’d finally gotten an answer. Now to cheer you up.
“Tell me what happened today,” he half orders, half asks. “C’mon, talk to me baby.”
You turn to face him, finally resting those beautiful eyes on his sage green ones.
Jake wipes a tear that falls from your eyes, patiently waiting for your response.
He watches as you take a shaky breath before you finally spill.
“It started this morning,” you recounted.
——— This morning ———
You were already running late.
Your alarm hasn’t woken you up and while Jake’s alarms—yes plural alarms—usually do the trick for you, you were so tired from the day before, you barley felt when he kissed you goodbye.
By the time you were dressed and out the door, you were running ten minutes late.
You sprint into the hospital where you worked, smiling as your supervisor, Captain Holt, raised a bushy brow at you.
“You’re ten minutes late,” he states.
“I know, sir,” you say at attention. “My alarms didn’t go off.”
“Hmm,” he hums, looking you up and down. “Since you’re never late, I’ll let you off with a warning. But do not let it happen again, Lieutenant Seresin.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” You reply, saluting when he dismisses you and walking to your station.
You sigh, realizing your forgot coffee this morning so you go to the break room to grab a cup before you settle back into your station.
However, after you made a cup, you’re bumped into on the way back to your station. Coffee spills down the front of your uniform shirt as you mentally scream.
“Watch where you’re going,” you yell at whoever just bumped into you.
You turn around to see a Petty Officer with wide eyes stare back at you.
“I’m so sorry, Lieutenant!” She cries, standing at attention and saluting you. “There’s a trauma coming in and Lieutenant Briggs said to grab some—”
“It’s fine, just don’t let it happen again,” you tell her. “Wait, a trauma so early in the morning?”
“Yes, one of the Aviators had an accident,” she tells you. “It’s sounds really bad.”
The only thing you can think of is Jake. Your mind was whirling, praying to whatever God that’ll listen, begging for it not to be Jake.
“Was it a male or female?” You ask.
“Wha—”
“Answer the question!” You order.
“A f-female,” she tells you.
Heart starting to slow, you nod. “Alright, go ahead, Petty Officer…” you glance down at her name tag. “Vincent.”
You go back into the break room after she scurries away, grabbing the backup shirt you keep for times like this and choke down a sob.
It could’ve been Jake. But it wasn’t.
You take the deep breaths your therapist showed you how to do to calm yourself and wipe away any lingering tears before making another coffee and finally making it to your station.
Hours later, it’s three hours before the end of your shift when you respond to another trauma. This time a male who no one can recognize. In the back of your mind, you can hear yourself say, “It’s Jake this time. It’s Jake.”
After a few rounds of CPR, the aviator is pronounced dead, sending you into a panic. When a nurse tells you the name of the aviator though, you have to excuse yourself.
It wasn’t Jake, but it could’ve been him. God knows he’s got a cockiness to his flying ability.
You’d told him multiple times he has to fly safer. Especially after what happened with his last back seater. Even more after that last mission when he saved Pete and Bradley, you’d almost broken down in thanks that he came back home.
You knew the risks in being married to an Aviator, but with the things you saw at work and again on your deployment almost two years ago…you couldn’t help but think negatively every time a trauma came in.
“Seresin?” You hear your colleague, Lieutenant Casey, say. Her voice traveling to your ears in the quiet locker room.
You sniffle, wiping your eyes dry with the back of your palm. “Hey, sorry. I just needed some time to catch my breath.”
You look up at her from where you sit, knees to your chest.
“Hey, I talked to the Captain,” she starts, voice soft and soothing. “He said you can go home early. I’ll cover your patients.”
“Are you sure?” You ask feeling the tears threaten to reappear.
“Of course,” she tells you. She had lost her wife, an aviator, years ago and knew what it was like to worry. “You go home, meet your husband when he gets back.”
You thank her, hugging her tightly before grabbing your things and going home.
——— Now ———
“So I came home, and out your clothes on,” you tell Jake. “I wanted to be close to you.”
Jake’s heart ached for you. He couldn’t imagine what you were feeling and he mentally kicked himself in the balls for ever making you worry.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he tells you, smoothing your hair back. “I have been flying a bit more carefully now so you don’t worry so much.”
You smile up at him and he can feel the worry he once felt disappear in the instant your lips formed the smile.
“Good,” you hiccup.
“Is there anything I can do to do?” Jake asks, willing to do anything and everything to make things better for you today.
You scrunch you nose and sniff. “You can go shower before you stink up the bed and then come cuddle me.”
Jake laughs at that, kissing your forehead before whispering, “I’ll be right back.”
Jake showers, scrubbing the jet fuel and grime from the day off his body and sighing. He was glad you tips him what happened and why you were so upset. He couldn’t wait to get out of the shower to hold you in his arms.
While he couldn’t wait, he made sure to scrub himself clean twice…just in case.
Walking back into y’all’s room, Jake smiles when he sees you’ve taken off the sweats you were wearing—now only in his shirt and your underwear— and eyeing him with hungry eyes.
He quickly grabs a pair of boxer briefs, not bothering with a shirt before climbing into bed. He takes you into his arms, letting your leg fall onto his legs and wrap around one. You place a hand on his lightly hairy chest and sigh.
“What is it, Darlin’?” He asks.
“You’re not close enough,” you tell him.
Jake chuckles, as you nuzzle your face into his neck, feeling you breathe him in.
“What do you suppose you need?” he asks, knowing where this might lead.
“Can I lay on top of you?” You ask.
“You don’t even need to ask.” Jake pulls you onto him, your body warm and legs opening to straddle him.
Your head is on his chest, belly right on top of his semi hard-on. He places his hands on the small of your back, lightly rubbing circles with the tip of his fingers. Almost as he predicted, you scoot higher, face now in his hair by his ear—and you begin nibbling on his lobe.
He groans into your hair, sniffling the sweet scent of your shampoo and hands trailing down to your ass, squeezing softly. When he feels the warmness of your ever growing wet cunt, Jake has to remind himself that he’s meant to be making you feel better.
Sex shouldn’t be on his mind…but then you grind on him.
“Darlin’,” he starts, licking his lips. “What do you need? Use your words.”
You pull away from his ear, looking down at him with those sultry eyes you only use when you’re wanting to get your way.
“I want you inside me,” you tell him.
Jake’s heart—and dick—was pulsing. It’s taking everything in him not to just take you right then and there. But he was a gentleman—for the most part—and he needed to wait for further instructions.
“Anything you want, my love,” he replies.
“But…” And there was the catch. “I only want to warm your cock.”
Jake swallows, it’s been a while since you cock-warmed him. That turned into hardcore sex, but that was another day.
This was now, and you were in need of intimacy. There would be no fucking tonight.
At least, that’s what he told himself to keep calm.
Jake nods at you, watching as you crawl off him and remove the soft fabric from your hips so slowly, he thought you were moving in slow motion.
But no.
You were doing it on purpose. The little smirk on your face said it all.
Jake stripped the boxers off his body, his cock flinging from his enclosure and beckoning you closer.
Painfully, you slowly climb back onto the bed, Jake’s shirt still on and nipples pebbled. You straddle Jake’s hips, your warm cunt flush with his extremely hard erection, and lean down to kiss him for the first time since he got home.
The kiss is soft but passionate on its own—barely a whisper of a peck.
Jake is fighting for his life. It’s taking everything in him not to line himself to your entrance and pull you down onto him.
You’re being a good husband right now. Calm down.
Jake watches as you pull away, one hand on his chest the other grabbing his cock and guiding the tip into your pussy.
He groans when the tip of him is finally inside you, vowing not to move until—and if—you wanted him to.
You, in turn, look down at him. Pride and love radiating from those beautiful eyes of yours as you take the rest of his cock, sighing at the way he fills you up completely.
You lay back down on Jake’s chest, him wrapping his arms you again and tracing down your back to your plump ass.
He feels you clench around him and sucks in a breath.
“Are you okay, baby?” You ask, blinking up at him with innocent eyes.
“Mhmm,” Jake mutters. “Never better.”
Jake feels you smile into his chest as you kiss his collarbone and neck.
“What?” You tease. “Did I do something?”
You knew exactly what it was doing to him and he was loving it…for the most part.
Jake looks down at you, finding you already smiling up at him from behind your lashes as you place a kiss on his chest.
Jake’s body was burning, no, itching to move. He willed his hips to buck into you, to free him from your torment.
But he wouldn’t. Not until you gave him the okay.
“Did I,” you start, clenching around him again. “Do something?”
Jake groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head and bottom lip between his teeth.
“You know,” he starts, stopping to suck in another breath and groan when you clench again. “Exactly what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”
You smile up at him and he swears he can see pure mischief behind them.
This is what he got for marrying a woman who matched his freak.
You sit up, fully taking him again. He watches as you remove his shirt and toss it to the side of the bed, eyes solely on him.
You lean in, pulling Jake about halfway out, before kissing him.
Your lips were like heaven to him, sweet and pillow soft against his thin ones. Your bare chest pressed against his own, warming him up more than he already was.
When you begin to move your hips, Jake’s eyes to the back of head, soft moans escaping his lips and crashing into yours.
You smile, working your magic and hips you slowly allow him to enter and exit you.
“Does my cunt feel nice?” You ask against his lips and Jake nearly chokes.
“Fuck yes baby,” he responds, squeezing your ass.
You moan as his touch and buck your hips a bit faster, pure fire and pleasure erupting into Jake’s stomach.
“How much do you love me?” you ask him.
Good God, you were going to kill him with that sweet voice of yours.
“I love you so much,” Jake replies, squeezing your ass even harder.
“Good,” you smile. “Do you want to move?”
Jake only nods, eyes wide and on yours. He watches as you smile, slowing your pace and leaning in so close, he can feel your breath on his ear.
“Do you want permission to move, Aviator?”
God, yes. Jake nods.
You click your tongue, pulling him out completely. Jake whines, pushing down on your ass to press you on him again. But you keep away, his dick tickling your belly.
“Use your words,” you command.
Jake swallows, eyes squeezing before locking on yours again. Pure burning desire leaks out of them and he watches as you squirm under his dark gaze.
“Please let me fuck you,” he says, deep and loud, just how he knows you like it.
The look on your face tells him you’re about to sink back into him when you bite your bottom lip and smirk, nodding fiercely.
Jake moves to action, flipping you on your back and lining himself back up to your still soaking cunt. He smiles down at you, pushing only the tip into your tight entrance and watching your eyes widen in pleasure.
“Now it’s my turn,” he says darkly.
You smile up and him and Jake nearly combusts at the way your lashes flutter.
“Tell me how deep you want me,” he orders.
“All the way in baby,” you tell him.
“How deep is that?” He smirks.
You’re about to answer when he fills you completely, stretching you until his whole cock rests inside you. Your mouth opens, an O forming on your pretty lips.
“Good girl,” Jake starts, pumping into you slowly then faster when he feels you relax around him. “Taking my cock like such a good wife.”
Your moans fill the room, causing Jake to buck into you, tip to base. He knows he’s hitting the right spot when your eyes squeeze shut and you begin whispering his name.
“Keep those pretty eyes on me,” he orders, watching as your eyes fly open. “And say my name louder, scream it if you must.”
“Fuck,” you mutter.
“I don’t think that’s my name, Sweetheart.” Jake chuckles.
“Fuck Jake!” You moan.
“There it is. You sound so fucking pretty when you moan my name.”
As if on cue, you moan his name again, practically babbling and repeating it over and over again.
“Jake, Jake, Jake!” You moan, tits bouncing at the jolting Jake was putting them through.
“Are you close, my sweets?” He asks, rubbing his thumb against your clit and feeling your clench around him.
“I’m so fucking close,” you scream. “I’m gonna come!”
“No,” he orders. “You wait for me. Be a good girl and wait for me.”
You’re a mess beneath him, nails scraping his chest and legs, eyes wild and pleading to come.
He wouldn’t let you, not until he felt—
Jake’s vision began to blur, he was tasting stars at this point and he knew he was just about ready to burst.
“Now, baby! Come with me babygirl!” He orders.
With your eyes still on his, Jake feels you begin to spasm and orgasm, his coming along side yours.
You both ride the waves of your orgasm, breathing heavily and chests pounding.
Jake bucks his hips, spilling himself inside you before slowly stopping, forehead touching yours.
Kissing you deeply, he slowly pulls out of you hearing you groan against his lips.
He quickly pulls away, grabbing a washcloth before helping you clean yourself up and carrying you to the shower.
Jake washes you, carefully massaging your swollen cunt before rinsing you and washing himself quickly.
He wraps you in a towel, pay drying you the way you’d taught him years ago, and then drying himself as you watch from the counter.
Once he was dry, he dressed you in his favorite Texas Longhorns shirt and underwear before getting himself dressed and quickly changing the sheets.
He lays you in bed before climbing in himself, arms wrapping around your body again.
“Jake,” you whisper.
“Yes, my love?”
“I love you so much,” you tell him. “Thank you for making my day better.”
Jake smiles into your neck, kissing you lightly before responding, “I love you too, Y/N. And I’ll always be here to make your day better.”
He falls asleep to the sounds of your breathing and soft hums of delight and contentment.
Mission accomplished.
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artificial-transmutations · 4 months ago
Text
The Last Chance!
My head was throbbing, and lights danced in front of me. Distorted music was blaring and for a moment, I felt like throwing up. When my sight cleared a bit, I could see a slim metal lectern in front of me and grabbed it to stabilize myself. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, the nausea subsided enough to look around. I was not alone, far from it. I was bathed in bright lights from above and from the sides, and I had to squint to be able to discern my surroundings. There were three more lecterns, arranged in a half circle, and behind that, three more people who didn't look any better than I felt.
In the middle of the circle, there was a big leather chair that was currently empty. Still, most of the lights - artificial lights, headlights - were directed at the empty chair. To all sides, behind the big island of brightness, I could see grandstands with people in the dark, producing a constant loud chattering noise. The room was huge, but had, apparently, no windows.
Even though I've never been in one, it looked a lot like a TV studio to me. The setup looked like a game show of sorts, which means the empty chair was for the host, and I was at one of the contestant's spots.
Which brought me back to the most pressing question: How the hell did I get here?
Let's see, what do I remember... I am Evan, kindergarten teacher, 32 years old, and...
Right. I wasn't very well right now. My boyfriend broke up with me, it was pretty ugly, and then, I went to a bar. I was pretty drunk, but I think I remember leaving the bar again, in the middle of the night and then...
No, total blackout. Nothing that could explain how I got into a TV studio.
I looked at the other contestants, who seemed to be in various states of confusion as well. At the front of the lecterns, I could read their names:
Right next to me, there was Victoria. She looked like a librarian, or a secretary of some sorts. Pretty unremarkable. She seemed perhaps the least uncomfortable and eyed the rest of us with sharp intelligent eyes, nodding slightly as she caught my gaze.
Then, there was Lucas. He looked like he worked as a security guard, or maybe a bouncer, but not one for an exclusive club. His face was broad and his jaw strong and adorned with a goatee, and he wore a tight t-shirt and loose cargo pants. His posture was intimidating, but his eyes were friendly, if perhaps a bit simple.
At the far end, behind the lectern was Blake. He looked a bit like a teacher or a scientist, to be honest. He was slim and tall, had a brown pony tail and wore pretty unfashionable clothes.
For the sake of completion, my own name read "Evan", as expected. I was a pretty normal guy, wearing jeans and t-shirt. I was quite average looking, neither very good nor very bad, and had a bit of a tummy. In short, a very typical guy.
When I looked up again, there was suddenly a man sitting in the chair, wearing a fancy suit, looking into the cameras with a wide smile. I was sure I had not seen him entering, which seemed strange.
Immediately, the chattering from the audience ceased, and the man, who must have been the host, began to speak. So much for trying to escape the situation before the show started.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, and all creatures! Welcome to this wonderful, bombastic, extraordinary episode of 'The last chance'! I'm your host, the magnificent Mr. Mephistolon."
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There was a moment of applause and cheering from the dark grandstands, before the man continued. What an odd introduction! Being inclusive is good and all, but 'all creatures'?
"And today, we have our best contestants ever. Give me a cheer for Blake, Lucas, Victoria and Evan!"
Again, there was some applause, which was nice, but I was still confused. What kind of game show was this?
"The rules are simple! Here at 'The last chance', everything is possible. In three exciting elimination rounds, our contestants will fight for the grand mystery prize. You, the audience will vote after each round who you like the least, and the one with the most votes has to leave, never to be seen again."
I decided I didn't like the humor of the host very much, but the explanation continued.
"Whoever survives the third round is the winner of tonight's show! They will receive the grand mystery prize"
He held up a sealed red envelope.
"And, of course, gets to go home."
It would probably have been funnier if I remembered how I got here. The charming host made it sound like we were kidnapped, but that was hardly possible, not on live TV. So, it was probably just a joke.
"But! How can you sway the audience to not vote you out, you ask? What is the game, you want to know? It's easy! In each round, each and every one of you gets a spin on our wheel of fortune. In addition, you will be dealt three cards. In every round, you must use whatever the wheel shows and one of your cards to *change* yourself and one other contestant of your choice. It doesn't matter who you choose for what, as long as one change applies to yourself and one to another one. And remember: All changes are always permanent!"
The host chuckled as if his last statement was especially funny. I didn't quite understand what 'changes' he meant, but the rest was pretty clear.
As soon as the host finished explaining, a gorgeous woman with a long flowing dress and a big deck of cards approached us. Her eyes sparkled, and her skin was smooth, and the long dress made it look like she had a tail under it. She gave every one of us contestants three cards. Mine read "Masculine", with a big blue mars symbol on it, "Submissive", depicting a figure looking down at their feet, and "Chubby", a pink pudgy figure.
After we had a moment to look at our cards, the host spoke up again.
"And without further ado, let's get started! This round begins with..."
The drum rolls in the background sounded very stereotypical.
"Victoria! Ladies first!"
With a fanfare, a big wheel of fortune was unveiled, and set into motion with one swift motion from Mr. Mephistolon. I couldn't make out what the labels on the wheel said until it slowed down and landed on the symbol of a large eggplant. It read "hung".
It had to be one of these late-night game shows with a sexual edge to it. I didn't feel very comfortable.
"Alright, Victoria! The wheel shows 'hung'. You need to choose one of your cards, and then apply both changes, one to you, and one to another contestant!"
The woman studied her cards carefully before choosing one. She held it up and smiled.
"Okay. I pick this card here for myself. It says: 'Big-Chested'. And I'll apply 'hung' to..."
She looked around her three male contestants before finally settling on me. "Evan!"
"Alright, a good choice, Victoria! Remember, the changes will apply after everyone has chosen. Let's continue with Lucas!"
The wheel spun and landed on the picture of a pink, hairless arm, which said "Smooth".
Lucas had looked into his cards up until here and scratched his head.
"Okay, so we're supposed to be nice to each other, right? Okay, so, I... Can I give both to the other guys?"
"I'm sorry Lucas, but the rules are that you have to change yourself as well!" The host smiled with endless professional patience.
"Oh, okay." The guy really wasn't all too bright.
"Then... I take 'smooth' for myself and give Victoria my 'Slim'. That works, right?"
"Yes, Lucas, that's possible! Great job!" The host cheered before looking at Blake and spinning the wheel. It finally settled on "Nerdy", adorned with a pair of glasses.
Blake's eyes darted between his cards and the rest of us. Finally, he decided.
"Okay, I don't think we're supposed to be nice to each other, here. At least, I only have rather negative cards. Since I have to play one on myself, I choose 'Dominant'". He held up a card showing a figure with held up high head and a broad stance.
"And the 'nerdy' from the wheel goes to... Lucas."
The audience murmured and the host nodded approvingly.
"It seems like you have understood pretty quickly! Alright! Let's get to our last one for this round. Evan!"
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He set the wheel in motion, and I watched until it stopped at the picture of a broad chest, reading 'muscular'. I looked down on my cards. So, even if I didn't understand the whole 'change' part, it was obvious I should give positive things to myself and negative things to other people. The wheel showed 'muscular', which was obviously positive, and 'masculine' in my hand was positive as well. So, I needed to choose between 'submissive' and 'chubby'. The thought of the big bouncer having the 'submissive' card was pretty hilarious, so I decided on that.
"I'll take 'muscular' for myself and give my 'submissive' to Lucas." I announce.
"Great choices, all around. Alright. So, we get to the changes! Victoria, you got 'Big-Chested' from yourself, and 'slim' from Lucas. Let's see how you look like!"
Whatever I expected, it was not that. Before my very eyes, Victoria's modest breasts swelled until her blouse was bursting. Her body lost any excess fat, and her hips became narrower as well, forming a perfect hourglass shape. If I had been straight, I would have surely started to drool.
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"Very nice! Now, let's see the guys. Lucas! You have your own 'smooth', and Blake's 'nerdy' as well as Evan's 'submissive'. Quite a lot, if you ask me!"
As expected, Lucas lost all body hair, except his head and face. Then, his eyebrows thinned out and his nose grew a bit more pronounced. I thought I heard the word 'sissy' being called from the audience. A thick pair of glasses snapped into existence, and his clothing shifted to an awkward, nerdy look. And something seemed to happen behind his eyes. Where before, he looked the host in the eye, he suddenly looked at his shoes.
"I'm sorry, master." He muttered.
"What was that, Lucas?" The host asked, smiling.
"I'm sorry, Master. I don't deserve to look into your eyes." Laughter from the audience.
Lucas was still pretty broad, but his new posture and clothing veiled that pretty well. He looked pathetic all in all.
"Alright, Lucas. Let's switch to Blake. Here, we have your own 'Dominant' and... That’s it! Your antagonists decided to go easy on you, as it seems."
The shift in Blake's demeanor was subtle. His body stayed the same, but his posture changed, as he spread his legs a bit wider and raised his shoulders. His facial expression shifted, and I was sure to see traces of cruelty or arrogance in it, now.
"Aaand, finally. Evan. 'Muscular' from yourself and 'hung' from Victoria. Seems like the other contestants like you, Evan!"
Victoria, the new, busty, Victoria leaned over and smiled as she whispered: "You're welcome."
Suddenly, my body felt tingly and weird all over. I watched in a mix of amazement and horror, as my muscles grew all over the place, quickly filling out my clothes that shifted subtly to make way for the new bulges.
The crowd cheered, and I looked at them for a moment. Then, I was distracted by a feeling in my groin. It took all my self-control not to check with my hands, but I could clearly see the bulge of my cock grow in my pants. I wasn't getting hard - although the feeling was pretty erotic - but my dick was just quickly gaining size, until the bulge was clearly visible through my pants now. I could even see the soft rod hanging down one leg and make out the shape of my balls. With my head red, I stepped closer to the lectern.
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"That's all changes for round 1!" The host announced. "And it's time to say goodbye to one of our contestants now. Please, cast your vote."
While the audience voted, I looked around. Busty Victoria was probably pretty safe, as was I - I didn't have a mirror, but I must have looked pretty good. If the audience voted by looks - which I suspected - then it would either hit Blake or Lucas. Since Blake had changed the least, he was probably the most boring one, so I suspected he would be voted out.
It was Lucas, by a small margin.
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"Well, then, Lucas! Here goes your 'Last Chance'!" The host smiled, a smile I would describe as cruel, and all of a sudden, a flame shot up where Lucas had been standing just a few moments ago. When the flame was gone, so was Lucas. Wow. That was either a pretty cool special effect or... No, it was a special effect.
As the host turned to Victoria again, I got the feeling this game show was more serious than I thought.
The wheel stopped at the word 'needy'. Victoria looked into her cards and whispered to me: "Let's work together this round."
Since the spot next to her was empty, I was the only one she could whisper to, even though I must have been the bigger threat in her eyes. Her plan was to concentrate on Blake this round and then eliminate me in the next.
"I give 'Needy' to Blake, and I'll take..." She flashed a smile to the audience. "'Big Behind'" The card showed the rather unsubtle outline of a large ass. Victoria was *dangerous*. She had adapted lightning fast and knew how to manipulate the audience.
Blake looked at her with contempt, possibly due to his new dominant demeanor, until the wheel stopped in front of him. It showed a naked male chest, heavily adorned with tattoos.
"Oookay. I take 'Tattooed' from the wheel for myself, and I play this card on Evan."
My heart sunk as he produced a card showing a naked figure that read 'Exhibitionistic'. Crap. The smile in Blake's face was cold. He, too, was dangerous. And from his announcement in the first round, I knew he had more negative cards in his hand.
"So, Evan, take your pick."
I hadn't even realized that the wheel had already stopped, and I looked at it quickly. It showed a pelt of hair on a breast and read 'hairy'. I quickly looked down on my cards. I had 'masculine' and 'chubby'. It was probably a good idea to keep chubby for the last round, so I had to play 'masculine'. The apparent solution was to play it on myself and give 'hairy' to Blake, if I wanted to do what Victoria suggested. However, hairy probably wouldn't hurt Blake much, and neither would 'masculine'. I could sacrifice my 'chubby', but then I'd probably lose the next round for sure. I pondered. No, Victoria was more dangerous. I could play 'hairy' on her... But wait! She was slim and busty, and she was about to give herself a big ass. Combined with hairy, that would be strange, but what if I took out her feminine advantage?
"I take 'hairy' for myself." I began. It didn't make much difference if I was hairy or not. "And I play 'masculine' on Victoria."
The audience went crazy as Victoria's transformation began. Her ass ballooned out, making her even more beautiful by heterosexual standards for a second. But that changed when her body shifted and crossed the gender boundary quickly. A bulge formed both in her throat and in her groin, and her clothes shifted to a masculine style. However, just as I had planned, she still had the other traits. Her - no, his - chest formed decidedly male but rather big man-tits, and his ass was fat. The rest of him, however, including the arms and legs, were thin and slim, looking decidedly grotesque on his male frame.
"I guess we should call you 'Victor' now" smiled the host before the attention shifted towards Blake.
"Let's see how Blake looks after his new changes: 'Tattooed' and 'Needy'".
Blake's skin quickly filled with ink, giving the man an even more dangerous aura. For a moment, I was afraid that Blake would get a stronger position due to his changes, but then, a loud moan came out of his mouth.
"Please! I need someone to..." he was confused as hell, I could see that, as his dominant and his needy side came to a weird compromise.
"... to order to fuck my hole. Please!"
The audience erupted in laughter, and even the host had to smile. It was pitiful.
"And now for Evan."
Crap, what were my changes again? I had completely forgotten that I was being changed as well.
"Let's give you... 'hairy' and 'exhibitionistic'!"
Fuck, and it was all negative. I looked down on my muscular body and I could see body hair growing in, all over my exposed arms and legs, even some in my face. However, the worst was yet to come.
My mind was filled with an overwhelming need. I *had* to show off my body. I *had* to put it on display for everyone to see. Accompanied by the laughter of the audience, I pulled off my shirt and exposed my furry, muscular chest for everyone to see. It felt good, but I wasn't finished. Next, the shoes, socks and pants came off. My underwear was filled to the brim with my large cock, and a thick bush of hair erupted from it as well. And my underwear got even tighter as I felt the rush of satisfaction it gave me to expose myself like that. I could stop now, I probably had enough self-control. However, I hesitated. It was all about the audience vote, right? Perhaps I had better chances if I played the role, to the end. So, I hooked both my thumbs into my strained boxer shorts and, with a quick motion, pulled them off, freeing the absolute python of my semi-hard cock. I even took a few steps back from my lectern, so everyone could see me in all of my hairy, muscular glory.
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The audience went wild. With some satisfaction, I noticed that almost no one voted me out. Instead, most of the votes fell on Blake.
"So long, Blake!" said the host, and Blake, too, disappeared in a sudden flame.
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"Seems like it's just Victor and Evan left. Let's see who survives this round and takes the grand mystery prize home! Let me spin the wheel for Victor!"
The wheel slowed down on the sweaty face emoticon. However, it didn't read 'sweaty', but instead 'horny'. Victor smiled and shot me an apologetic look.
"Sorry, big guy, but that's it for you. Let's see how needy you get. I choose 'horny' for Evan and for me... 'Charming'". The new man produced his last card, which showed a handsome prince. Crap. That was a good combination.
I looked down at my 'chubby' card, and only as the wheel stopped, I realized my mistake. I had kept the strongest negative card until the end, but I didn't anticipate that the wheel might *also* show something negative. I stared at the head-scratching figure on the wheel and the word below that. 'Dumb'. Shit.
What were my options? I could give myself chubby and Victor dumb. Perhaps, hopefully, chubby wouldn't look too bad on my muscled body, but it hardly mattered if Victor was dumb or not. Charme worked regardless of intelligence.
Then again, I could give Victor 'chubby', which would probably work well in making him even less attractive and grotesque. But that would mean I'd have to take 'dumb'. And all changes were permanent, the host had said so.
I thought back to the flame effect that had consumed Blake and Lucas. No, I had to win this, no matter the cost.
I forced a smile for the audience. "Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'm big all over already, and hairy and naked. So, I'll gladly take the 'dumb' - make me a real himbo!"
I didn't want to be 'a real himbo', for sure, but it might still be better than the alternative. And it would fit into the 'horny' I was about to get.
"And Victor gets my last card: 'Chubby'!"
His eyes went wide, as he suddenly wasn't so sure of his victory anymore. And really, he immediately began to change. His thin body got softer and rounder, especially his stomach and butt. Even his man-tits grew even larger. However, at the same time, his face grew a well-groomed beard, and his eyes got a sparkle to it. Even though his form was bloated, he still looked nice enough. Fuck.
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Then, all eyes went to me. I closed my eyes as Mr. Mephistolon announced my changes. 'Dumb' and 'Horny'. No bodily changes, thankfully. My body was still glorious and on full display. The first effect I felt was in my groin again. I grew hot and flustered, and my previously semi-hard cock quickly expanded into its full length, hard and throbbing, pointing directly ahead. That wasn't bad, I had to admit. As I was leaking precum on the floor, I enjoyed the attention of my body on display like that, and there was certainly a lot to see. But the next change hit my mind. My thoughts felt sluggish and slow. It was as if the gears in my head were covered in syrup or mud. Or that other thing, what was it... Cum, right. I had to grin dumbly. Yeah, my thoughts were slow as if they went through cum. That thought amused me and distracted me for longer than I would have been comfortable to admit before. But now, I just didn't care. When I opened my eyes again, all higher intellect was gone, and I was just happy for all the attention and was feeling horny. Well, I was always feeling horny, right? Automatically, my large right hand gripped my fuckstick and I started to slowly stroke it, while smearing precum into the pelt on my chest with the left one. The audience cheered.
"Alright, here are the final votes!", the host announced, ripping my attention momentarily from my own body.
"It seems like, with a *very* narrow margin, Victor has lost this round."
I looked at him quizzically. Was that good?
"That means Evan wins tonight's show!"
The audience went wild and clapped, and I felt happy. Apparently, I had done something right!
"Congratulations, Evan! Now, let's see what tonight's grand mystery prize is."
With a big gesture, the host opened the envelope and read out the contents.
"The winner - that's you, Evan - gets to transform the host freely, to his liking. Now that's something we haven't seen in this show for a long time!"
Even though that meant I was allowed to change him to my whim, Mr. Mephistolon didn't seem unhappy. Instead, he licked his lips.
"Go on then, Evan! What do you want to change about me?"
"Uhhh..."
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I thought hard about it.
"Make you... Make you big. Big and... strong. But not as strong as me. More like lean, but sturdy. I still want to be the one to fuck you. And... uh, make you... Make you have big dick and big balls."
I was a bit confused about the last two points. My mind had trouble thinking, but I also had a big dick and big balls, and those were good, right? So, I wanted them for him, too.
"Alright, let's see what Evan gets."
I watched curiously as Mr. Mephistolon slowly began to change.
He gained muscles, but nothing like I had. He stayed rather thin, but his arms, chest and abs looked very nice. His feet grew, and lean muscle set in, making him able to withstand a lot of force when I would pound his hole, later. I could hardly wait and was stroking my cock again.
As expected, his cock and balls swelled, and grew hairy. He was not as hung as me, but that was probably good. After all, he wouldn't really need his cock, his ass was the important part.
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After his transformation was finished, I saw him look at his new body and his cock, and then into the crowd, before his eyes landed on me.
"Well then, that's all for tonight, folks! I guess I'm going home with Evan now!"
And with the last round of applause, our surroundings shifted until I was in my apartment again. Still the same bull of a man, with my target right in front of me. I licked my lips as I approached the host. I would fuck him silly, that's for sure.
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