#i really fucking hate that nobody addresses this.

[benbamboozled]

The thing is that DC’s consistent choice to have Jason Todd blame himself for his own murder comes across less as maturity (the intent) and more like his self-esteem is so far down the toilet it’s been filtered through the Gotham water treatment facility and is currently being sprayed over Wayne Manor’s lawn.

#jason todd #robin #red hood #i really fucking hate that nobody addresses this. #like it would be a nice bit of characterization IF THE INTENT WERENT FOR US TO AGREE WITH HIM.

[hysteria-things]

TOUR (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x reader (definition of a titty man)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you surprise your boyfriend at his last show of the versus tour. you obviously had to wear the dress to it, but too bad matt has to wait until the show is over to do what he’s been wanting to do for a month.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluffy, swearing, titty fucking, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,245

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: you guys are the literal best omg.

idk how i feel about this one but i do have a shit ton in the works that i can’t wait to share😇

the flight from LA to ft. lauderdale was close to five hours, and you were jet lagged.

especially since you had to take a late flight which didn’t help either.

now, you’re sitting in the uber that picked you up from the airport and texting nick.

it was his idea to have you fly out and surprise matt since everybody else is going to be there. chris knows too, and since he’s a blabber mouth at best, you specifically told him if he tells matt your secret you’ll cut his dick off.

by some miracle, nick and chris successfully snuck you to your room.

you didn’t bother unpacking your suitcase. instead, you kicked off your shoes and knocked out with your clothes still on.

it took a few knocks at the door to realize you weren’t dreaming them to fully wake you up. you groan, rubbing your eyes and shuffling to the door. “y/n! wakey, wakey.”

you open it, revealing a smiling nick with a brown bag in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. he holds them up in front of you.

“i got you food and your favorite iced coffee from dunkin’.” he says. “i can’t stay long because we’re heading to the venue soon, and you have to get fueled up. i know how jet lag can be.”

“thank you, nick,” you reply graciously, grabbing the things from his hands.

“i’ll send you the address and all that.” he tells you, turning 180° before spinning back to face you again. “also, you better have brought something stunning to wear. matt might actually faint from all the surprises you’ll be throwing at him all at once.”

he winks at you before going into the elevator to meet the others.

of course, you brought something stunning to wear. looking in the mirror, you’re wearing a navy blue dress. it’s the navy blue dress you were wearing in the photos matt jerked off to when you guys were on the phone.

you walk into the hidden door that leads backstage. the boys were there plus nate and justin. nobody noticed you yet, and you wanted to keep it that way.

you heard matt talking to nate about how he’ll be his teammate, but the conversation mostly consisted of nate giving a lecture about how to not fuck up jenga.

you cross your arms and lean against the doorway. “maybe if you didn’t yank the jenga blocks out, the tower would stay up.”

their voices die down in milliseconds and turn to face you.

“what the fuck?” matt questions blankly. it seems like he’s trying to comprehend if he’s hallucinating or if you’re really here in ft. lauderdale standing in front of him.

when it clicks in his head that you’re indeed not a hallucination, he comes running over to you and engulfs you in a big hug.

he lifts you from the floor and holds on even tighter, not caring about the other people in the room.

to him, this moment is just about you.

“you’re not being slick, you know.” he whispers in your ear.

“what do you mean?” you reply in the same tone innocently, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.

he doesn’t respond and puts you back on the ground. he glances up and down your body, before chris speaks up. “hate to break up this reunion, but we got small talk in like five minutes.”

matt has you underneath him flat on your back, the tour bus bunk is a little too small for the both of you.

your legs are wrapped around his torso as his lips hungrily kiss yours. the show ended an hour or two ago, and when everybody got settled into their hotel rooms, he snuck you on the tour bus.

his hands rub around your boobs and give a light squeeze, pulling his lips away from yours with a hum.

“remember when i said i wanted to fuck your tits?” he asks with his swollen red lips, not taking his eyes off of you as he starts to unbuckle his belt.

you lick your lips and nod.

“i wasn’t kidding.”

he yanks down his undergarments and pumps himself a few times to get fully hard. he takes the neckline of your dress and pulls it down to expose your breasts.

he groans at the site, fiddling them before adjusting himself so his tip is right under your boobs.

he pushes them together and slides in between them, throwing his head back and moaning. “oh, fuck.”

unlike the rest of your body, they are warm and cushioning, causing matt’s dick to throb at the feeling.

he doesn’t waste time and starts thrusting. the tip of him glides at your bottom lip with each thrust. all you do is stare at his acts, which is using your tits to get off.

the more he pleasures himself, the more you feel your arousal start to soak your underwear. without thinking, you open your mouth a little so your tongue kitty licks his tip each time he thrusts up.

he groans, looking at you through hooded eyes. “shit. keep doing that, baby.”

his thrusts starts to get sloppy, his hips jutting from time to time. “open wider. good girl.”

with that, he shoots his load on your lips and into your mouth. he uses his finger on your chin to make you close your mouth, tasting him as you swallow. he kisses your neck and collarbone, tracing his fingers on the hem of your panties before pulling them down.

he uses his thumbs to spread you open, seeing how soaked you are.

you whine, balling your hands on the front of his shirt. “matt, please.”

he kisses your cheek before putting his entire length inside of you, your slippery cunt making him have easy access.

you moan as he starts moving in and out. this time around, his thrusts aren’t hard and fast. instead, they’re slow and deep.

he doesn’t pull out all the way — maybe only an inch or two — to make his thrusts even deeper. your tits bounce slowly with his rhythm, and he never takes his eyes off of them.

eyes squeezed shut, you’re letting out short moans and whimpers, ecstasy flowing through your whole body.

fucking matt was phenomenal, but slow sex with him felt different. it felt more real and comforting; feeling safe in his touch.

“you’re so deep.” you exhale, the knot in your stomach starting to form.

matt’s head falls to the crook of your neck. “you’re taking me so well, baby. so, so well.”

his words cause your legs to shake at his sides, squirming from underneath him as you cum slowly around his dick.

he kisses your lips passionately as he pulls out, putting the last of his orgasm onto your stomach.

he falls softly on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “you’re so much better than a stupid trophy.”

you laugh at matt’s saltiness because of his loss at jenga. “this mother fucker gave me the lecture about how to play jenga when he’s the one who knocked it down.” he continues to complain.

“jenga’s a stupid game, anyway.”

he looks up at you. “thank you.”

you laugh again, the both of you laying there and enjoying each other’s company. matt listened to your heartbeat, and you played with his hair softly, thinking about how much you missed your boy and nothing else.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @mattslolita

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff

[ladyrowrites]

“EX-BOYFRIEND GOJO”

A/N: Just had a thought about this lol! Might have more ex-boyfriend series :)

Pairings: Gojo x Afab reader

Warning: Angst, Gaslighting, mentions of stalking and bribing, swearing, death threats, smoking, MDNI!!!!

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who gives you the annoyed look everytime you ask him to talk and fix your relationship. He’d sigh and say, “What now, y/n? Am I not enough for you?” 

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who broke up with you because he accused you of being too controlling even though you only asked him to tell you where he was and who he was with every time he said he was going somewhere. When you said that you only wanted to know so you’d stop worrying, he also accused you of being jealous. 

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who hated seeing you move on to someone else so he bribes or threatens all your prospects. Your dates will neither show up or just ghost you. When you learned this from Shoko, you immediately deleted all your social media, changed your phone number, and even changed your home address to escape from his toxicity. 

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who panicked when he went to your house to confront you why you deleted all your social media accounts but it was a stranger who answered your ‘supposed’ to be home and basically harassed Shoko for your new info. Shoko gave Gojo the finger and said, “Leave her alone.”

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who saw you outside your workplace with a blonde guy who was wearing a blue button up shirt under a tan blazer with matching slacks and light shoes and thought why were you two laughing so much and why were you two so close? He was about to approach you but you saw him in your peripheral vision and took your co-worker’s wrist and ran inside your work building. 

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who was furious when he saw you ran away with a nobody compared to him. Really that guy? He bribed and threatened your boss to give him your new address and phone number. There was the biggest smirk on his face because he thought he won.

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who was now fuming because it was the guy he saw you with answered your door and looked so nonchalant at him with a cig in his hand. “Who the fuck are you?” was what he said, the blonde hair guy replied, “If you don’t leave her alone, I will personally help her file a restraining order from you.” And closed the door in his face.

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who knocked loudly again but when the door opened, his face fell. The same guy now had a cleaver with black and white spots on it in his right hand, and said, “If you don’t leave now or ever…” Then blew a smoke in his face, “I don’t think there will be a nice ending for both of us and I really really don’t like going to jail.” Your ex-boyfriend Gojo just nodded and left.

#lady ro writes #gojo angst #gojo fan fic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #ex bf gojo #ex bf gojo satoru #ex boyfriend gojo #nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami

[earthstellar]

Brave Bang Bravern!: A Review for Transformers Fans

I've seen so much about this on my dash that I had to give it a try, and I gotta say, as someone who hasn't watched any new anime series since around 2008 at the most recent and I also hate the fucking military, this is a pretty good show.

THERE WILL BE SOME MILD SPOILERS. Nothing major. I'm not gonna spoil anything critical or mention characters that are introduced later etc. At of time of writing, only 6 episodes have been released.

Understanding Genre: The Trailer is A Lie

Now, while there is a trailer here, I want you to largely disregard it.

Why is that? Well, we need to talk about the "big two" robot show genres in Japan, which are as follows:

Real Robot -- This refers to a typically military setting or other serious setting, in which robots are handled as realistically as possible in terms of how they work and how they are applied. There tend to be less individual/sentient robots and more "suit" type mechs right along side human-made, more realistic machinery and mech designs, although that isn't entirely unique to this genre. Usually this stuff is labelled as sci-fi/action outside of Japan.

Super Robot (THIS IS THE SHIT TRANSFORMERS FANS GENERALLY WANT) --Essentially borderline seemingly magical robots with their own rules and in universe backstory for how they work, which isn't necessarily tied to realism. Usually this stuff is labelled as sci-fi/fantasy or space fantasy outside of Japan, since a lot of these tend to be space robots. They can be "driven" by pilots or just straight up sentient robots who are vibing with some human companions, although it's not exclusively that. It can be both, it can be neither, but no matter what, Super Robot shows are less about strict realism and more about really cool shit with robots that are basically their own people and exist according to their own rules.

Now, the trailer for BBBB (the acronym for the show is based on the Japanese title, which is Bang Brave Bang Bravern) is a COMPLETE FUCKING LIE.

It wants you to think this is going to be some dumbass GI Joe shit.

While there are elements of dumbass GI Joe shit, this is largely just to set up the premise for why shit is happening in the first place, and to help introduce the main threat (alien space creatures with fucking light beam lasers) as well as bring in our main characters under the premise of everyone having to work together to address this alien threat to Earth.

What we care about here amongst Transformers freaks is gay space robots, and this show delivers.

Getting Into Bravern: First Episode, Mild Plot Spoiler Summary

It wants you to think this is a Real Robot show.

The first episode sets things up as though it will be a Real Robot show.

There is a threat to Earth, a mystery space alien mechanical enemy, and nobody knows what the fuck to do. A military exercise between multiple nations using Titanostriders (which look very much like Shiro Masamune Appleseed-style mechs, human made in nature) to practice battle drills who are now instructed to swap over to real ammunition and go to fucking town.

Nobody knows how to do that.

They're skilled with the Titanostriders, sure, but it turns into a shit show. The alien mechanical enemies are using fucking space laser shit, it's a disaster---

--And then Bravern drops in from the fucking sky and it IMMEDIATELY TURNS INTO A SUPER ROBOT SHOW.

There's a "get in the robot, Shiji" moment where one of the Titanostrider operators, Isami Ao, is encouraged by Bravern to get inside of him.

He does. And immediately has no idea what the fuck is going on, Bravern is largely in control, and starts to blast his own theme song inside his cockpit as diegetic music while Isami is generally losing his shit, as one might do.

Humanity's reaction to Bravern is Real Robot genre type, where it is handled seriously by all the characters and organisations involved in universe, however Bravern is very much a Super Robot genre character who brings more of a Super Robot energy to the show at large.

The serious elements are mostly balanced by how fucking silly Bravern is, and there are some excellent moments in this show (currently only 6 episodes have been released) which make it entirely worth a watch.

Fun Things About Bravern Himself

Braven is very, very, very gay for his pilot.

Chances are, you've seen the screenshots of some of these moments on Tumblr already, but the delivery of these lines is magnificent.

Bravern sings his own theme song. It's the voice actor for Bravern doing the vocals, and the song itself is reminiscent of 1970s orchestrated big band energy mecha themes. For Transformers fans, it has a very Transformers Victory theme kind of vibe to it.

You gotta hear it, it fucking rules. The album cover shows Bravern holding a giant microphone.

Bravern is generally light hearted, doing his best to motivate his pilot while not hesitating to enter the action and try to defend humanity.

Now, why does Bravern care about humans so much? We don't know, but we'll talk about some mysteries in a later section below.

He is surprisingly insightful at times, while also fucking around and enjoying himself. (You may have seen screenshots going around Tumblr of Bravern with a loop of hot dogs strung around one of his chevron points on his forehead. This follows a scene in which he wants his pilot to take a break and associate with his peers for once, as a way to relieve stress. So they go to a bar, it turns out reception is positive and someone even brings weenies out for Bravern since he's too big to fit inside, lol.)

Generally, he's a very interesting mech, because we have so little information about him. He's fun, and clearly vibing, but he's also borderline if not outright obsessed with his pilot and has unknown origins, which has lead to some darker interpretations and audience discussion.

A lot of people have compared Bravern's energy to Rodimus, and generally I would agree with that. He has his high-energy silly moments, and his more serious personal moments (primarily with Isami, but also with Smith), and I think these aspects of his character work well to create a fun mech with the potential to be deep in a believable and effective way, with an equal capacity for being a doofus.

Bravern is obviously the number one reason to watch the show for most people, and I would say that if you're purely here for a giant gay space robot, then this is going to be a decent watch.

The Military Sucks: There Are Militaries Involved Yet Somehow This Is Still Watchable

I hate the fucking military, so at least the military here is depicted in an acceptable way (so far, at least). In episode 2, they waterboard Isami to interrogate him for information he doesn't have regarding Bravern, which is a realistically shitty and awful thing for the military to do-- They don't sugarcoat how fucked up the military is. These people very much have the capacity to harm their own staff, and they will do so if it means they might get an edge over the enemy.

At the same time, the actual characters in the military are depicted as primarily doing this shit out of a genuine personal desire to defeat these horrendously destructive space entities, which have attacked at least some of their home towns and home countries, so it's more personal rather than purely being a military directive that people are being forced to follow.

In this way, it's not really realistic, but everyone is on board for their own largely humanitarian aid type of reasons (there is a mission which is basically just locating survivors of an attack and then getting the fuck out) which makes the military context feel less oppressive and shitty.

Part of why this is more OK than other military depictions is because the military forces involved here are international (collaborating to defeat a global threat rather than kill each other's civilians) and because the military is clearly losing this war.

Because it's an international effort, this brings more diversity to the show-- There's a surprising amount of English interspersed between dialogue in Japanese here and there, and the military board consists of representatives from multiple nations, including some Germans who at first believe Bravern is some kind of secret American operation, lmao.

Bravern calls the military out on its shit, and essentially tells the military board to stop with the suspicious infighting bullshit and drop the internal tension because otherwise they'll all die to this mechanical nightmare creature threat.

They actually listen, which means this is an unrealistic portrayal of the military, lmao. I think they struck a good balance so far between showing that the military sucks and has problems, while also making sure that you're not really cheering for any given military force, but rather, you cheer for individual characters who just happen to be stuck doing this military shit as a premise for anything to be going on in the show at all.

So it's not the worst when it comes to the military shit; At least so far, it's watchable, which as someone who passionately hates the fucking military, is surprising to me.

It's less GI Joe and more "we just needed a reason for these characters to be involved in this situation".

Of course, your mileage may vary, but personally I found it easy to tune out or just skip through any military shit that got grating and I didn't miss anything important by doing so. At the very least, you can skip around and ignore a lot of this stuff and get right to the gay robot if that's all you want to do. It becomes clear pretty quickly what's going on if you skip around a bit, so no worries there.

Fun Speculation: What is Bravern?

Only 6 episodes are out at the moment, so there's tons of shit we don't know yet.

Bravern has a notable resemblance to a type of enemy in the show, called a Death-Drive.

Death-Drives are mecha who are distinct from the "minion" type enemies (which almost resemble flying saucers with laser gun arms and light shields), and have their own unique character designs and names.

Why these things are here, how they are here, why they are interested in Earth, and everything else is currently unknown.

Bravern looks like he could possibly be of the same mechanical species, although we don't know if that's true (yet). He has abilities that the other mecha don't seem to have, but how far this goes and what it might mean is not yet clear.

Bravern also seems to have knowledge of human media (he references The Abyss at one point and he likes 3D printing figures of sentai show characters lmao), and was immediately able to speak to the humans using language they would understand, so it's unclear if Bravern may have been studying Earth for some time before his arrival or why.

He is obsessed with his pilot and cares for him so much that he extends some care towards others purely based on their relation to Isami as co-workers; Why? What makes Isami special?

How does Bravern know seemingly every human language? How does his piloting system work? How similar is he to the Death-Drives-- Are organic beings critical to them in some way? If so, why are the other mechs killing so many of us? (These are big questions especially by the end of episode 6, due to some spoilers and a spoiler character who shows up later.)

We know little to nothing about a lot of the key elements of the show, including any motivations for the Death-Drives or what they are, what's up with the fucking UFO looking laser things, etc.

There's more to speculate on, but that would be getting into deeper spoiler territory so I'm gonna hold back on that for now.

Summary: It's Gay and Cool and Has Interesting Ideas

Bravern's not the sole source of gay vibes in this show, but it's fun that he is also a source of gay vibes in this show.

The designs are great, the Titanostriders remind me of Appleseed style mechanical suit designs which is nice, the Death-Drives are super interesting, Bravern is fucking fabulous but he's not too goofy to take seriously, and the military is unfortunately present but it's clear that they suck and are generally losing (and since the conflict is not between different groups of humans but rather is about human collaboration to defeat a non-human shared threat to our entire planet, this goes a long way to make the military shit tolerable).

It pretends to be a Real Robot show but has so much Super Robot show sprinkled in that you might as well consider it a little bit of both which the show balances pretty well.

I haven't watched an anime since around 2008 at the very latest, so I don't know how this might compare to any other robot animes since then and I am certainly not an anime expert by any means LOL, but this has been a fun show to watch so far.

It does have its problems, of course, but if you can get past the setup for the first episode (when it's still pretending to be a Real Robot show), from the moment Bravern arrives towards the end of that first episode, the show gains momentum and starts to get interesting very quickly.

It has some issues. But we're only 6 episodes in, so at the moment, they have plenty of time to potentially address those issues and we'll see where things go.

I'd recommend it if you want to give it a try!

I think there's enough here to appeal to the usual Transformers crowd and you might end up liking it, or at least having fun while watching it in the background.

If you end up wanting to to tap out then no worries-- I think it's worth giving it a shot and if it's not your thing, no problem.

Each episode is around 25 - 30 minutes, so while the first episode might feel like a slog to get through because fuck the military, once Bravern shows up the show actually gets started and I wouldn't blame anyone for just skipping to that point in the first episode and going from there, because there's nothing in that opening that you won't be reminded of or be able to figure out. It mostly just sets up the intro to the human characters and the collaboration training session, introduces the Titanostriders as a thing, and you can always go back and watch that part later if you want to.

All in all, pretty decent! Obviously we're Transformers people so we're here for the robots, and the robots are interesting and fun, and that's all I need to have a good time.

Hopefully this was a useful summary if you're interested or have seen Bravern stuff on your dash! :)

Thanks for reading!

BONUS: I forgot to mention this somehow, but there's a lot of overlap between Transformers and other Brave shows involving actual Transformers re-used in Japan for these shows; There's a good video about it here on YouTube which explains some of this, but if anyone's wondering, yes Bravern has a grounder alt-mode and it's pretty cool. Will we get a transforming Bravern figure??? We can hope!

There's another video here which mentions some of the Transformers elements in other Brave shows/Yuusha, which might be interesting for those of you who are unaware. :)

#maccadams #maccadam #bravern #bbbb #ba #bang brave bang bravern #long post #bravern review #transformers

[xxsabitoxx]

You were completely and utterly unbearable in his eyes.

Megumi x Fem! Reader

Warnings: name calling, public sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fucking while on the phone with someone else, drunk sex, rough sex, slapping, biting, degrading, overstimulation, more creampies

A/N: I aspire to write smut elegantly, it just never fucking happens. I had fun writing this though :)) also trying to find a new layout for the fics I post. Everyone always makes theirs look so aesthetically pleasing and I struggle LMAO This is unedited and not proof read — like always — so plz disregard any spelling errors. Unless they are major… then plz tell me

Word count 12.9k

Even the clicking of your pen was absolutely insufferable. Megumi’s whole body felt as if it had been doused in hot water, anger flooding him from the ends of his unruly hair all the way to his toes. “Could you stop that.” His tone was tense, jaw clenched tightly as his words barely slipped past his gritted teeth. “No.” Was all you uttered back, light and airy as if not a single thing could bother you. You haven't even taken your eyes off of the page you were studying to address him. That alone, infuriated him even more.

“Stop clicking your pen.” He didn’t like repeating himself, his fists tightened as he waited for your likely snotty response. “Like I said, no.” Again, not missing a single beat. Your eyes remained focused on your textbook, a small smirk on your face as you felt his leg begin to bounce under the table. You had gotten to know your lab partner pretty well over the course of the semester. Enough to know he hated your guts, also enough to know his little manursims when he was mad. Bouncing his leg was a clear sign you were getting under his skin. Just how you wanted to, just how you loved to.

Silence fell over the two of you, your pen still clicking, Megumi’s leg still bouncing. You always seemed to win these battles, typically because the man across from you would get up and storm away. If you were correct, he’d be getting up and leaving in less than five minutes. Time ticked by slowly, your finger never once stopping as you clicked your pen again and again and again. “Could you fucking quit it already!” Megumi’s fist hit the table, eyes sharp as a blade making contact with your own. “Could you fucking quit asking me? The answer is and always will be no.”

It was a staring match now, the only thing filling the quiet library was the click click click of your pen. Really you were both quite lucky it was so late at night and nobody on campus was stupid enough to be pent up in here on a Friday night… technically now Saturday morning. Instead of speaking, Megumi’s arm swung forward, aiming to pull or knock the pen right out of your hand. Instead you leaned back in your chair, laughing as you dodged his simple attack. “What are you? Four?” Bold words coming from someone who was slowly driving a man to insanity with a pen.

“For fuck sake, stop clicking the fucking pen.” He was seething yet too lazy to get out of his chair and return to his dorm. You just shook your head, clicking it over and over with a shit eating grin plastered to your face. One Megumi was aching to wipe clean off. His mind was always full of ways to get under your skin in the same ways you’d get under his. Yet some part of him figured it was better to be the bigger person. He’d only have to deal with you for a few more weeks, then the semester would be over. You’d no longer be his lab partner and you’d likely never see eachother again unless it was in passing.

“You are such a child.” You snorted, holding the pen out of reach and clicking it in rapid succession to drive your point home. Megumi had gotten out of his seat now, nearly lunging across the table for it. You laughed, loud and obnoxious as he missed for a second time. “Look at you! Throwing a damn tantrum. Aren’t you supposed to be like twenty or something?” Megumi just glared at you, one knee resting on the table while he watched your finger press down on the pen’s button again and again. He didn’t know what to do next, swallow his pride and sit back down or grab for the pen a second time.

He chose the other route, this time actually making his way over the table to grab the pen from your hand. Instead of triumphantly getting the pen away from you, things took a disastrous turn. You had leaned too far back in your chair, losing balance completely and landing flat on your back. As if it couldn’t get any worse, Megumi had lost his footing. He too fell straight off the table, landing on top of you with a loud thump. You both laid in silence for a moment, silence Megumi would have found blissful if it weren’t for the pain radiating in his knees. On The other hand, you were trying to force air back into your lungs.

Air that had been knocked straight out of you when your back hit the floor. Which wasn’t helped when Megumi went and put his whole body weight on you only a second later. After a second, he forced himself up, both hands caging in your head as he looked down at you. “This is your fault.” His cheeks were rosy, lips seeming to quiver as he looked at you. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” You huffed, the back of your head was throbbing from where you smacked it. “And get the fuck off of me.” You spat out after, eyes looking down to see Megumi straddling you. He caught on, immediately shifting off of you.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just stopped with that damn pen.” He moved to stand, not bothering to help you as you pulled yourself off the ground. “I’m done for tonight.” You sat on the ground in silence, watching him grab his laptop and textbook before storming out of the library, your pen still in his hand. Once he was gone you let your body relax a bit, a sigh leaving you as you reached up to rub the back of your head. “What a gentleman.” With any luck, you’d given yourself a concussion. The rest of your body would probably be tender by the time you woke up.

You could blame Megumi for that if you really wanted to, considering he practically body slammed you. You began to laugh, pulling yourself off the ground to pack your things as well. There was no way you’d get anything done with the way your head was thrumming. Megumi, however, was practically running back to his dorm, shame flooding his cheeks as he prayed no one would see him. “Get a grip you moron.” He muttered under his breath, head downcast as he tried to use his backpack to shield himself. It wasn’t quite noticeable but he was still mortified, slowly but surely there was a persistent problem growing in his pants.

“It would have happened if it were anyone, it’s natural.” Two bold lies to try and convince himself were actually truths. It only happened because it was you, that simple fact was too much for him to bear. It wasn’t until he reached up to punch in the entry code that he realized he still had your pen in his hand. “Fuck off.” He groaned, tossing it somewhere in the bushes before angrily pressing the numbers in. Megumi was starting to find everything irritating now, especially the issue he was refusing to acknowledge. “Just a few more feet.” He muttered under his breath.

A few more feet and he’d be at his shared dorm, something that still wasn’t used too. He missed his high school years for a moment, his own bedroom and bathroom all to himself on a quiet campus. Now he was at a bustling university campus in the heart of Tokyo, per Gojo’s request. It was all because the man sweet talked them into giving him, Nobara and Yuji a free ride. Now he shared a room with the pink haired man, as much as he loved him, living with him was proving to be too much. Yet semester after semester, he always chose to room with him.

Megumi’s shoulders sagged the moment he reached their room. Hanging on the doorknob was a sign Yuji had made specifically for these situations. “Do not enter” hooked over the door in Yuji’s attempt at nearly handwriting. That sign was to warn Megumi that he had someone in there with him, essentially telling Megumi to respectfully fuck off. “Of all fucking nights.” He could scream now, it was just one bad thing after another at this point. Not only was he annoyed that he couldn’t get him his dorm, he was mad about what the sign reminded him of. The very fact that he hadn’t gotten laid once this semester.

You were the one to blame for that. The stupid lab class he had chosen to take consumed most of his free time, naturally that meant you consumed most of his free time. He had no time to be dragged out to parties with Yuji and Nobara, no time to drunkenly woo a girl or guy back into his bed, no time to even get himself off alone. It was embarrassing, let alone the fact that it was obvious to the pink haired man that his best friend hadn’t gotten his dick wet in months. Megumi wasn’t usually the hook up type but fuck he enjoyed having sex.

He could, unfortunately, push aside his morals so long as he was promised blissful release at the end. “Fucking great.” He muttered again, still standing in place in front of his dorm door, as if that would magically erase the sign. He was left with no place to go, especially right now. Usually he’d just go visit Nobara, the girl had managed to score a dorm suite all for herself. She let him crash there whenever he needed. The bulge in his pants, however, was keeping him from really going anywhere at all. So he sulked off, making his way to the dorm’s common rooms. If he was lucky, it would be empty.

“Dude… can you give me y/n’s number?” They were in the dining hall, students coming and going from every direction, it made Megumi’s whole body feel uncomfortable. “What?” He could have choked on the cereal he was trying to eat, eyes widening almost comically as he looked up. “Y/n’s number, your lab partner?” Megumi rolled his eyes, swallowing his food before speaking. “I know who she is, dumb ass.” His heart was starting to pound now, he’d like to enjoy his time away from you in peace. Yet somehow you always managed to make your way to him in some form or another.

“Oh! My bad dude! You got a thing for her?” Yuji blinked with wide eyes, absolutely not phased by the death glare in Megumi’s eyes. “No I don’t got a thing for her, she’s fucking evil.” He put his spoon down a little harder than necessary. “Y/n? Really?” Yuji seemed shocked, all the while he was bringing more food to his mouth. It took Megumi a second to realize Yuji had referred to you as if he knew you personally. “Wait… do you know her?” His food was completely forgotten now, his full attention was on whatever Yuji would say next.

“I only know of her. She’s good friends with Todo, he said she stopped frequenting his parties once this semester started. He blames you for that, so I’d watch out for him if he ever makes his way on campus.” Of course you’d be friends with Todo, someone Megumi couldn’t stand. Luckily he attended a different university, just a little outside of Tokyo. Still close enough to go on missions if needed. “Wait…” you were friends with all these sorcerers? Yuji tilted his head, waiting for whatever Megumi would question next. “Is she a sorcerer?” How the hell wouldn't he have known sooner?

“No, I don’t think so. I know she can see curses but that’s about it.” Yuji returned to his food, acting as if he didn’t just drop a massive bomb on Megumi. Did you know he was a sorcerer? Had you known all along? “Oh but for real, can I have her number? She’s super hot.” Megumi nearly lost his appetite, “didn’t I tell you she was evil?” He was hoping to deter the conversation elsewhere. He had no valid reason to not give your number to Yuji. “You did, but I like a woman with a sharp tongue. Plus she’s friends with Todo so she must like to party. I think we’d be a great match.” Megumi sighed.

“I’m not just going to give out her number, ask Todo.” Yuji shrugged, finally dropping the topic of you, but not before saying one last thing. “If you like her dude, just tell me and I won’t pursue her.” It was soft, as if he were talking to a temperamental toddler who would throw a fit at any second. “I’m not interested in her.” But he couldn’t tell Yuji he could have you, those words got caught up somewhere in his throat. Yuji just shook his head, fully returning back to his food. Megumi could be utterly impossible sometimes, it would be best to leave you and the subject alone until his best friend could sort his shit out.

His head was pressed to the armrest of the worn down couch in the common room. Who the fuck knows what had taken place on this couch but for now Megumi couldn’t be bothered to care. He was squeezing his eyes shut, willing this dick to calm the fuck down. He was positive he’d have no interruptions, considering it was nearly 3am at this point. Most students would either be sleeping or drunkenly passed out somewhere. The likelihood of someone walking in on him or even remembering what they saw would be slim to none. Yet he still couldn’t bring himself to take the easy solution to solving the crisis in his pants.

“I have no choice.” He muttered softly, head lifting to look down at the insufferable bulge that he couldn’t get to go down. Shakily, he placed a hand over himself, gasping softly as some sort of relief was finally felt. He felt his cheeks turn a deep shade of red as he began fondling himself, the relief slowly turned into pleasure. He didn’t have the courage to undo his pants, he’d settle for this, as mortifying to him as it may be. “How fucking pathetic.” He groaned, head falling back as he found a good rhythm for himself, essentially dry humping his own hand. He tried to let himself relax, still too tense that someone could walk in.

It was one thing to be caught fucking someone on this couch, dry humping your hand? Absolutely horrific. Megumi would be the butt of every joke, some lame, horny college dude that couldn’t get someone in his bed. That only made him move quicker, hips moving to meet his hand as he struggled to reach his release. He was suddenly too caught up in the moment to think of one fatal error he had forgotten to consider. You also lived in this dorm building, meaning you would be the only one awake and sober right now to catch him.

You huffed, realizing you must have left your student ID in your dorm room. You punched in the numbers on the pin pad, it only took an extra second but it was still annoying. As you moved to open the door, you noticed something sitting in the bushes. “How fucking typical.” You laughed as you reached for your pen, the only sign that Megumi had also returned to the dorms. You plucked it from the bush where it had been carelessly discarded. “He really carried it all the way back here.” You chuckled as you entered the fluorescent hallway, your dorm was on the third floor, right above Megumi’s.

You clicked the elevator button, waiting patiently for it to drop to your level and pick you up. Nothing sounded better than a hot shower, some pain relief meds and your cheap twin XL mattress. As you stepped inside the elevator, an earlier conversation with your roommate popped into mind. She had told you to stay out late, maybe not even bother returning to the dorm till early morning. She was going to a party and told you there was no way she’d be returning to your dorm alone. Dread filled you as the elevator made its way up, you may be stranded for the next few hours if a certain sign was on your dorm door.

The elevator dinged, opening up to your room's floor. You stepped out hesitantly, making your way down until you turned the corner and stopped dead in your tracks. Sure enough, the butterfly magnet was slapped halfheartedly to the door. “Fuck.” You moved forward anyways, maybe you could slip in if they were asleep. You pressed your ear to the door, despite it being made of metal, it was still pretty thin. You held your breath, waiting to hear any sign of movement. Sure enough, you could clearly hear sounds you’d rather not. “Fuck off.” You groaned, kicking the metal door, knowing full and well neither of the two inside would be phased.

Your only choice was to head to the common room, maybe you could call Todo and see if he’d pick you up. You padded away, pulling your phone out and scrolling through your contacts. You found Todo, texting him to see if he was still up at such an ungodly hour. After a second of no response you clicked your phone off, shoving it in the back pocket of your shorts. The common room was a floor down, you clicked to summon the elevator and the door opened immediately. “I could probably get some more of the project done.” The throbbing in your skull had turned to a dull ache, more than enough for you to manage while you worked but it would still be annoying.

The elevator dinged again, opening to what you knew as Megumi’s floor. You made your way down the hall at a steady pace, you were in no hurry to spend the rest of your night in the common rooms. As you neared the open archway you froze, soft grunts and rustling met your ears. “Don’t tell me someone is fucking in there…” you whispered so low you barely heard yourself speak. You barged in, ready to make a scene and interrupt whoever it was that was too horny to make it back to their room. Instead, every insult died on your lips, mouth parting in shock at the sight before you. “No fucking way.”

You began to laugh, just as loud and obnoxious as you had in the library. All the color from Megumi’s flushed cheeks disappeared, all the while his hand froze in the worst way possible. “So we are in the same boat? Your roommate is fucking someone right now, right? That’s why you’re jerking off alone in the common room?” You 're still laughing, making your way over to the dingey couch Megumi was sprawled on. You were hovering over him now, watching as he was genuinely too horrified to speak. You hated to admit it but the sight of him desperately trying to get off, had you feeling some sort of way.

It had been a few months after all, judging from the bulge in his sweats, he wouldn’t be half bad. “Do you mind if I join?” You fully expected that to snap him back into reality, ready for the onslaught of curses and names that would be hurtled your way as he demanded you leave him alone. Instead, Megumi nodded, his body moving on autopilot to create some wiggle room for you to straddle him. It almost felt like the man had been put under a trance, absolutely hypnotized but his own lust. You were no better, crawling onto the couch and plopping your covered cunt directly over his bulge.

“How humiliating is this?” You laughed again, hips beginning to rock back and forth. “So fucking horny but too lame to get laid. Your roommate has more game than you, to the point he kicked you out so he could fuck some bitch in peace.” Your hips swiveled, Megumi gulped, hands coming down to hold your waist as you moved. “Though I guess I’m not much better, my room is off limits for the same reason. Kinda jealous I must say, I’d kill to have my back blown out right now.” Your hips moved a little harsher, you could feel the soft prickle of arousal hitting you, but it wasn’t nearly enough to get you off. Megumi, though, looked as if he was about to spill in his pants.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Megumi? I’m sure you’re in the same boat as me. That stupid fucking lab took up all our free time. You know how many fucking parties I missed?” You 're getting angry, hips pressing down almost painful against Megumi’s. He felt suffocated, not only by the confines of his pants but by your hips. He hated you, he absolutely hated you, especially as a moan slipped past his lips. “Yeah? Look at you, how fucking pathetic. Letting me grind on you like we are some horny teenagers. You aren’t even trying to take the lead.” You scoffed, moving to stand now, you were fed up with it already.

Megumi’s hands tightened, trying to keep you pressed to him. His release was so close and you up and leave him hanging, he really fucking hated you. “Oh loosen up, I’m not leaving.” You spat at him, pulling yourself to your feet. Before he could even question what you were about to do, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, tossing it somewhere on the floor as you dropped your shorts. You were fully exposed from the waist down, letting Megumi’s eyes hungrily drink in the sight of your cunt. “Pull it out.” You commanded as if it were a natural statement, not even when you were horny did you relax even a bit.

Megumi’s teeth gritted, that same anger filling his body, he did as you asked regardless. He lifted his hips, not exactly liking the idea of his bare skin on the couch below. Right now though, he knew what was coming next, therefore he couldn’t give a shit. You watched with folded arms, holding back a gasp as his cock slapped against his abdomen. Much to your pleasure, he was big, but you wouldn’t let him get the satisfaction of seeing you react. “I-I don’t got a condom.” Finally, he managed to speak. “Neither do I, but I don’t really care.” You were straddling his hips again, pushing his sweatshirt up a bit to expose some of his toned abdomen.

You grabbed his base, earning a hiss of “easy.” As you began greedily pumping him. Sticky precum was already smeared along his length from residing in his pants for so long. You had to hold back your groans, you were dying to feel him inside of you. Your hips lifted, angling yourself awkwardly so you could sit on his length, swatting away Megumi’s hands as they attempted to guide you. “Don’t.” You barked back at him, holding him steady as his bulbous head penetrated you. You struggled to hold in a groan, after a few months it really felt like the first time all over again. The stretch was uncomfortable, a burning sensation spreading all the way to your thighs.

You pushed past, lowering yourself on his length inch by inch until you met his base. You felt full, something you hadn’t felt in such a long time that you almost forgot how much you enjoyed it. A choked “fuck” escaped him, hands gripping your hips with bruising force as your walls sputtered around him. You were suffocating him entirely. He could feel everything, especially the way you were greedily clinging to him. He was, as much as he hated it, at your mercy for the time being. You rolled your hips slowly, mouth parting as he pressed further into what you had come to know as your “g-spot.” Megumi’s brows furrowed, eyes focusing on where his cock had disappeared inside of you.

“You’re fucking lucky you’re hot.” You began bouncing slowly, lifting your hips up until half of him was left and dropping back down. The couch creaked as you put your full weight down on him again and again. Megumi was still too stunned to do much else, he couldn’t bring himself to speak in fear of saying something that would piss you off and make you stop. Instead he held your hips, arms rising and falling every time you bounced. A smirk crept up your cheeks, struggling to remain a smirk as he passed over that one spot over and over. You had forgotten how good it felt, what made things even better is that he was keeping his mouth shut.

You could enjoy his cock and his beauty without the irritation of hearing his bitching. Slowly but surely, soft squelches began to emit from between your thighs. Every time your hips sunk down, engulfing him over and over, a soft squelch was heard as you lifted back up. You found it rather satisfying, especially with the way it seems to draw Megumi in. It was a soft wet slap of skin against skin, the pleasure in your gut intensifying each time you clenched. Part of you knew that even if a condom was available you would have gone without, there was something much more sweeter to this victory due to the fact that you were fucking him raw.

Your attention was pulled from his face a moment later, your phone was buzzing on the ground next to the couch. Todo’s name flashed on the screen, a soft “oh!” Tumbling from your lips as you bent down. Megumi groaned as he slipped out of your tight heat completely, cock twitching at the loss of your warmth. You rolled your eyes as he complained, sliding over the answer button in the process. “Yo! Todo! Are you just waking up or are you going to bed.” You straighten, one hand holding your phone to your ear while the other reaches for the slick base of Megumi’s cock. He was covered with your arousal, his own was still leaking from his irritated looking tip.

He had been close, somewhat thankful you pulled out when you did because he didn’t want this to end yet. “Of course you’d wake up at nearly 4am to start your day.” You sunk back down on him, not missing a single beat as you listened to Todo’s question. That was something that would normally absolutely infuriate him, being balls deep really seemed to mellow him out. “Oh I was calling you to ask if you were still having that party later today.” You found a new rhythm, this time the sound of skin slapping skin was much louder. You wouldn’t be shocked if Todo asked you what the sound was, you’d be honest with him if he did.

“Oh good!” You cooed into the phone when he said yes, Megumi could just faintly make out the man’s far too boisterous laugh for the time of day it was. “Oh well, I’m asking because I plan on finally attending this one.” You dropped down fully, Megumi’s body jolting forward as the tip of his cock pressed to your cervix. It was nearly painful but you kept your composure, using your free hand you began rubbing short, quick circles on your clit. You could feel Megumi inside of you, twitching with every thrust. The soft pants leaving his plump lips told you he was about to cum.

Megumi seemed to snap out of his daze when he heard Todo's laugh, followed by unintelligible but excited talking. He needed to see you lose your composure, something you had somehow stripped him of. The Megumi you were familiar with came back in the form of his hands bruising your waist. His hips jutted upwards, cock head slamming into your cervix over and over as he made it so your hips collided with every thrust. Now he could hear it, the gentle rasp, the undeniable strain in your voice as you spoke on the phone. “I-I’ll be bringing a plus one this time, Todo.”

Megumi was getting too worked up to care, the way your breasts bounced with every smack had his whole body vibrating. “Come for me…” he groaned, his voice sounding worse than your own. “Y-yeah! A plus one.” You drawled out the last word, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Megumi turned your pace to an unbearable speed. “Oh you’ll be s-surprised.” The phone nearly fell out of your hand, head falling back as ecstasy filled your veins from head to toe. The couch below you was now threatening to break, the creaking was loud enough to wake anyone up. “I-I’ll see you then. Do you need me to bring anything?”

Your orgasm was just in your reach, yet you couldn’t hang up the phone, especially when you knew it bothered Megumi. You could feel it, a gasp you couldn’t control slipping past your lips as your hips jerked wildly. Megumi felt more so than saw your orgasm hit you, your walls had become even tighter than he could have imagined, your arousal coming out in a sticky, warm gush. He could see sweat rolling down your temple, eyes seemingly clouded over as your bliss came over you in waves. Jealousy spiked in him, his hips never slowing his assault as he chased after his own release, the one thing that had gotten him into this mess to begin with.

“Oh sorry…” you snapped out of your daze as Todo called your name, you mumbled something about not having gone to bed yet. Your heart was shooting through your chest as you felt Megumi nearing his end, you couldn’t even focus on what Todo was saying as you attempted to pry yourself away from him. Megumi’s grip was a lot stronger than it had been before, your overstimulation mixed with panic was still no match for him. After a twitch you knew was much stronger than the last, paired with a low and steady moan, Megumi came.

All the while he had buried himself deep, dull head pressing painfully to your cervix again, white ropes pouring endlessly into you. Finally, Megumi had gotten your facade to drop just a bit, it was in the form of a slightly shocked expression. Still not as satisfying as what he was really looking for, but it would do for now. “Yeah I’m still here.” You glared down at the shit eating smirk plastered to Megumi’s face. His grip finally loosened, crescent nail marks dug deep into your thighs as you lifted enough for his softening cock to slip out.

Following it came his release, your arousal mixed with his cum followed steadily, dripping down into his cock and abdomen. You shook your head, muttering under your breath before bidding Todo a good bye and hanging up the phone. “Some fucking nerve you got, Fushiguro.” Not even his first name, had he not been so relaxed he probably would have bit back at your bait. “You hate me so much yet you let me fuck you. Then you have the audacity to keep me in place and cum. Fucking filthy.” You got up, maintaining some stability despite your thighs burning and your legs feeling like jelly.

“We’re going to Todo’s party later today. Don’t even fucking try and say no. You owe me big time for what I just let you do.” You said it as if you weren’t the one to offer, Megumi was still aching for more. He was aching for a second round where he didn’t just let you take the lead. He was going to get what he was after, he was going to get that smug look off your face. Now, he knew exactly how to go about it. Of course he wasn’t going to deny attending the party with you, it was the perfect set up for him to get his revenge. “Goodnight.” He called after you as you walked away, shorts pulled back on and phone gripped tightly in your hand.

For now, he was left with the mess you left behind, but for once he couldn’t seem to get mad. Instead his head was buzzing with the endless ways he’d make you putty in his hands. He’d make sure you felt as small as you had just made him feel, he’d make sure you cried his name over and over. It was the best form of revenge, it just sucked you had gotten to go first. Then again, you opened his mind to the best form of punishment he could think of. It was the perfect solution he had been too dense to find. “My turn, y/n.” He tucked himself away, grimacing at the sticky feeling he was left with.

—

“I can’t believe you are actually going!” Yuji was standing in front of Megumi’s mirror, gel covering his hands as he perfectly spiked his hair. It was nearly 7pm that night now and you had been the sole subject on Megumi’s mind. As much as the idea of this party filled him with dread, he wasn’t willing to let you go off alone. How ironic, he fucking hated you, didn’t he? So why was he suddenly so concerned about your wellbeing? His jaw was clenched tight, teeth aching as he opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Oh that’s right, y/n is making you go.” Yuji chuckled at the story Megumi had told him, something about tipping your chair and threatening to stop working on your final assignment. In order to keep the peace, Megumi agreed to go with you. A believable lie for Yuji, though Nobara may see straight through it. Luckily she was spending her weekend with Maki, so he didn’t have to worry about her much. “You’ll have fun, Megumi. Hell, maybe you’ll finally get laid. Sorry again about that…” Megumi suppressed a groan, of course Yuji would bring that up yet again.

Megumi wasn’t allowed back into their shared dorm room until nearly 8am. Luckily for him, the girl Yuji had slept with was a morning person, she was up and out of there bright and early. Not before another round, one Megumi nearly interrupted, according to Yuji. At least tonight he’d be the one bringing someone back, hopefully way before Yuji. Essentially a small little dig agaisnt his pink haired friend, this time Yuji would be the one waiting around, that is if he didn’t end up in someone else’s bed.

Regardless, Megumi was getting his revenge. After showering and getting access to his dorm again, Megumi crashed until two in the afternoon. You were, as always, lingering in his mind. You even had the audacity to fill his dreams. All he could think about was the way you so careless fucked him, as if it were a normal routine that required no effort. Never mind the fact that he had been so entranced he barely did anything in return. Embarrassment was nagging at him, despite the fact that his orgasm was the best he’d had in a long time.

Tonight though, he was paying you back tenfold. Hell he wouldn’t be satisfied until his bed was broken at the way his anger was starting to pent up again. “Next time, go to her room. Having to crash on that nasty couch in the commons wasn’t ideal.” He adjusted his collar, hand reaching for his cologne. “I said I was sorry!“ Yuji whined, as he moved to grab his shoes. Megumi had chosen a black button up, sleeves rolled to his elbows and the top two buttons undone, exposing his pale collarbone.

Accompanying his top was a pair of cargo shorts, all picked out according to your bitching at him through text. It was a pool party apparently, something Megumi had no desire for, so he forgoed any swim attire. Yuji on the other hand wore a pair of pink swim trunks and a white t-shirt with a Hawaiian shirt hanging open over top. One he was sure Todo gifted him at some point in their friendship. Their outfits were polar opposites yet somehow still fit the desired look.

“Are we meeting y/n there?” Megumi shook his head, moving to grab his shoes as well. “She’ll be waiting for us in the common room.” Yuji hummed, it was only revealed to him earlier that day that you happened to live in the same building. “Well, should we get going?” Yuji’s hand was already on the doorknob, bouncing like a small kid waiting for his parent’s approval. “We should. You got everything you need?” After another nod, Yuji yanks the door open.

Here goes nothing and everything all at once.

You were laughing with a group of kids in your major when Megumi and Yuji found you. “Y/n!” Yuji called as if he had known you his whole life, your head shot up, a smile crossing your face that Megumi never saw directed at him. “Is that the infamous Itadori Yuji calling my name?” You stepped away from the table of students, walking towards Yuji as he walked towards you. Megumi watched in shock as you easily wrapped your arms around the pink haired man, what got him even more was the fact that Yuji easily reciprocated.

“In the flesh! Todo has told me a lot about you.” Megumi could hear your groan as you pulled away a moment later. “Oh I can only imagine the things he’s said. You and him have been friends since high school, yeah?” As you and Yuji separated, Megumi finally was able to process what you had on. A black maxi dress with thin straps, the dress itself hugged you perfectly, accentuating every curve. Hell, it took him a moment to pull his eyes away from your ass. As his eyes roamed back up towards your face, he noticed the equally thin straps to a bathing suit just barely hidden. He had to suppress a groan.

There was something irritating to him about how easily you seemed to get along with Yuji. He thought back on that conversation they had in the dining hall a few weeks prior, maybe Yuji was right. But Megumi wasn’t interested in you… he couldn’t stand you, yet there was jealousy bubbling in his chest. Green eyes shifted over to a couple sitting on the familiar, old couch. He didn’t expect to meet your gaze the moment he looked back towards the two of you, a small smirk on your lips as you knew what he was thinking. Once again, you and Megumi were unknowingly sitting in the same boat.

You had managed to keep your aloof attitude going until you were out of Megumi’s sight. It wasn’t until you walked away from him that you felt embarrassment flooding your cheeks, somehow you had kept your composure but you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even as you made your way through the dorm building with no destination ahead, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fucked out expression, the way his eyes seemed glossed over as he stared at your cunt, the way his brows furrowed when he was close.

You had caught him in a vulnerable moment, you were positive that’s the only reason why he didn’t try and take things over. From experience, you knew it was the guys like him that usually had a lot going on. After that little excursion, you were proven correct once more. Now, even though you were sure he’d never make the move, you wanted to know how mean he could be… in different ways. “Glad you listened to me.” You shamelessly looked him up and down, you had caught him not so subtly doing the same to you moments prior.

“Yeah, Fushiguro cleans up nice, doesn't he?” Yuji hooked his arm with yours, you held back a grin as Megumi’s eyes zeroed in on the movement. “He does, I’m used to the baggy sweats and grandpa loafers.” A loud “hey!” Left Megumi’s lips as both you and Yuji laughed, it was already starting to get on his nerves, Yuji was far too close for comfort yet you didn’t seem to care. “Let’s get going.” He groaned, aching to deter the conversation away from him and maybe get you away from Yuji. “Ugh, lame.” You tugged Yuji along with you as Megumi made his way out of the common room.

“Oh, how are we getting there?” Yuji asked absentmindedly, he nearly forgot that Todo’s campus was across the city. “Bus or subway, whichever you guys have a pass for. I have both.” That was one other thing that reminded Megumi of how badly he missed jujutsu tech, the fact that someone was always there to drive them around. It was a luxury he didn’t realize he had taken for granted. “If you have neither, I can drive, but you’ll pay me gas money.” You laughed as Yuji seemed shocked to hear you had a car on campus.

“I’ll pay you the gas money.” Megumi’s voice was soft, he turned to glance at the surprised look on your face. “Alright, works for me. It’s a good thing I grabbed my keys.” The elevator opened, letting the three of you on as Megumi hit the button for the ground floor. He figured it would be best that transportation was readily available, especially if his plan worked out perfectly. Knowing you, you’d find a way to somehow ruin it without even realizing, that’s why he had backups. “I’m parked right by the building so it saves us the walk.” You were jingling your keys now, excited to show off your prized possession.

Your car was a two door mustang, one you spent a lot of time working on, plus it had more upgrades than you could count at this point. Megumi should have known someone like you would have a car like this, well a car in general he should say. “I call shotgun!” Yuji was bouncing again, just like an excited little kid. “I’m taller and I’m paying the gas money, you’re getting in the back.” The back in question was barely there, Yuji would be lucky if he could even get his legs in. The pout on his face was priceless but he didn’t put up a fight, especially when Megumi glared at him.

“It’s fine, you boys can share.” You were sliding into the driver's seat as you spoke, just a bit jittery at the idea of driving the city. It was part of the reason you had a bus and subway pass, yet you always liked to show off when you could. “You better be a good driver.” Megumi was tightening his seatbelt as your engine roared to life. “I cherish my car more than I cherish your life, so yes, I’m a good driver.” He rolled his eyes, there was the y/n he was used to. Yuji however didn’t seem to catch on to what you said.

“Fuck you.” It was barely above a whisper, you laughed as you pulled out of the lot, not missing a beat you whispered back “You already did.” Megumi had to hold in his reaction, jaw clenching as he turned to look out the window. “Did Todo ask you to bring anything, Yuji?” The pink haired man shook his head, eyes scanning his phone screen. “For once he handled it all himself.” You pulled off of campus and into the city, your anxiety spiking as you pulled up to a red light.

“He’s only like twenty minutes from here, right?” You knew the way by heart but it had been a while. “Yeah.” Silence fell over the car once again, music played quietly, Megumi still hadn’t looked back at you. You glanced back at Yuji who was still distracted by his phone before turning to look at the lights. Carefully, you crept your hand over towards the passenger seat, resting it softly on Megumi’s thigh. You felt him tense beneath you, head turning to look in your direction. You kept a smirk plastered to your face as you drove through the green light.

Megumi was stuck between three options. Asking you what you were doing, pushing your hand off, or leaving it where it was. Somewhere in the back of his mind came the worry of what Yuji would think if he saw it. “Why?” Was all he could muster as you took another turn. Instead of answering, your hand snuck a little further up his thigh. “You can’t be serious.” Another whisper you didn’t respond to, this time Megumi was the one to glance back at Yuji. As you came to the next red light, you pulled away. “Text Todo and tell him we’ll be there soon.” They were still about 15 minutes away.

Megumi felt disappointment flood him, that disappointment turned to confusion as to why exactly he felt disappointed in the first place. You seemed to think you still had the upper hand, once again he felt annoyance begin to bubble up in his chest. Really, how did he even get roped into this? It was embarrassing the fact that he wanted to fuck you again, this time properly so he could wipe the carefree smirk off your face. “On it… wait turn that up I love this song.” You snorted, turning up the volume so loud Megumi couldn’t even hear himself think. You met his eyes, smiling as his nose scrunched.

“Let’s see how long you last.” You spoke just loud enough for Megumi to hear over the music and Yuji’s terrible singing. “The fuck does that mean?” So maybe you weren’t as clueless as he assumed. “I know you’re dying inside because I’m dragging you to this party.” Or… maybe you were as clueless as he assumed. He just rolled his eyes, ignoring the fluttering in his chest as you turned another corner. Tonight really may kill him if your driving and Yuji’s singing didn’t get to him first… to be honest it just may.

The next fifteen minutes flew by far faster than Megumi would have liked, now you were parking half way down the car lined street of a tucked away university campus in the heart of Tokyo. “People sure do get here early.” You stepped out, pushing your seat up so Yuji could get out. “Those are the ones who panic thinking they’ll miss out.” Megumi’s door shut a moment later, his anxiety spiking as he could already hear the thrumming of music from where he stood. “Ah yes, the newbie party goers. How cute.” You cooed as you locked the doors. “Yeah, Fushiguro will fit riiiight in~” Yuji’s arm hooked around his shoulders before promptly being shoved off.

“Oh I knew it!” Megumi didn’t even get a chance to defend himself as you began to laugh, Yuji had just exposed an embarrassing secret. The number of parties he attended was significantly smaller than the number you and Yuji had. That’s not to say he’s never been… it was more so an every few week thing, rather than every weekend and then some. “Oh fuck off.” He groaned, making his way up the car lined street, leaving the two of you behind. “We gotta get a couple of drinks in him, maybe he’ll loosen up a bit.” You snort as Yuji quickly agrees, chasing after his moody friend.

—

It was happening far too fast for his liking. Megumi made the stupid choice of not dropping the annoyed act, not even after he crossed over the threshold of the raging party. He was quickly led to the drink table by Yuji, completely losing sight of you as you got pulled away by a group of old friends. He could still make out Todo’s booming voice over the pounding music, especially when he called your name. Megumi couldn’t see you of course, instead he was being handed shots and other liquors while people tried to talk to him. Maybe it was stupid to think he could get his revenge at a party like this.

The environment overwhelming him was much more your domain than his, and that was saying it lightly. Now he was stumbling towards the backyard, the house far too crowded and far too stuffy to enjoy. The buzz he had going made him feel like the room was spinning, as if a rug was about to be pulled from under him and he couldn’t move fast enough. “Fucking Yuji.” He groaned, slipping past a group of girls that were not so subtly checking him out. Yuji, too, had abandoned him at some point in the night, by now it had to be close to 10pm.

You were just as bad, in the three hours you’d been here, he still couldn’t find you. He hit the grass a moment later, some sort of relief flooding him as the cooler night air met his clammy skin. He felt like a lightweight, months of barely drinking were starting to bite him in the ass. “Y/n… where the fuck are you?” He wasn’t even whispering, the music was still playing on speakers that surrounded a large in-ground pool, no one would pay him any mind anyways. It was just as crowded back here as it was in the house, but at least it was far more spacious. Now all he had to avoid was rouge splashes from the drunken fools.

He found an empty seat, claiming it before someone else could. The stability was enough for him to be able to focus, eyes scanning his surroundings until a familiar face appeared. Yuji was closer to the deep end, hand roughly gripping the concrete edge of the pool. It took Megumi’s foggy mind an extra few seconds to process what he was seeing. Yuji wasn’t alone, not by a long shot. You were with him, arms wrapped around his neck as you whispered in his ear. Nothing could have sobered Megumi faster than that sight. Yuji’s cheeks were flushed, undoubtedly his other arm was wrapped around your waist.

For a moment, Megumi could have sworn he saw red, yet he couldn’t move from the chair he was in. Instead, he watched, suddenly too aware of the world around him yet not at all at the same time. It was like tunnel vision, all he could focus on was the way you were laughing with Yuji. Your hands were playing with the damp strands of pink hair, eyes locked with his as you talked aimlessly about anything, not that Megumi could hear. He watched as you pushed away, dragging Yuji away from the pool’s edge to disappear under the water’s surface together. Megumi felt his heart rate spike, the world starting to spin again as he anxiously waited.

You surfaced a moment later, your laughter reaching him even over the music. That’s when it happened, your lips pressed to Yuji’s with such confidence that he was certain it couldn’t have been the first time you’d done that tonight. You pulled away from Yuji a moment later, watching his eyes open half heartedly as he chased your lips. You missed this feeling, drunk with music pounding all around you and an attractive someone’s hands all over you. Yuji wasn’t his best friend, the one you really wanted was Megumi. For now, his polar opposite best friend would be enough to satisfy your drunken mind.

Or at least that’s what you thought. Suddenly you were looking up at the man in question, his eyes full of hatred as he stared at the two of you. “Yooooo Fushiguroooo!” Yuji, clueless as ever, just smiled dopely at his best friend. He didn’t respond, he didn’t even look at him. Instead his eyes were focused on you, it was enough to send a flurry of butterflies swarming around your insides. “Get out of the pool.” You watched his jaw clench, his hands were balled into fists, as if he was daring you to try and defy him. You felt laughter bubbling in your chest, your little Megumi was trying so hard to be intimidating.

“Why? I’m having fun.” You pulled Yuji a little closer, chest pressing to him as you smirked up at Megumi. “Get the fuck out of the pool.” He repeated, throat bobbing as he swallowed. For once he didn’t care if anyone was paying attention to him, he didn’t care if he made a fool out of himself, he was getting you out of that pool. He was getting you away from Yuji. You tilted your head, a smile tugging up your lips in a way that Megumi would have found sweet if it weren’t for the look in your eyes. “Is something bothering you?” Your hands were grabbing at Yuji’s face, the poor boy was too far gone to really pay attention to you and Megumi’s conversation.

You pressed your lips to his again, a kiss Yuji greedily accepted. Your hands traveled to bury in his wet hair, legs wrapping around his waist. He was taller than you, his feet could still reach the bottom whereas you were struggling. One eye peaked open, aiming to gauge Megumi’s reaction. Instead you were left hanging, the man in question was no longer by the pool’s edge. You parted from Yuji out of shock, he wasn’t even bothered, instead he began kissing your neck. You tried to look around, figure out where he could have disappeared to in such a short time.

Instead all you saw was drunk party goers doing an stay of things like dancing, laughing, low key fucking… you stopped the moment a second pair of arms met your waist. You tried to whirl around and look but you couldn’t, you didn’t need to really. You knew who it was the second their chest met your back. “D-did you really…?” Megumi had jumped in the pool, fully clothed. You were in for it now. He was quiet, not so gently tugging you away from Yuji. To his dismay, the pink haired man had already managed to leave a hickey on your neck. “Yo… Fushiguro? Whatta you doin?” His speech was slurring yet he let go of you easily, allowing Megumi to drag you through the water and towards the edge.

“None of your business.” It was quiet and full of anger, you just shrugged at Yuji as you were pulled away. “Am I still getting a ride home?” You shrugged again, yelping as Megumi forced you up the ladder first. “Fuck Fushiguro! Chill the fuck out.” You stumbled onto the concrete, apologizing half heartedly to anyone you bumped into. Megumi didn’t respond, instead he pulled himself out a moment after you, hand gripping your bicep as he pulled you away. “What the fuck is your problem?” Megumi was making a beeline for the pool house, tucked away in the corner of the large backyard.

“Oh now you aren’t going to answer me? Fucking Christ Fushiguro! If you wanna leave that badly call a fucking uber or something. I’m not driving either of us back to campus soaking wet, you jumping in the pool was your own damn fault! And you know what? How fucking dare you pull me away from Yuji!” His grip grew tighter, so much so that you nearly yelped. “Answer me you ass!” You no longer felt the effects of the alcohol you had consumed, now, nothing but anger was left in its wake. “I can’t believe this! Really! I shouldn’t have even asked you to come. I should have just taken Yuji.”

You were about to continue your ranting but Megumi had you tucked away and out of sight, your back pressed harshly to the wooden exterior of the pool house. “If you would just quit bitching for five fucking seconds and let me fucking talk.” His face was inches from yours, hands now pressed to the wall caging in your head. “You are fucking unbearable. Seriously. I can’t fucking stand you.” You scoffed as he drew out each word, as if he was talking to a child. “I can’t fucking stand you either bozo. If you dragged me over here like some creep just to berate me, I’m fucking leaving your ass here.”

You tried to duck under his arm, instead he lowered it, body moving closer until you were really trapped. “I wasn’t fucking finished.” You swallowed, lips pressing together in a tight line. He was close, too close even. You found it hard not to think back on what you had done earlier in the day, something that felt like it occurred decades ago at this point. “You have been nothing but a pain in my fucking ass for months now. You love to fucking piss me off, you know just how to get under my fucking skin. Honestly it’s impressive at this point.” He paused, eyes trailing over your unreadable expression.

“Then you to and fuck youself using my cock. You acted so fucking smug, like it was the easiest thing in the word for you to get on that couch and stuff yourself full of me. It fucking pisses me off. You are all I’ve been able to fucking think about, and then I find you with Yuji.” You were frozen, not expecting his berating to take the turn you had been hoping it would. “Does it bother you? Does it bother you I would have fucked your best friend if you didn’t interrupt?” He moved closer, your mind shutting down for a moment when you felt something hard press to your hip. “Does it feel like it bothered me?”

You swallowed, eyes shifting between his face and somewhere behind him. You suddenly lost the confidence to maintain eye contact with him. “Well?” He sounded a bit calmer, still waiting for you to reply. He took your silence as an opportunity to finally look at your bathing suit, which had been teasing him since you left the dorms. It was a two piece, a stringy top clinging to your chest with a pair of bottoms that hugged you perfectly. It flattered you in every possible way, for a moment Megumi almost forgot why he was so pissed off to begin with.

There was something about you that made him feel so… pliant. Like he would be putty in your hands the second you showed any signs of reciprocation. “Fushiguro…” you weren’t sure what to say, your voice hesitant for once while talking to him. You knew what you wanted, you could feel what he wanted, yet you were still waiting for him to take control. You didn’t necessarily want to answer him, you wanted him to act on his own accord. “Do whatever you want.” There was a small bite in your tone, one that made a smile pull at your lips. At least there was a teeny bit of attitude left in you.

Those were dangerous words for Megumi to hear, a low groan slipping past his lips as his head fell. With his face falling from view, it gave you a second to catch your breath, for a split second you were able to ignore how close his body was. As his head raised to meet you, another thought crossed your mind. Everything had been such a whirlwind up until this very second, so much so that you had neglected to fully appreciate Megumi with his hair down. His black hair was dripping wet, plastered to his forehead in some places. Despite that, it was already beginning to stick up again in other areas.

Maybe that really was the way his hair naturally sat.

“Say it again.” He murmured, the bite in his voice gone for that brief second. “Say what?” You knew what he wanted, yet you still couldn’t let him have his way, always needing to find a way and make it difficult. “You know what.” There it was, that angry tone that made butterflies whirl around your body. “Do whatever you want, Megumi.” You drew out the end of his name, tensely anticipating what he’d do because of it. Softly, just barely audible you heard him mumble something that sounded a lot like “fuck it.” You couldn’t process it for long, his lips crashed against your’s with so much force your head hit the wall behind you.

A strangled yelp died on your lips as Megumi consumed it. Your hands reached up to plant themselves on his wet chest, nails digging into the damp material to pull him even closer. A larger hand came up to grab the back of your neck, the other reaching for your waist as his teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You groaned, mouth parting to easily welcome his tongue. You hoped no one was drunk enough to stumble back this way, your whole body feeling as if it was lit on fire as Megumi pressed you up against the wall behind you. It felt as if you were trying to consume each other from the inside out.

You tug until the material begins to strain under your touch, only then do his hands leave you to pull the garment off of him. You wanted to pull away, appreciate his fully bare torso rather than the little sliver you got back in the common room. Megumi, however, wouldn’t let your lips leave his, only satisfying your urges by pressing his body fully against yours again. His skin was hot to the touch, still damp from jumping in the pool. You moaned, hands roaming over every inch you could touch while shivers passed through his broad frame. You pulled away reluctantly, gasping for air as Megumi’s hands came up to cup your cheeks, aiming to pull your lips back to his.

“Fuck… Lemme breathe.” Your chest heaving against his as he mumbled an apology. It was quiet, save for the pounding music further up the yard, right now it felt as if that party was miles away. “Are you okay with this? Here? It’ll be kind of tricky.” Your nails were scraping his hips, a look of pure lust passing over his face as he squirmed under your touch. “Does the pool house… have anything? Or is it just equipment.” He was staring at your lips as he spoke, hands still cupping your face. “I-I don’t remember… but there has to be something in there we can use…” he was on you again, lips meeting yours as his hands left your face and moved to your ass.

You squealed as he hauled you upwards, finding it hard to miss the smirk on his face. “A warning would help.” Your lips were back on his before he could even respond, nails scraping up his shoulders. You gasped, pulling away from him as your back left the wall, lips moving to suction to his neck as he quickly carried you around to the front of the pool house. You knew it was getting to him, your teeth sinking into the sensitive junction where his shoulder met his neck. “Fuck.” He missed the doorknob first go, hand fumbling to grab it a second time and shove it open. “So eager.” You teased as he kicked the door shut behind him. “Looks like it’s our lucky day.”

You pulled away from his neck, turning to survey the dark room. It seems they had turned it into a guest house rather than a pool storage area. There was a bed, a dresser and a TV on the wall. On the other end there was a large pool table. Pool supplies and equipment were shoved in the corner. “Damn, you’re right.” You deadpanned, lips moving back to bite his earlobe. He groaned, nails digging into your flesh as he made a beeline for the sizable bed. You were dropped unceremoniously down onto the soft comforter, your damp bathing suit already making a mark. It didn’t take long for Megumi to crawl over you, knees planting firmly between your thighs.

There was a moment of silence, the dull thrum of music playing just beyond the walls. Megumi’s lips pressed to yours again, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he moved to tug your bathing suit top off. Your nails dug into his shoulders, scrapping upwards in hopes of leaving marks while arching your back enough for him to pull the knot loose. Megumi pulled away the moment he felt the strings come loose, one aching thought had been desperately wanting to see your breasts. “Stop fucking pulling away.” You held back a smirk as your top was tossed off to the side, watching as Megumi’s eyes drank in every inch of skin.

“Shut up.” he mumbled a delayed response as his lips descended on your chest. You held in a shaky gasp, relishing in the feeling of his swollen lips against your skin. A large hand came up to massage the soft flesh while the other was lavished under his tongue. You buried a hand in his hair, tugging softly as he rolled the pebbled skin between two fingers. Heat pooled in your gut the longer he toyed with your breasts, “fuck… these are so cute.” he licked up your sternum, teeth scraping your collarbone as he moved to return the favor by biting your ear. “Megumi…” your chest was heaving, waiting for him to do more.

He glanced at your flushed face, lips parted as if silently begging him for more. Your chest was glistening with his saliva, dark bruises forming sporadically on your breasts. “Hmm?” he hummed, hands coming down to hook under your knees and push them upwards. “What do you want?” he murmured as he took your earlobe in his mouth, hips lowering to press against yours with his new angle. “More… want you… inside.” your hips jolted to meet his, the smallest bit of relief washing through you as you met his sloppy thrusts. “Mmm I’ve already been inside though…” he stopped rolling his hips, pressing himself tightly to your aching cunt. “Want you…inside again…”

You felt drunk off his touch, the alcohol in your system felt like nothing compared to the way he was making you feel. “Is that so? I was thinking of something else honestly…” he pushed himself back up, admiring you for a moment as he got off the bed. You pushed yourself up, using your elbows for balance as you watched Megumi get on his knees. “Do you mind?” he was already hooking a slim finger under the band of your bathing suit bottoms. “N-not at all.” You couldn’t bear the eye contact, choosing to lay flat on your back as Megumi exposed your cunt for a second time. You tried to slow your breathing, hands twitching to grab the comforter below you.

You waited, eyes peeking open when Megumi still hadn’t done anything. “What are you…” he laughed softly, hands spreading your thighs further apart. “Just looking… now do me a favor.” He pushed upwards a bit so you could make better eye contact. “Keep these spread nice and wide for me. If you even try to close them I’ll walk out and leave you here with no clothes.” You let your head fall back in order to keep him from seeing you roll your eyes. “Yeah yeah I got it-“ you gasped as a harsh slap made your thighs shake. “Don’t fucking roll your eyes.” you nodded, a hand slapping over your mouth in an attempt to hide how it made you feel, his low chuckle told you it didn’t help.

You braced yourself as his hands left your thighs, two fingers roughly spreading you open. Megumi’s fingers trailed between your slick folds, collecting your arousal before spitting on his fingers, plunging two of them knuckle deep with no warning a moment later. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, back arching as he scissored you roughly. His mouth met your clit a second later, licking in time with the way his fingers spread inside of you. Instead of thrusting them in and out, he began massaging them in different areas, clearly looking for something. You kept your thighs spread as he asked, hands gripping the comforter tightly as you forced your hips not to jerk. Your head flew back, a loud cry leaving your lips as he found what he was looking for.

“There we go…” his mouth was back on your clit a moment later, two fingers massaging the spongy part of your walls. You felt breathless, a whine leaving your lips with every exhale. Megumi loved every second, your cunt coating his fingers in your warm arousal as he kept abusing your g-spot. Slowly, his hand lowered to palm himself through his pants, fingers fumbling to pull the wet material open so he could properly relieve his tension. He freed his aching cock, hand wrapping around his length to sloppily pump himself. “Megumi…” you mewled, hand shooting down to grab a fistful of his hair to keep him in place as your orgasm crept up on you.

He didn't fight back, eager to feel you cum around his fingers as he chased his own release. “Megumi fuck! Please…please” you pant, eyes squeezing shut as you begged for him to not leave you hanging. Megumi groaned against your cunt, panting as his tongue struggled to maintain a steady pace, his own release creeping up faster than he would have liked. Evey circle of his fingers made it feel as if you were about to burst open and make an absolute mess of the sheets below you. Instead of stopping him, you let it happen, aching to feel your cunt clench and gush around his fingers. Megumi focused his attention on his head, thumb brushing over his slit and hips jerking as he overstimulated himself.

You wailed his name as your orgasm crashed down on you, warm liquid rushing down your cunt and thighs, staining the sheets below you as you fought to keep from screaming. Your reaction alone was enough to have Megumi spilling into his fist as he worked you through your own release. He wasn’t done with you yet, pulling his fingers out of your tight heat as he stood to properly discard his bottoms. “M-Megumi please gimme… gimme a second… w-wait wait…” he was plunging himself into your already sensitive cunt, tears burning your eyes as you had no time to breathe. “Fuck!” you squirmed as his length split you open.

“You don’t get any mercy, you didn’t show me any.” his mouth was against your ear, his hands pushing your thighs towards your chest, successfully trapping you in a mating press. “Y-your just mad… I…” you lost your train of thought, not able to form a coherent sentence as Megumi’s hips drew backwards and slammed forward again. “Don’t give me shit when you got your pussy stuffed full of me.” your head turned to the side, eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment as the sound of skin on skin filled the room. Megumi chuckled at your embarrassment, finding satisfaction in the way you couldn’t look at him.

Megumi didn’t care how overstimulated he got, he was already addicted to the way your cunt clenched around him so tightly. “You look so— fuck—- fucking pretty when you cry.” You hadn’t realized you had been crying until he said something, eyes fluttering open with wet lashes. Your hands found stability in his hair once again, tugging on the strands until his lips met yours in a salty kiss. He whined, tongue lapping your mouth so you could taste your own arousal mixed with his saliva. That familiar tension was building in your gut tenfold, overly sensitive from your first release. “M-Megumi… please don’t… don’t cum in me this time.” You were positive you’d get pregnant if he were to cum in you twice in the same day.

“Oh don’t worry…” he had something else in mind, he could control himself enough to see it through. Megumi’s hand snuck down between your bodies, fingers finding your puffy clit to rub it harshly. You mewled, throat hoarse from the amount of times you’d said his name. “Come on… wanna feel your pretty pussy squeeze me tight again, been thinkin ‘bout it ever since.” He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth sucking it before letting it go again. You gasped, your second orgasm more intense than the first as your walls sputtered around his aching length. “Good girl…” he cooed, hips pistoning into you as your orgasm fizzled out. He wasn’t too far behind you, a few more thrusts until he was yanking himself back out.

“Squeeze these together.” He tapped your breasts as he kneeled, pulling your aching thighs down so he could straddle you instead. You did as you were told, eyes heavy as you blindly followed his instructions. Megumi pumped himself steadily, brows furrowing in the effort to keep himself from coming just yet. He placed the tip of his cock between your breasts, giving it a tentative press forward before pulling back. You whined, understanding his intentions as you squeezed your breasts together a little tighter. “Cum on me.” You mumbled, hazy eyes meeting his. “Fucking… don’t say that shit so causally..” he picked up his pace without realizing.

“Megumi~ please cum on me.” You repeated, mouth parting slightly so your tongue could slip out. The sensitive head of his cock met your warm tongue with every thrust forward, it was enough to have him double over, stars clouding his vision as his release spurted over your face and chest. You collected the little you could on your tongue, swallowing it as he stared down at you with a shocked expression. “Thank you.” You mumbled sleepily, not caring about the sticky mess that you had no way to clean. “Fuck…” he gasped, body giving out and collapsing beside you, careful to avoid the mess he left on you.

“Wanna do it again?” You had no energy, not even enough to lift your head. There was, however, something funny about the way you could feel Megumi’s body tense despite not being close enough to touch. “Fuck… give me a few minutes, yeah?” Oh. You blinked, head flopping lazily to the side to look at his sweaty form. “Well you’ll have to clean me up first, if you really wanna go again you’ll be doing all the work.” You were struggling to keep your eyes open, not expecting to hear the pool house door open a moment later.

“Fushiguro? Your shirt was outside are you…” any ounce of exhaustion in Megumi’s body left him the moment Yuji drunkenly stumbled inside. You gasped, curling in on yourself to try and shield your body from his view. Megumi was on top of you a second later, covering your body with his. “What the fuck Itadori?” He barked, angrier than he had ever sounded towards his best friend. Yuji was too many drinks to count, but it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. “What the fuck me? What the fuck, you! Really bro?”

He dropped his shirt on the ground, suddenly getting defensive. “Get the fuck out, I’m not discussing shit with you, Itadori. Not right now.” The pink haired man didn’t seem to like that, face flushing with anger. “Oh get over yourself! You said you fucking hated her! Now I find you naked in bed with her? You knew I fucking liked her!” Yuji had no issues with Megumi pursuing you until you were all over him in that pool. Maybe he really was too drunk to have this conversation but betrayal was creeping its way up his chest. “Itadori, get out.” Megumi remained calm, feeling you tense under him at Yuji’s words.

He stared, unsure what to do. He glanced at you, just hidden from sight and knew for your sake it would be best for him to leave. So he did, shaking his head as he slammed the door behind him. “Can we just stay here tonight?” You mumbled after a moment of silence passed. “Yeah… we’ll deal with that… later.” Megumi got up, walking over to lock the door like he should have done in the first place. “I don’t think anyone will notice if we just spend the rest of the night here.” He stumbled back to the bed, laughing as you looked him up and down. “You still need to clean me up.” It was starting to turn sticky on your skin.

“That’s a personal problem for you to fix…” a pillow thrown at him was enough to have him collapsing on top of you, lips crashing messily to yours. “Fine… since I don’t want to listen to your bitching.” You rolled your eyes, kissing him again before pulling away. “Isn’t my bitching what got us here in the first place?” This time, Megumi rolled his eyes. “Maybe it was…”

Part 2? Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome and appreciated 💞 - May

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[thestalkerbunny]

I was talking with a Co-Worker today about the fun cute rebranding of Twitter. And as a person who has two degrees in WHY that's a REALLY bad idea, I had things to say.

-People Hate change. People just fucking hate change SO MUCH? You don't understand. -

People accept GRADUAL rebranding change more easily. Like how the Starbucks Mermaid has just gradually been getting CLOSER AND CLOSER over the years. But other than that, they haven't really changed it a whole lot. They just sorta removed the fish pussy from the situation.

(I don't consume Starbucks, but I'm an advocate for bringing back fish pussy)

But it's gradual. You can accept it if it's gradual. This is JARRING, fucking where's my BIRD?

-People hate fucking Rebranding so much they will ignore it in Favour of addressing a brand by it's dead name.-

Fedex Office used to be Kinkos. It did copying and all that bullshit. Kinkos was acquired by Fedex and became Fedex Office. They changed that shit over night. And Nobody fucking KNEW what happened nor would they address Fedex Office as Fedex Office. To the point of signing checks addressed TO KINKOS. Eventually they had to start putting up signs on the stores saying 'Kinkos inside.'

-Twitter X looks like a fucking PORN website icon. Who the fuck names a website just X if they aren't selling Drugs or extreme BDSM erotica?-

-My prediction is Twitter Stock will plummet like a fucking ROCK in the next few years if not MONTHS. Elon Muskrat is not a financial wizard if he doesn't understand the fundmentals of people (who hate change) and owning a website used by those people. (Who hate change.)

#TSB talks #Twitter X #Twitter

[wreckedandpolemic]

can't seem to get it right - matty healy

prompt: secret admirer

day 1 of the lovely @abiiors' valentine75 prompts!! i actually dont think this is very good i am very much a one trick pony in this space However i had fun writing it and thats what matters!!!

no warnings here this is v v short and sweet <3

Nauseated, you swat at the tacky, heart-shaped balloon as it drifts into your vision, ignoring its owner’s affronted scoff and stomping off down the hallway. Matty snickers behind you and you turn your glare on him. He holds his hands up in mock-surrender. “What’d that balloon ever do to you?”

You roll your eyes. “Fucking hate this week. It’s not even Valentine’s yet and this whole fucking place is full of dickheads who think their hormone-fuelled ‘love story’ makes them the centre of the universe. Just an excuse for brands to paint themselves pink and flog you shiny crap that’ll go in the bin after five seconds.” A strange look flickers across Matty’s face, but the bell rings sharply before you can question it. You trudge off to your class — double History, ugh — and don’t think on it for another moment.

The boy that sits across from you in History, Cameron, has a massive crush on you, flirts incessantly, flushes when you turn a smile on him. He’s not hard to look at, sweet-faced and kind, and not totally hopeless with a textbook, either. So, when he blushes and stammers his way through asking you out when you mention not having any Valentine’s plans, you think, this could be fun. “Is it gonna be worth my time?” you ask, leaning towards him and grinning when he flinches. “Convince me.” Eyebrows go up around the table at your challenge, Cameron smiling nervously and stuttering out something that passes for an affirmative. You flash your teeth, predatory. Maybe you shouldn’t play around with boys like this, but it’s so much fun. And they make it so easy.

The next morning, a card addressed to you has been slipped into your locker. The message is short, but sweetly poetic, witty in a way you hadn’t known Cameron could be. It’s unsigned, but the sentiment is adorable, and you make a mental note to get him a gift later. You catch sight of Matty sloping down the hall, and wave him over. “How sweet is this?” you say, smiling cheek to cheek. “Didn’t think he’d actually convince me to go on a date with him, but… Who knows? Might actually be fun.”

Matty’s face falls for a split second, before he rearranges it into smooth blankness that quickly crumples into confusion. “Wait– date? With who?” he demands. 

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Cameron. From my History. He’s nice.”

Matty scoffs. “I’m sure,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. Your face scrunches, displeased. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m sure he’s a top bloke, and you’ll skip off into the sunset holding hands and pop out a million adorable little blonde babies.”

You splutter a laugh, shoving him gently. “Don’t be a dick. He’s nice,” you repeat, fixing him with a glare. “I haven’t even agreed to the date yet, nobody’s skipping off into the sunset.”

Shrugging, Matty kicks idly at the row of lockers. “Yet,” he teases, and the brief flare of awkwardness between you melts away. “Listen, I really don’t feel like hanging around this shithole the rest of the day. Wanna come smoke?” he offers. You shouldn’t — you really shouldn’t — but that’s never stopped you before. Especially when it comes to Matty and the teasing grin he dares you with.

“Go on, then.” You shoulder your bag and follow Matty out of the gates, the short stroll to your favourite smoke spot passing quickly as you chat back and forth about nothing.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going on a fucking date,” Matty tells you, voice thickened by the smoke pouring from his mouth.

“Oi!” you snap playfully. “Why’s that so unbelievable, huh?”

“Well, you’re hideous, for one,” he says, gasping when you stomp down hard on his foot. “I’m messing, I’m messing! You were the one being mardy about Valentine’s Day, like, yesterday, though.” He shrugs, passing you the last of the joint. 

Flicking away the roach, you blow out rings of smoke. “Yeah, I dunno. Probably won’t go, but it’s kind of nice being chased.” You scoff, leaning back against a tree. “I know you don’t have that problem, ‘cos you’ve got all your fuckin’ groupies.” A sharp edge creeps into your words at the end, and you bite the inside of your cheek to curb it. “But some of us aren’t used to that attention every second of the day, and we take it where we can get it.”

Matty shrugs. “Touche. Don’t think he’s worth your time, though,” he says, tone thick with something you can’t decipher through the weed-induced haze enveloping your mind.

You wave a hand dismissively. “Shut up, you dick.”

After dousing yourself in body spray to cover the weed smell, you let yourself into your house, stopping short at the bouquet that sits innocently under the hallway mirror. Red carnations bound around pink roses and an inexplicable spray of miniature daffodils, a muted pink ribbon tying them closed.

“Hi, love!” your mum shouts, appearing around the corner. “Those came for you while you were out. No name. Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” she grins, nudging you as you flush.

“It’s just this bloke from my History.” You wave a hand dismissively, but you can’t help smiling at the bouquet. “Trying to convince me to go out with him for Valentine’s.”

Your mum’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, eyes so wide it’s comical. “You? Valentine’s?” she says incredulously, face softening into a warm smile. “Love, that’s great. You’ll have such a good time,” she smiles.

You scoff. “Steady on, I haven’t said yes, yet.”

Smirking knowingly, your mum pads off into the kitchen, shouting back at you to be down for tea in an hour. You pick up the flowers on your way upstairs, arranging them delicately in a vase on your windowsill and snapping a quick picture. You debate texting Cameron a thank you, but decide against it — he sent them anonymously, after all.

Strangely, though, Cameron’s behaviour the rest of the week is at odds with the gifts that keep piling up. The chocolates aren’t a surprise, and nor is the single red rose laid across your desk, though maybe a little dramatic. But he doesn’t take credit for any of it, nothing in his face even indicating there’s anything he should be taking credit for.

That Friday, the last day Cameron has to convince you, a little, flat box finds its way into your schoolbag. You peel off the ribbon and find a delicate necklace nestled against deep blue velvet. It’s exquisite, a crystal pendant hanging off a thin silver chain. You slide into your seat in History, a little bemused, and smile at Cameron. He smiles back, twirling his hands nervously. “Everything was lovely,” you say, and his brow furrows in confusion. “The card, and the chocolates, and the flowers. I’d love to go out with you.” He breaks into a wide smile, sunlight practically beaming from his face. “But the necklace is too much — it must’ve cost a fortune!”

He blinks innocently at you. “Um, that’s great. I’d, um, love to take you out. But, uh, I didn’t get you any gifts,” he says, biting his lip.

Your head spins as you sift through your memories of the last week, reexamining them through a new lens. All at once, something clicks into place, and you bolt out of your seat. “I’m sorry,” you rush out. “I can’t go out with you. I’ve gotta– I need to go.” You shove your stuff back into your bag, leaving Cameron stuttering and baffled at your back, and dash off.

You find Matty where he usually is, tucked away in a practice room and engrossed in a guitar. Taking a second before he notices you outside the door, you fix the necklace around your neck and smooth your hair nervously. Should you put on some lipgloss? No, that’s crazy, right? It’s Matty. Your heart is racing, your mouth suddenly dry. How were you so fucking stupid? Of course fucking Cameron from History didn’t write that stupid card. 

Taking a deep breath to settle your nerves, you turn the handle of the practice room, and it rattles but stays closed. Locked, obviously. You clap a palm to your face; this is off to a terrible start. Then, Matty looks up, eyes lighting up as they find the pendant at the hollow of your throat, your heart melting at the sweetness in his face.

Matty stands up to open the door. “Hi,” he says, and all the tenseness melts from your body.

“It was you,” you whisper, collapsing into his arms and resting your head on his shoulder. “All of those lovely things were you. And you let me bang on about fucking Cameron all week! Matty, I feel like a total idiot, I’m so sor–” Matty cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, tentative and gentle.

“Knew you’d figure it out eventually, love, smart girl that you are,” Matty murmurs against your lips, and you smile softly, face flushed. He pulls you close, his body warm against yours, and tugs you into the practice room, pressing you up against the door as soon as it clicks shut. 

You lose yourself in his kiss, his hands steady at your waist as you melt against him. His tongue parts your lips and sweeps your mouth, tasting faintly of cigarettes and spearmint gum. Breathless, you break away, a string of saliva briefly connecting your lips, and you giggle quietly as it breaks. “Thank you,” you murmur.

A dopey smile crosses his face. “You’re welcome,” he says, cupping your jaw and pulling you back in, kissing you so hard it steals the breath from your lungs. A quiet squeal escapes you when he dips his head to bite at your neck, and you indulge him for a moment before pushing his head away gently.

“Down, boy,” you say, giggling when he kisses over the necklace at the hollow of your throat.

Matty’s eyes shine hopefully as he looks down at you. “So,” he dips his head to kiss you. “Can I finally take you out?” He punctuates every word with a kiss, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Widening your eyes, you look up at him with a pout that splits into a smile without your permission. “Well, my Saturday did just free up…” you tease, and he rolls his eyes. “I’d love to.” You stretch to your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Matty grins, his joy practically infectious, warming you through and melting your heart, leaving it dripping stickily down your ribs. His lips meet your neck again, his next words murmured against your bruising skin. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

#alternate universe in which matty took alevels lol #the flowers Allegedly mean 'my heart aches for you' 'please believe me' and 'unequalled love' #dont hold me to that idk i did a very cursory google search #also these r all scheduled but happy show day to me!!! #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy smut #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #valentine75 #writing #smut

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11

Prompt: Royalty AU

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending

"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir." 

"What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit." 

Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair. 

"Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-" 

Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?" 

"What, now you care?" 

He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs. 

"Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?" 

*

The skate park has new graffiti, and he hasn't even seen it yet. Eddie exhales his cigarette smoke and watches how it curls up to the sign spelling Hellfire Youth Center.

Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe he should be here more. Maybe he's been so caught up in the whole fame and fortune thing, he's losing sight of what's important, like- 

"Watch out!" 

Like guys on skateboards barrelling towards him. 

Eddie throws up his hands. The guy tries to swerve, completely tips his precarious balance, and goes flying off the board and right into him. They land on the asphalt with an undignified oomph. 

"Shit, sorry," babbles the guy and tries to disentangle his limbs from Eddie’s. "Couldn't brake-" 

"S alright," Eddie hears himself say, even though his ass hurts like a bitch from the impact and he can already feel the bruises forming. "You can fall into my arms any time." 

Skateboard guy blinks up at him and - fuuuck, he's cute! In a scrungly, beanie-stuffed-over-chestnut-locks, black-rimmed-nerd-glasses kind of way. 

For a second, nobody says anything. 

"For fuck’s sake," someone swears, and then little Max Mayfield is running towards them, ginger braids jumping with the movement. "I told you to be careful." 

"Sorry," cutie with the glasses says again. Eddie has never seen him around. He must be one of the new volunteers Chrissy mentioned. "Guess I'll need to practice some mo- ow, shit!" 

His hands fly up to cradle his knee. There's a hole and a rapidly spreading bloodstain in the fabric of his jeans. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says, and whips his bandana from his back pocket to press it to the wound. "Red, why don't you hop inside and get the first aid kit? I'll stay here with …" 

He trails off expectantly. Cutie's eyes go wide. 

"I, erm … Dustin." 

"I'll stay here with Dustin." 

*

Dustin, it turns out, isn't just cute, but also fun to talk to. He doesn’t gush about what a huge fan he is or ask for an autograph once. Eddie never thought he'd appreciate that one day, but it gets really old really quick. 

Instead, they jump from one topic to the next, sitting on one of the benches and watching Max go on her board. Dustin has a quick, sharp wit and isn't afraid to counter Eddie’s jabs with his own, delightfully bitchy sense of humor. Damn, to think he almost missed this one. He really needs to be around more.

"I love this place, y’know? You created something great for these kids." 

Eddie jerks to attention. The sun has started to dip, casting Dustin’s smile and the hair poking from his beanie in a soft golden light. 

"Thanks man," Eddie murmurs, and feels the bitterness boil back up. "Some people seem to think it needs better publicity, though." 

Dustin shuffles awkwardly, winces when the movement pulls on the Care Bears bandaids Max has plastered all over his knee. 

"You mean the royal visit?"

Eddie huffs. 

"Yeah, man. I mean, what are they expecting me to do, bow and grovel while his Royal Doucheness prances all over the place with his perfect hair and fancy suit and thank him for it? It's not like he cares about these kids, it's all just a gig to him."

Dustin draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You can't know that. Maybe he does care. Maybe he's-" 

Eddie barks a laugh. "Oh, give me a break. All the royals are good at is looking important and spending our tax money. I can fucking do without-" 

"Steve? We gotta leave, c'mon." 

They both whip around. A fancy black limousine with tinted windows has pulled up in the parking lot behind them. A gruff looking man is holding the back door open and looking at them expectantly. 

Dustin sighs and stands. 

"Coming, Hop." 

"Wait, wait, what?" Eddie babbles as he walks towards the car, shoulders in a sad little hunch. "What's going on? Who's that guy? Why's he calling you-" 

And then it clicks. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says. 

Dustin … no, Steve … no, Steven - Crown Prince Steven fucking Harrington - gives him a tight smile while the man ushers him into the backseat. 

"Thank you for your time, Mr Munson, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll try not to be too much of a douchebag, I promise." 

The door clicks shut. 

The car glides away. 

Eddie buries his face in his palms. 

"Jesus fucking Christ. He's the fucking Prince."

Beside him, wheels grate on asphalt as Max brakes.

"Wow," she deadpans. "You're in some deep shit." 

Eddie groans. 

Tomorrow is gonna be a long-ass fucking day. 

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie ficlet #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[lokischocolatefountain]

omg say no to me and salvation have me gagging… pretty please write more, i need hubby javi 🥵 ur amazing

I love that you liked hubby Javi! I like him a lot too. So, a little warning: I wrote this out sleep deprived and in a hurry so it’s going to be full of mistakes. 🙈 but I hope you like it. Wrote a little birthday themed thing for Javier Peña and his wife from this married Javi universe because it’s Pedrito’s birthday. Happy birthday to him and tbh fuck him (respectfully) for making me thirst over a fucking cop (on top of a merge mansion ad character I hate him).

Switch It Up

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3.8k words

Summary: Javier Peña and his wife switch roles for his birthday

Javier Peña was a grown man. He was a federal agent working for the DEA in Columbia, he saw several horrors a day and had a goddamn gun tucked in the back of his jeans. He was a grown man with a whole wife to show for his age and maturity.

He should not be so bummed about a lonely birthday.

It was her fault really. Before her, he didn’t really do birthdays. His friends usually got him presents— the best whiskey they could afford and a trip to the strip club and paid for prostitutes. It was more for their sake than his own (though he couldn’t deny that he had fun). When it got serious with his now wife, he opted to forego the stripclub and the prostitutes because he had decided that it was no longer fun to sabotage the one good thing in his life. He’d exchanged the bachelor life fun for a perfect day off with her.

Every year brought something different; she was innovative that way. The first year, she woke him up at midnight with her lips around his dick and brought him the cake she baked from scratch. She blew him and he blew the candles. He hadn’t cut a cake in years. The last time was when his Ma was still alive. They ate the cake together, saved some for Steve and Connie and he ate her to thank her for being the perfect girlfriend.

Last year, she took him for an all expense paid trip to Medellín for a whole week. It was the most time he’d gotten away from work and the only time he spent in Medellín without chasing after pieces of shit. She had arranged for some mountain climbing shit because of his love for physical exertion. He chose instead to love her all week long for physical exertion. She complained about having brought her climbing gear for no reason, but that didn’t last long. It was a little hard to complain when you had a dick in your mouth.

He’d been thoroughly spoiled as a husband.

This year, he was all alone with a whiskey bottle from Steve and Connie, sloppy cheek kisses from little Olivia and a whole cake from his wife. He’d kept a sizable slice for himself and placed the rest in the break room for everyone to enjoy. Cake wasn’t as delicious with nobody to share it with.

Javi didn’t mean to be ungrateful. He knew she would’ve stayed behind if she could have. But her parents really needed her to help with the sale of her childhood home and he wasn’t going to act like a kid and ask her to stay because it was his birthday. It would’ve been silly.

“Jav! They found the guys. Carillo needs you in this address right fucking now,” said Steve, barelling into their office with a piece of paper in hand.

“Fucking finally,” he muttered, taking the paper with a scribbled address. He’d sat idly at work all day tackling their paperwork backlog while Steve was out there doing some real work.

The location was…strange. It was oddly quiet and there was no Carillo, no CNP guys. He had a choice to make— he could wait right there and keep an eye on the building and go in when the rest of the guys arrived. Or he could go in by himself. The second was extremely unwise. He would get told off by everyone from Noonan to his wife. If he didn’t get killed first.

Minutes passed by and he chose the latter option. He could handle Noonan. She didn’t approve of his actions, but she always understood. Gun tucked in the back of his jeans, he crept around the building. Once he’d found an open window, he slipped in, praying to the Gods he no longer believed in to keep him safe for another day.

Darkness suffocated his sight as he walked further into the building. The noise from outside the building grew dimmer and dimmer, eventually fading into the background. He crept like a cat, his shoes making nothing but the slightest whispers against the floor of the building. It had looked like a commercial building from the outside and if he remembered right, this place had once been a stripclub. Not one of the good ones for sure. It had to have shut down for a reason.

The place was littered with cardboard boxes, the contents of which he would explore had he not a mission in mind. Three of the most elusive hit men on Escobar’s payroll were hiding out somewhere in the building. The location was a bit too unusual for the men who had a record of gravitating towards luxury, but it wasn’t too out of place for them to have chosen a former strip club.

He spun in place when he heard a clatter behind him, his gun pointed in the direction of the sound and his heart beginning to beat faster. He took a few steps towards the source of the sound, wandering further into the building.

Click, click, click

High heels against wood? No, can’t be…

Nevertheless, he followed the sound.

Ahem

What the fuck…

Lights went up suddenly, illuminating the dark hall. The room had been swept clean with nothing but a chair in front of the stage. Under the bright lights above the stage glimmering a beautiful silver was a pole.

A voice cleared its throat again. When it finally spoke, it had a sultry tone to it.

“Agente Peña…”

No… It can’t be.

Click, click, click, click, click….

He saw the impractically high high heels first. Click, click, click against floors that were probably designed to amplify these sounds. The red of the shoes stopped to give way to white socks stretched tight around legs he would kill to throw over his shoulders. The socks mercifully, or mercilessly, stopped under bruised knees to expose full thighs he wanted to sink his nails into.

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, earning the laughter of the woman on the stage.

“Your friends told me it was your birthday, Agente…”

“It is,” he said, tucking his gun away. Hands on his waist, he took slow steps towards her. He needed to see her up close, confirm that his mind wasn’t conjuring up the most salacious thoughts after having had to go without a good fuck for an entire week.

“Your friends seem annoyed, Agente… They say they miss the fun single Javi who they could take to strip clubs. Now, I’ve never met this fun Javi before, but god if you look like this when you’re not fun,” she said, using her index finger to point at him, “you must look hot as fuck when you’re fun.”

“This your way of telling me I’m usually boring, sweetheart?” He asked, taking a seat on the chair she’d set out for him in front of the stage. He made sure to spread his legs and lean back comfortably in his seat before he folded his arms behind his head.

She smiled her sweet shy smile that he was sure was responsible for landing him in this exact moment in his life. She bit down on her brightly painted lips and wrapped his hand around the pole before swinging around. Her hair was out of the tight pony she put it up in for work. As she twirled around the pole, her hair swung free, caressing the wind before resting on her shoulder and cascading down the crimson shirt she’d stolen from his cupboard.

“You’re going to do as I say if you want a good night, Agente…”

“Ah… That’s how it is?” He taunted, letting condescension slip into his voice. “Alright. As you command, sweet thing.”

“Good boy,” she purred, the sound going straight to his cock. Calm the fuck down, Peña. She hasn’t even begun yet.

“Hands behind your back,” she ordered, looking down at him imposingly from where she stood.

“Sorry, what?” He asked, blinking rapidly and tilting his head to take a good look at her. Habituated to her shy smiles and pleas to be taken and fucked throughout their time together, it wasn’t an understatement to say that he was shaken by her sudden assumption of the commanding role.

Her fingers glided up and down the pole and for the first time he noticed that her nails were done up all pretty with the brightest red nail polish there was. Fuck, she’d gone all out. “You fuckin’ heard me, Peña,” she snapped and took a few steps forward before dropping to her ass, gently like a caress against the surface. He didn’t even know she could move like that. She hopped off the stage and his heart caught in his throat as she got closer to him and he caught a whiff of her perfume in the air. She stopped when she was over him, her legs spread out on either side of him. Oh how he’d missed the scent enveloping him as he buried himself in her and threw her into a world of ecstasy. The soft moan that escaped his lips surprised even him.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he breathed out, tracing a hand up her thigh only to be swatted away rudely. She grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks and digging her nails into his skin just enough to give him a taste of how she’d be piercing the skin on his back as he fucked her later that night. He’d make her keep those shoes on for sure.

“Jesus!” She swore, the scorching heat of her gaze beginning to burn him. “No manners. Is this how you treat dancers, Agent? Fuckin American, touching everything, acting entitled to every goddamn thing, not following a single rule… It’s about time someone taught you a lesson.”

“Well darling, if there’s one thing I’m entitled to, it’s you,” he teased, hoping to rile her up and make her look all adorable and hot with rage. The next thing he knew was a stinging pain on his cheek.

“Once more.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as she caressed the cheek she slapped. He swallowed, looked up at her and tried again, “Please, Ma’am. Once more.”

“Good boy,” she purred, her lips curling up in a smirk of satisfaction. Was this what she saw in him when she laid under him and took all that he had to give her for the night? Seeing her so confident in herself, feeling the sting of her authority on his cheek and sitting underneath her, he felt like he finally understood why liked this so much.

He had a feeling that as the night matured, he would only get a better understanding.

“Hands behind your back.”

Eyes still set on her, he moved his hands behind his back. Just like she’d ordered. She took a step back and he immediately missed her closeness, missed how she crowded over him and put him down in his place with just a stare. She slipped a hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out the leather pouch with the handcuffs. Once she retrieved what she’d wanted, she tossed the pouch over her shoulder. She circled him, their eyes still joined in the heated gaze of expectations. He leaned back on his chair, praying to the lord that he didn’t look absurd doing that. The last thing he wanted to do was make her laugh.

The cold metal of his cuffs nipped at his wrists and he attempted to pull his wrists in opposite directions, enjoying his own failure at achieving the freedoms he only half-heartedly sought. She placed her hands on his shoulders from her place behind him and descended lazily down to his eye-level.

“Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor. Disfruta del espectáculo,” she whispered before giving him a peck on the cheek. He attempted futilely to grab her so that he could kiss her properly, so that he could devour her lips and thank her for showing up for him.

There was music. It didn’t appear magically. She pressed a button on the cassette player he recognized from home before she walked up the stairs to the stage. Everything seemed torturously slow. Even the way she walked away from him looked to be designed as slow poison for him.

She descended gracefully to the floor and sat herself on her side, her back curved as she leaned back, her high-heel clad legs together with her left leg covering her right. She pushed her ass and tits out. She swept her leg out in a circle around herself, lifting it in the air as her right leg followed suit to make a semi circle. He caught a sparkle of something under his shirt that she wore as she exposed herself to him for a few seconds before she bent her knees and brought her legs back to where they started.

Javi drew in a sharp breath as she quickly got to her knees and twirled around again. This time, she let her right knee support her as she let the left kiss the smooth floors with the platforms of her shoes, back and forth, back and forth as his cock twitched in his pants. He would never forgive himself if he ended up jizzing in his pants seconds into her dance that she’d clearly put a lot of effort into.

Next thing he knew, she was upside down— fuckin’ hell— and spreading her legs, giving him a view of the little skirt and thongs she wore underneath as his shirt gave way to gravity and revealed her for him. She snapped her legs shut, as though punishing him for staring before she slid her legs over the floor and laid herself out flat, her delicious behind bouncing from her momentum. Spreading her knees apart, she rose from her position and let her hair flip around before she got up— how the fuck did she get up from that position??

Fuck!

He realized he’d said that out loud when she looked behind her shoulder and laughed before holding the pole, her fingers wrapping around it one by one. She stroked the goddamn thing up and down like she would his cock and fuck he’d be proud if he wasn’t so mad about being locked up with nothing to do but watch, to be a passive participant in her erotic torture of him.

She twirled and twirled a little more around the pole in many different ways. She moved effortlessly, dancing around the thing like it was no big deal. But he knew the strength it took to swing around a pole like that and look sexy as hell while at it. He knew how strong she was from the way she bent one leg around the pole and spun as she let the other draw a circle around her.

His thoughts, as scarce as they were with the sight in front of him, went off to a dreamland where he took advantage of all the flexibility she was displaying to bend her in every which way he wanted, to take her in all the ways he imagined. Sexier was the thought of her practicing this routine. Just for his sake. Just to do something special for him.

When she stepped away from the pole for a few seconds, Javi thought that was it. He was a fool. She stopped at the edge of the stage and looked down at him before she snapped the button of the shirt off, exposing just a bit of her cleavage. Eyes trained on his to derive sick joy from his torment, she snapped the buttons open one by one.

She was a sight.

Back to the pole, she held it like it was a part of her, letting the metal assist her as she closed her eyes and put herself on artistic display for him. He was one lucky man. He’d always known, but it bore repeating. He was lucky as fuck. She shed the shirt and he moaned as the action gave him more of her to see. He would never tire of seeing her body no matter how many times she took her clothes off for him be it to seduce him or simply take a shower.

Behind him, he struggled against his handcuffs, the metal digging into his skin and leaving marks for him to cover up the next morning.

He gasped as she climbed the thing like it was no big deal and wrapped herself around it. His heart jumped right out as her back arched backwards and he thought for a moment that she would fall. But she didn’t. Her legs were holding her in place around the pole. She brought herself back down, landing her shoes on the ground and pinning him with her gaze. She then took the strings wrapped around her waist and tugged, letting the barely-there skirt unfurl from around her.

His mouth was wide open in awe when she threw the sparkly black fabric at him. It covered his eyes for a fraction of a second as it hit him in the face before dropping down to his lap. He growled her name and cursed as his hips rose up from the chair in a desperate search for contact. Any contact. God, he’d even fuck his fist if she’d let him. But she ignored his plight, letting her starving husband continue starving as she moved torturously both on the pole and the floor in front of it.

When her bra came off—tossed in his direction again— he whimpered like a pathetic creature that was kicked by something much bigger and more powerful than he was. He was helpless and horny as fuck and enjoying it.

Perhaps because she’d decided to have mercy on him or just because her dance had ended, she hopped off the stage and stalked towards him like she was a hungry beast and he her latest game that she could wait to tear into.

“Please, Ma’am,” the honorific slipped out without him meaning to. “I need…please,” he begged, his voice shaky as he struggled to articulate what it was that he needed. He let out little mewls of desperation as he struggled to form words that weren’t ‘please or Ma’am’.

She bit down on her lip and tilted her head as she considered him. “Aww baby, it’s alright.”

“P-please,” he muttered, his worldly coming out airy.

She palmed him through his jeans and stroked him, her eyes twinkling as she regarded him in his struggle. His breaths grew fast with just the first touch. He pleaded repeatedly, calling her every sweet name in the dictionary- in two dictionaries of two languages, but she didn’t seem to want to free him. She was enjoying his helplessness too much.

She laughed and bent at the waist to look him eye-to-eye, “I got you so hard just dancing for you huh, Javier?”

He was no longer in control of any part of his body. It was all hers from the hairs on his head to the tips of his toes. They all danced to her beat, worshiped at her altar, awaited her command with bated breath and followed her to his own destruction. His lips, now hers, begged “Y-yes Ma’am. I w-want— please! Want to touch you. Tan bonita... Quiero que tú… Por favor, patróna—”

“You want to touch me?” She asked, raising a cruel eyebrow at him. “Really? What makes you think you deserve that, baby? What have you done to deserve me?”

“I’ll do anything. Anyth— any— fuck!” He whimpered as the world disappeared around him, leaving only a hazy vision of her leaning in front of him, her hand around him. He felt his underwear get wet from his embarrassingly quick release as he muttered a curse in regret.

She tipped his head back and pressed her lips to his, their tongues dancing around each other and their lips taking in as much as they could of the other. The few days of separation had really gotten to him and he was pleased to know that he wasn’t alone with the way she pushed for more from their kiss.

“‘M so sorry, baby. That was…I lasted longer as a teenager, believe me,” he explained himself, wanting to hide himself away yet willing to show her all of him. All his embarrassment and sexual failures and his genuine feeling of regret over the way he ended the night.

She laughed softly, not in mockery but with her love. He could always feel her love.

“It’s okay, mi amor. Nothing to apologize for. You’ve made me cum with less, I swear,” she said, draping herself across his lap and cradling his face in her hand. She kissed him on the cheek and then the other and then his forehead. “Happy birthday, Javi.”

He smiled, no grinned, at her as he felt his heart fill up with gratitude for her. “I can’t believe you came back from stateside just for this.”

“About that…” she trailed, her index finger reaching out and playing with his mustache. “I never left.”

“What!?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“You’ve been gone for three days!”

“I was at my friend’s.”

“Your parents called and said you reached home safely!” He exclaimed. How deep was this plot!? Who were all in on it? And what kind of a fool was he to not notice a thing. He should’ve asked her parents to give her the phone! He should’ve checked and caught them in the lie.

“I asked them—”

“You asked them to lie for you to give me a sex present for my birthday?”

“Nooo! Well, not like that! I didn’t call them and ask them to lie to you because I wanted to give you a fucking pole dance- strip show thing for your birthday. I just made something up. My god, Javi!” She huffed, shoving at his chest lightly.

“Wait! And Steve. FUCKIN STEVE! What did you tell HIM?”

“Don’t worry, your dignity is safe with me. Didn’t tell him I was gonna restrain you and make you call me Ma’am and oh, what else was it? Patróna?” She teased, smiling as she played with his hair.

“Si, Patróna,” he retorted right back, making her smile transform into a gasp and her eyes turn wide.

“Shut up,” she mumbled as she got off his lap and reached behind him. She uncuffed him and he was immediately upon her. She yelped as he pulled her into his lap, giggling as he pressed kisses all over her face.

“Javi, stooop!” She whined but leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Gonna take you back home, baby. Need to do this right,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Oh? Do it right? You gonna hold me down and fuck me hard, Agente Peña?” She asked as he took his leather jacket off of himself. Finding her clothes would take too much time and he was not willing to spend his previous time with her after being deceived into separation.

“Pfft, no! You, my darling wife, are going to hold me down and take what you want,” he declared, excited to lean back and let her do the work for that night. And perhaps other nights when he needed her to take over and take guide him though it. It wasn’t something he thought he would like, but with her, every day was a surprise and he discovered new things about himself even after so many years alive.

Wrapped up in his jacket, she let him carry her to his jeep and he drove her home, a happy and grateful man.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

Read more of my Javier Peña fics here

#javier peña #javier pena fic #javier peña fluff #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier peña x reader #javier peña x ofc #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena fluff #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #married javier peña #husband!javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #warning: bad spanish

[catch1ngmoths]

Alex w s/o has stretch marks and they’re insecure of it? </3 I have them NSJSJANISJS my mom would point them out at me you don’t have to do it pookie bear ‼️‼️ don’t forgor to drink water and don’t starve yourself or stress yourself!! MWAH LIVE YOU POOKIE BEAR ‼️‼️💋

˚₊‧⁺⋆♱ Tiger stripes ˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

Summary: you have have stretch marks and are quite insecure about them; on the contrary, it's one of Alex's favorite physical features about you!

Note: MY BAE! MY BAE! MY BAE!! @billkaulitzsrealgf always makes me giggle and kick my feet fr, I LOVE YOUU🙏 I also have stretch marks on my inner thighs, AND my mom also points them out so I UNDERSTANDDD!! anyways, enjoy :3

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. ⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. ⋆｡‧₊°

The first time he noticed them, he stared for a good while. Enough for you to notice. You started to get nervous, thinking he was staring at them in disgust.

When he noticed how uncomfortable and anxious you looked, he immediately felt bad. he looked up at you and smiled softly, “your stretch marks are beautiful cariño.” Alex says softly

You don’t believe him, thinking he’s just saying that because he caught onto your insecurity. “You don’t have to lie Lex, I know they’re not the most flattering..” you say with a nervous smile

He looks exasperated as you say this, looking at you with his mouth slightly parted. “No no! I actually really love them! They’re hot” he says with a playful and dramatic wink.

You laugh and hit his shoulder, making him laugh more. Ever since that day, he always lays where your stretch marks are. If they’re on your thighs, he lays on your thighs. If they’re on your stomach, he lays on your stomach and exc.

When you’re feeling extra insecure, he’ll trace them with his fingers, even littering little kisses on them. When y’all are getting intimate, he’ll kiss them while kissing down your body RAGHHH (⊙_⊙)

He loves tracing them with his fingers while yall are cuddling and shit, like just running his fingers down them in awe. HE LOVES THE WAY THEY FEEL!!

He just loves you so much, he really doesn’t give a fuck how you look or what features you have. He just loves you and thinks anything you hate about yourself or are insecure of makes you even more unique.

If anyone points them out, in a negative way he won’t hesitate to make them shut the hell up. People can insult him all they want but the moment someone insults YOU?? His beloved? Nah he’s pissed

He’d embarrass the FUCK outta the person that insulted you. And the thing is, he wouldn’t even feel bad! He wouldn’t insult the others persons appearance or anything because he doesn’t believe in that kinda stuff but he’d make them wish they just shut their lips

He’d say something like, “are you actually okay? Like genuinely. What makes you think you were cool for pointing that out like it’s a discusting thing? Funny how nobody’s laughing” he’d say, straight faced. THE OTHER PERSONS COOKED

If multiple people online tweet something like that out he’d probably address it on stream, saying something like:

“I wanna just say something before we start stream. People have been commenting on my s/o’s physical appearance and that’s something I’m not gonna tolerate. They’re such an amazing and supportive person. I’m not and will never be okay with that and I wanna make myself really clear when I say that.”

He’d genuinely do anything for you, not really caring what other people think or say because at the end of the day he loves you and that’s all that matters in his eyes!! Bbg loves you SO MUCH!

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. ⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. ⋆｡‧₊°

#quackity #quackity x reader #qsmp #alex quackity #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackityhq #alex quackity x reader #billkaulitzsrealgf my cutie patootie

[vtoriacore]

✧ all eyes on you

note: this gotta be my fave vil piece ive ever written god damn i think this is me at my peak with writing. ill never write so well again and that sucks 💀 this is like 2.4k words and i swear half of it is vils outfit description /j someone also tell me why this is becoming a vil cantered blog LMAO

warning: slightly suggestive? bit of kissing at the end but nothing explicit! some jealousy that could be interpreted as slightly yandere/toxic but not really. gn!reader

synopsis: i cannot be bothered coming up with something elaborate after writing this. -> you're in a club. you dance w a random person. vil sees you. lights camera action bestie, the stage is yours to share and exit to the very end.

reblogs much appreciated, mwah 💞💓

He's already had too much Hennessy, he knew it. But looking at you through his translucent, violet sun glasses (perfectly matching his alluring eyes) he couldn't help but want to drink you in even more. It was no surprise you were here, in the same damn exclusive club as him, dancing with some nobody - no chemistry, no feelings attached.

He gripped the glass tighter, sharp lavender nails digging into his palm enough to leave marks. The sight was nothing short of infuriating, and he wanted to do nothing more but to rip you away from the leech vying for your attention when it should only be on him. Slamming the drink onto the table with a low growl, he stood up, all eyes immediately on him.

And why wouldn't they be? As always, he was the best dressed on the scene - the rich lilac, laced, mini slip-dress perfectly hugging his curves and off shoulder matching bolero cardigan accentuating his clavicles. And with every click of his six inch plum coloured t-strap d'orsay platforms (perfectly matching the beat of the current song) he grew more and more aware of the irony of the scene; virtually everyone was admiring his form, none of whom he would spare a single glance, but you.

Golden, diamond shaped earrings jangling as he walked (something he found rather irritating the more he focused on it), Vil tucked his purse closer to his side with a nonchalant flip of his platinum blonde locks. Normally, he'd feel very confident with his stature and mannerisms, but the way you still haven't graced him with even a single look, he felt it diminish. Oh, how he hated, down-right despised the effect you had on him! What right did you, so insignificant- ah no, that'd be too harsh considering he only ever silently sought out your approval and affection, but he'd digress. What right did you have making him feel this worthless, when he has never looked better? Never felt better?

The première of this new movie, Vil being the lead protagonist, was supposed to be the best fucking night of his life! He'd already strolled the red carpet as if he owned the event, knowing damn well it wasn't the truth because even then he was only seeking your eyes and finding them to be on anything but him. How could you disregard him so coldly, even now as he was approaching your form, more restless than ever?

"[Name], fancy seeing you here of all places," voice levelled, Vil addressed you directly; he wanted you to feel nervous under his gaze once you turned, it's what you deserve after causing him this much distress when it was supposed to be his big night. His official debut into the world of heroism.

"Ah, Schoenheit. Of course you'd run into me," he absolutely hated your wording, you were making him seem desparate - and although he was, you had no right even alluding to such thing!

"Disregarding that, it's quite rude not facing someone when they're speaking to you," he felt his nerves almost snap, seeing you turn around only to grace him with a teasing smirk, head tilted and eyes full of recognition.

"What, you miss me checking you out?" you licked your bottom lip, and it drove him almost as insane as your biting remark.

"I have the whole world focused on me, the last thing I'd need is you 'checking' me out," he rolled his eyes, shimmery gold eyeshadow accentuating the gesture.

"And here I thought we'd finally get some privacy so I could admire you," you laughed, and it brought him great satisfaction seeing the person behind you narrow their eyes in discontent. Without so much as a word, they slinked away with a small click of their tongue, something Vil would comment on in a later interview just out of spite. Was it petty? Maybe, but no one disrespects him and gets away with it - especially if they dare affiliate themselves with you.

"Is that what you were hoping for?" Vil raised a perfectly done eyebrow, crossing his arms in the process. He loved the way your eyes momentarily travelled to his chest before meeting his again.

"Sure, we can go with that if it soothes your ego," you looked to the left, observing the crowd watching the interaction with great interest before narrowing your eyes at the person who walked away from you. It irked him that you cared enough about that leech to even remember dancing with them, but your annoyance at them made it worth it - it was a sign you wouldn't seek them out at the very least!

"Interesting you'd say that, seeing your own just got shattered by . . . who was that again? One of the background characters who couldn't act to save their own life?" he knew his perfect, award winning smile would irritate you as always - it was both a great pleasure and a disdain seeing you vexxed by the accusation.

"You're the one who interrupted me, you know," you placed a hand on your hip, staring Vil down (well, up), and his eyes couldn't help but rake over the upper half of your body. He knew it was probably the alcohol doing most of the thinking, but coupled with the ultraviolet lighting , he just couldn't help but wonder how good you'd feel against him in that moment - away from prying eyes of course.

"I did you a favour dear, I assume you've seen them seizing up our director just then?" you merely shrugged at the assertion, instead focusing on your perfectly done nails.

"Yeah I figured they'd try him next, anything for the headlines speculating who they're fucking, no?" you smiled once you finished your unnecessary examination, looking at Vil once more. He couldn't help but let out a low chuckle at the accusation, so genuine it turned a few heads your direction once more. And oh did Vil absolutely relish the envious stares directed your way, knowing damn well none of them could take your place.

"Very bold statement, you do know it's going to make the news and affect my own reputation?" he leaned in, whispering directly into your ear and yet all you could focus on was the gold rimmed necklace with the initials of your first and last name. Once he pulled away, Vil simply smiled - the way you suddenly flushed up made him somewhat giddy. There was no way in hell you'd even direct your gaze on anything other than him for the rest of the night, and the countless rumours of this encounter coupled with the accessory were certainly going to keep you up at night.

"W-well . . . With what you're pulling right now, I could really say the same," he found your aggrevated stutter endearing, simply shrugging as if unaffected by anything you do when the contrary applied.

"You're acting as if it isn't going to be good publicity, with your role as the lead romantic interest, this could be good for both of us," Vil knew you couldn't disagree with this, watching as for once you tried coming up with something to dspute the statement, to no avail.

"Whatever, I've had too much to drink to deal with this," you sighed out, beginning to walk away from him. This of course, wouldn't do - you were once again making him seem as if he were the one that should be following after you.

"Right, goodnight [Name]," he nodded at your back, beginning to turn around only to stop short once he noticed you turn your head, eyes brimming with confusion; it was perfect, you didn't expect a single thing and fell straight for the bait!

" . . . Oh," you furrowed your eyebrows, so softly no one but him would catch on. He was so used to seeing and observing you that by now, Vil had perfectly memorised each and every one of your gestures and mannerisms. This, although something he prided himself on as he was quite perceptive, was simply maddening. His hyper-awareness of having you on his mind too much and for way too long didn't help this fact either.

"What is it?" he was going to get a straightforward answer from you for a change, and he realised you knew it from the little twitch of your lips. You certainly weren't an easy read, to the outsiders of course.

"Well, I just thought . . ." you were reluctant to voice your thoughts, coaxing him into softening his features as silent encouragement - something you picked up on after a few brief seconds.

"I just thought you might want to come somewhere more quiet, with me" you almost whispered, no doubt letting the alcohol affect some of your judgement. Under normal circumstances, Vil knew you'd probably make more sassy remarks but this? You weren't even attempting to make your tone seem insincere, face devoid of your usual show of defiance to anything he does. Such simple action, and yet it had his pulse quicken by too much of a large margin to be considered a normal reaction.

"On second thought, that seems like the perfect remedy for my oncoming headache," he let a faux smile overtake his face, walking closer and closer up to you, until your arms were brushing against each other. To anyone else, it'd simply seem as though the club was too full, but you both knew the intimacy that came with the action - Vil found it unnerving, just how warm it made his face feel when he's already kissed you countless times, both in practice and for the official filming of the scenes. But he did suppose this was something done out of one's volition, so who could realistically fault him for feeling this way?

"You know, absolutely no one uses the corner booths, even though they're all secluded from the main body of the building and perfect to hide away," you spoke up, rather shyly for someone of your disposition, but Vil found it absolutely delightful. Everything he'd done in an effort to get you to himself was finally paying off.

"Well, this is a club for a reason. Most people don't come here to sit around," he purposefully brushed his fingers against yours, the cold, no doubt expensive jewelled rings causing goosebumps to erupt all over your arm.

"Hah, surely they get tired at some point," you playfully rolled your eyes as the both of you walked through a dark archway, music slowly fading to a pleasant, muted buzz.

"Alcohol seems to have the opposite effect it's supposed to when you're clubbing, you'll come to learn soon enough," Vil flashed you a smirk, his cherry red lips catching your attention momentarily before you glanced away. He wondered if he should be happy at your sudden change of personality- was this the real you or just another elaborate show? Either way, he loved it.

"Are you implying something there, Schoenheit?" your teasing, accusatory remark made him click his tongue in a faux display of displeasure before he replied with his own, "Must you analyse every one of my statements?"

"It's not my fault they're usually loaded," your genuine giggle almost made him break the façade.

"How flattering you think me this complex," your smile dropped at that before you turned to fully face Vil, almost catching him off guard as he stopped to mirrror your action with intrigue painting his lilac irises.

"You are," barely two words and he could feel his breath hitch - and the worst part, he didn't even know why! Was it the lack of people around that made this moment feel so intimate? Or was it the courtesy of the dim room with its scarlet lighting making it seem like some romantic scene from a movie?

"You know . . . I still don't understand," you started to speak, voice low yet sincere. He felt himself drawing in a breath but before he could ask anything you spoke up yet again, "Am I overthinking it . . . ?"

"Overthinking what?" it was a miracle he could even speak clearly with how intently you were observing him. He knew he looked perfect, but with your gaze boring so deeply into him, he felt like you could see every flaw - he can't recall a time he felt so vulnerable.

"Ah . . . Nevermind. Ignore me, I wasn't thinking straight," your sudden shake of the head popped the bubble of tension you both felt. Vil felt his eyebrows furrow, a slight pout forming on his face.

"No. You will tell me," he asserted with a hardened resolve, coming ever closer to you as you backed up; his step forward, your step back. Rinse and repeat. Yet when your back had finally hit the ebony wall, you averted your gaze instead of saying anything.

"[Name], I'm serious, don't make me pry it out a different method," Vil leaned in closer to you, grabbing your chin gently to make you look right at him. He'd be damned if he let you slip away now, just when you were about to reveal everything.

"Are you serious, though?" your disappointed gaze had his heart momentarily shatter and before his emotions got the better of him, you once again murmured before he could even breathe, "about me . . .?"

His lips parted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt speechless. Was there even a way for him to convey just how serious he was about you using words, using actions, using feelings alone? Vil could physically feel the pressure of the tension pushing down onto him, and his grip on you loosened.

"I-I see," you closed your eyes in defeat at the silence, and in that very moment he hated himself more than ever.

"I am. Believe me, I am so very serious, so very sure about you. Forgive my silence, I didn't expect to . . . " he trailed off, not thinking straight when you graced him with the sight of your brilliant eyes once more. The surprised flush of your cheeks made him feel slightly nervous; his feelings were out in the open, but would you reciprocate?

He didn't need to ponder the question too long, for in the next moment and without any hesitation, you were pulling him flush against you in an effort to connect your lips. He found himself tilting his head, slipping his sunglasses off with one hand before abandoning them and his purse both on the ground. It didn't matter they were both expensive and about to be ruined, not when the price of your feelings would be too disrespectful to compare to some lousy materialistic items he could replace later.

His hands found purchase on your waist, gently caressing the curvature in an effort to memorise every inch; the way you leaned into him more had him ignoring his burning lungs as they cried out for oxygen. With the way you felt against him, Vil only wanted to breathe you in; everything else be damned. He couldn't deny the disappointment when you had pulled away, but the sight of your burning face and lidded eyes made it worth breaking away anyway.

"I- . . . Damn, I'm sorry," your sudden nervous laugh caused a small smile to rise up on his own flushed face.

"You will be. No one gets away smudging my lipstick darling," you relaxed into Vil's arms at the remark, and he absolutely relished in the bliss of your content gaze and serene demeanor.

"And how do I pay back, hm?" you regained your confidence, but found it quickly simmer down once he spoke again, "Let me smudge yours even more."

You didn't hesitate to pull him back in for a second.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil #twst reader insert #im so normal about this man i swear please believe me #no delusions #anyways moving onto writing some rook stuff next there isn't enough content for that man

[milaisreading]

Hello! It’s my first time ever requesting in tumblr and i really really love your works! I was wondering if you could do a scenario about manager who’s bad at playing soccer and players ( u-20/BLLK/neo-egoist…) got into argument about who will teach her xd

Author: Hello! Happy to hear that I am your first request and I hope you like this! Thank you for the support and have a great day🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Come on, (Y/n)! It will be fun!" Bachira urged the girl, who simply shook her head, looking at the football he was holding in disgust, then nervously laughed.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea..."

"Why? Come on, we will go easy on you!" Isagi said, wanting to play football with her. It was a relatively peaceful day at Blue Lock anyways, aside from Kaiser pissing Isagi and Rin off, it was peaceful.

"That's not a good idea because..." (Y/n) gulped, a little embarrassed to admit she was downright horrendous at the sport.

'They will probably make fun of me for it!'

"Come on! Just relax for the day." Kunigami and Chigiri urged. (Y/n) looked around the place nervously, trying to find some saving grace. Most of the Blue Lock members were in their room, using today as a rest day. The ones who were here: Isagi, Kunigami, Bachira, Chigiri, Reo and Nagi were essentially trying to get her to play with them. Rin was out with his brother somewhere, while Kaiser and Ness were with their team, so there was nobody she could use as a scapegoat... well, except...

'Fuck my life!' She cringed and looked over at the U-20 captain.

"Aiku said he might need my help with... something! What was it again?!"

Oliver looked at the girl, startled that she even addressed him. The others were in disbelief too, knowing that (Y/n) didn't have the best of relationship with him, but she was now looking at him like he hung up the moon.

"What dream is this?" Bachira muttered and pinched his cheeks.

Oliver watched with a raised eyebrow as she escaped Nagi's grip and ran to him.

"So... ready for me to help you with that... thing?" (Y/n) asked the dumbfounded captain, who recovered pretty fast and nodded his head.

"Of course, come on."

Oliver smiled and pulled (Y/n) along, sending the group a smirk as they were glaring at him.

Once gone, Bachira kicked the ball in rage and grinned at the door.

"When did he get so close to (Y/n)? Didn't we keep him away from her?"

"Apparently not good enough... Why my dear (Y/n), why pick that hobo over me?" Reo sobbed as Nagi cracked his knuckles.

"We should have beat him up instead of playing bowling." The albino said.

"Maybe... maybe (Y/n) would rather play football with him instead of us..." Isagi whispered, hurt and panic lacing his tone.

"What?! This is a tragedy, I am way better than that womanizer freak! Why?!" Chigiri cried out.

"You all... do you think that (Y/n) might have a thing for Aiku? I mean... did you see the way she looked at him?" Nagi questioned, causing everyone to look at him in horror.

"Nonono... she hates him. I am sure we just saw shit." Kunigami protested the idea, there is no way their sweet manager would like him.

"Well... you know what they say... the line between love and hate is thin." Isagi gulped, causing silence to fall on the group.

"Why are you guys so down?" Rin raised his eyebrow as him and Sae approached the panicked group.

"(Y/n) wants to marry Aiku and play football with him!" Bachira yelled, causing Sae to spit out his drink.

"The hell are you guys talking about?! Why would (Y/n) want to play with a lukewarm hobo?" Rin asked, already getting agitated.

"We tried to get her to play football with us, and she picked Aiku." Reo answered solemnly.

"You all are dumb, for 2 reasons. One that you think lukewarms such as yourselves are worthy of asking (Y/n) that." Rin started, ignoring the glares he received from his teammates, and then continued.

"And 2nd for believing (Y/n) would like Aiku."

"You didn't see the way she looked at him." Kunigami said.

"What do you mean by that?" Sae spoke up, already pissed at his teammate.

"She looked like he hung up the moon and stars... like he is a God or something." Chigiri explained.

'That little piece of shit!' Sae and Rin thought.

While the group was plotting Oliver's death, the captain himself was over the moon as he talked about thr various places he visited in Italy. (Y/n) would chime in with a question here and there, finding him surprisingly pleasant to talk to... well unless he tried to flirt. They were now in the training area designated for the U-20 team, with (Y/n) doing some check-ups on equipment.

"Say, why did you pick to hang out with me?" Oliver suddenly asked, causing (Y/n) to look away from her clipboard and at him.

"Oh... I'm... no reason!" She said as Oliver got up and moved closer to the girl.

"I don't believe you. Now tell me what it is about, Cutie?"

'Kill me, what are these nicknames?!' (Y/n) cringed and contemplated on if she should tell him or not.

"I am very much open and transparent with you, shouldn't you be the same? Seems only fair." Oliver said, leaning down.

"Rin, don't start a fight no- did you just bite me?!" Isagi flinched as him and Kunigami held back the two brothers from starting a fight. Nagi sighed and opened the door to the U-20 training hall, only to choke on his spit at the scene he was seeing.

"That piece of shit..."

"What is it?" Reo raised his eyebrow and peeked inside too, only to shriek away right after.

"What?" Chigiri and Bachira asked.

"Aiku is trying to kiss (Y/n)!" Reo exclaimed as the others froze for a moment.

"Nevermind about peace, I am beating him up first." Kunigami said, letting go of a seething Sae.

"No way, I will!" Bachira added, grinning maniacally as Nagi and Reo walked into the room, ready to pull their manager away.

"Ah... I just don't know how to play football... and I was too embarrassed to admit it." Nagi and Reo stopped in their tracks and looked at each other.

"Sorry for using you like this! I was just embarrassed to say anything... it sounds rediculous."

Oliver hummed and nodded his head, then put his arm around her shoulders and grinned.

"Then I will teach you the basics. What better way than to learn it from a captain-"

"Hold it! You are not teaching anyone anything!" Reo yelled, pulling (Y/n) away from Oliver and glared up at him.

"What are you guys doing here?!" (Y/n) asked, horrified that Reo and Nagi heard her.

"We came to get you! Don't listen to anything he tells you!" Reo said and pointed at the offended boy.

"Yeah, we can teach you how to play." Nagi yawned, sending a glare to Oliver.

"We? You mean me! I am the best ranked one in Blue Lock." Rin chimed in.

"Cut the crap! I can do a way better job!" Bachira said as he smiled at (Y/n).

"I am the fastest and most patient one of you all. Please, I will do that." Chigiri said calmly, earning an eyeroll from Isagi.

"Not as patient as I am."

'Good God... over football of all things.' (Y/n) groaned as she watched the group argue.

"Come on, let's do something else. Ego-san will hear the commotion soon." Reo whispered to (Y/n) and pulled her out of the training room, Nagi following them close behind, satisfied that the girl was away from Oliver, who was getting scolded by Sae and Rin.

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #chigiri hyoma #blue lock requests #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #itoshi brothers #oliver aiku #blue lock kunigami #manager reader

[cybertron-after-dark]

More questionable tfa headcanons

-Bumblebee and Bulkhead do impressions of Optimus behind his back. Bulkhead actually feels kinda bad about it but that does not stop him. Prowl is not immune to joining in. OP still hasn't caught them.

-Optimus really wants to adopt a dog once he's positive he could adequately take care of one. He loves the idea of keeping a big grey one and naming him Silverbolt, after Silverbolt Major from the great war. It just feels right.

-Starscream will never admit to listening to the dumb sound patterns humans call music, but in private he's a swiftie, and he WILL sing shake it off if nobody's watching.

-Lugnut bakes in his off time, and he keeps trying to spoil Megatron with little treats, as his grand and glorious master deserves little gifts and tributes whenever Lugnut can give them. Sadly, Megatron doesn't actually have much of a sweet tooth so most of Lugnut's edible gifts get passed off to someone else.

-you know that bit in the Allspark almanac where Lugnut is bitching about earth sports and the Tigatron stadium? He has such strong feelings because Blitzwing loves that shit and keeps trying to rope Lugnut into playing. For Blitzwing, it reminds him of his gladiator days, it's a way to have fun and reminisce without killing someone. For Lugnut, it can't compare, it's kinda just a watered down, wussified version of real gladiatorial combat.

-upon discovering ytps, both bumblebee and bulkhead trained their voice synthesizers to be able to mimic the edited sounds. Sometimes they'll use it in the middle of a fight as a sort of secret code so the cons can't pick up on what they're planning to counter it. Optimus has mixed feelings. He doesn't understand what the hell they're saying like 90% of the time, and he recognizes this isn't proper military strategy, but he can't argue with the results. At least they're sort of taking the fights seriously?

-Blitzwing and Blackarachnia fucking hate each other but Megatron frowns upon infighting, so instead of constant violence, they've sort of settled on an escalating cold war of inconveniences and irritants. Neither of them can throw a punch, or set anything up that would result in actual injury, but immobilizing via ice or webs is fine, provided it doesn't affect tactical matters. Blitzwing constantly freezes the locks on BA's door, BA spikes Blitzwing's energon with cyber venom, pretty much anything that could qualify as day ruining. The worst was when Blitzwing covered BA with electronic paint and turned her into a walking rainbow all day.

-prowl wants to volunteer at animal shelters but he's a bit too big to fit in most of the buildings

-both shockwave and starscream are horrible liars but Megatron is terrible at picking up when someone's lying, so starscream's scheming went unnoticed for years and shockwave was sent in as a spy with full confidence that he wouldn't blow his cover.

-ratchet and optimus have been teaching Sari bits of cybertronian. Optimus teaches her the more formal aspects of the language, given there's a high chance she'll be interacting with Ultra Magnus, the guilds domesticus, and other high ranking autobots that warrant a more formal address. Ratchet (Mr "don't call me sir, I work for a living") teaches her more day to day, informal cybertronian. And swears. He teaches her pretty much all the swears.

-when Sari moved in, Optimus learned to cook so she wouldn't have to live off fast food from the burger bot. Which was hell for the big guy because why in primus's name is human fuel so complicated? He used to think sugar was pretty much an energon equivalent, cut and dry. He was wrong. He was so wrong. OP usually has Sari help him out because he cant exactly taste it to make sure it's, you know, actually edible.

-Prowl loves animals and the natural parts of earth with all his spark, but man are some parts of it brutal. When he learned what a parasitoid wasp was he couldn't sleep for days.

-bulkhead actually wants to go to a human art college once the war's over. Maybe not full time but he definitely wants to pick up some classes and learn what he can. Once he gets good enough, he wants to bring that knowledge back to Cybertron and see what other bots do with it.

-Optimus has a collection of skeezy romance novels. The equivalent on Cybertron is kind of an obscure rarity, only really sold in the seediest of places, so he couldn't really believe how easy it was to find smut like that on Earth. The intrinsic human fleshiness of the book characters always weirds him out just a bit, but not enough to ruin it for him. It's not really the pornographic aspect he's interested in, after all, it's the romantic aspect. He keeps his digital stash double encrypted in his datatrax, because he knows if anyone found it (cough cough bumblebee cough) he'd never hear the end of it.

-giving Blitzwing internet access was a mistake. Now he knows what memes are and random has been making that every other decepticon's problem since he found out. Megatron has to constantly guess whether what would normally be a standard Blitzwing non sequitur is actually a setup for Megatron to get laughed at by the entire human internet. He's fallen for updog, he's fallen for Ligma, he will NOT be caught slipping again.

-while he was undercover, once a week, shockwave would call Megatron and complain over a few barrels of oil about what kind of stupid slag his pompous idiot crankshaft coworkers would pull. One of the few autobot names Megatron could remember was Sentinel Prime, solely from the long list of transgressions Shockwave has drunkenly recounted.

-Soundwave hates most humans but he's decided that a few specific bands whose music he likes will be spared when the revolution comes, inferior as they may be.

-Prowl sends jazz earth music sometimes. It's pretty much blown Jazz's mind because most of the music on Cybertron is propaganda songs. He's not really used to songs about things other than war heroes, or even songs with no words at all. Just music for its own sake.

-Sentinel Prime's only friend is Cliffjumper and Cliffjumper only hangs out with him for brown nosing sycophantic reasons, not because he actually likes the guy.

-Ultra Magnus knows he's a corrupt bastard. He doesn't lose sleep over it, as long as his public image is good.

#tfa #transformers animated #optimus prime #bumblebee #bulkhead #ratchet #prowl #sari #Megatron #starscream #blitzwing #lugnut #shockwave #blackarachnia #sentinel prime #ultra magnus #maccadam

[chokchokk]

2/2

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 [𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬] | choi san x fem!reader

PART THREE of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser 

“Be mine tonight, Y/N.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: The hour is twisted. You’re not at a club, you’re not sober, but most importantly, you’re not with him. Will Seonghwa do? No, of course not.

But he leaves you no other chance.

“You’re so pathetic, it might actually be worth a try.”

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: angst, smut

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 2nd half of PART THREE

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 13.3k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): drug-use, drug abuse, alcohol, mdma (ecstasy, molly), vulgar language, just a lot of vulgarities and profanity, hate-fuck?, aggressive, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, sex with feelings but no love, sex with no respect, cumming inside; reader cant stop thinking about san, writer is a bit stoic, seonghwa is a hot bitch, hwa and writer are liars lmao

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: the border looks that ugly on purpose btw not that you think otherwise LMAO

on ao3, this chapter is called “insanity” and i can’t promise it will be the only seonghwa-centred part throughout the series, but do please enjoy for the filth and angst of it all hehe!! <33 if you're asking “does san even make an appearance here?” i won’t tell you :P i know it's intimidating since there's just about like 10k build-up (because i'm a bitch LMAO) so if u wanna skip just find the second border i guessssssss

also, i really recommend listening to KLOUD's ESCAPE HALLOWEEN set (it's a soundcloud link) or any other hard tekno for the whole immersive experience lmao !!! <33

and also, thank you all very much for 100 followers and over 1000 notes ! ! ! wtf it's all happening so fast i can't catch up with yall....

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @brown88 : @svintsandghosts: @hanniebeesworld : @downbadreading : @shingsoluvely (kissing all of yall <33)

Didn’t Seonghwa say “club” or are you being some conservative narc flaking out?

You’re standing in front of a white, slightly burnt industrial building that is barely holding on by itself, and taking into account how many people are smoking around here, the likeliness that it will catch on fire again is not too low. You can’t believe that you’re going to meet Seonghwa inside here, let alone San, let alone anyone with a healthy sense for flight or fight, but here you are, walking up to the line with confident steps.

Yes, it has made you very anxious that even the taxi-driver had no idea where he was heading. He promised to drive you back home if anything happened, so the taxi-hotline is on speed-dial— just in case— and you just thought, holy fuck, hopefully Seonghwa won't leave me alone here.

But once you’d seen the seemingly endless line of people, you knew you have arrived at the right place. Or at least something like the right place. It all seems off, this building in the middle of nowhere outside the city, but you told the driver the vague address and he found you this hidden ware- and clubhouse, both of you hesitating to confirm that this was the correct location.

Nothing here seems legal, smells legal, looks legal— oh well.

The only thing you can say with certainty is is that you are looking and smelling the best you have ever looked and smelled this entire semester, and even if you have no fucking clue who these people that are whistling at you are, you know you’ve done everything right tonight when they wave at you to join them. You just skipped a whole chunk of the line here, but nobody seems to mind it. What a democratic party, maybe it’s not all that foul play and people do appreciate good things, eh?

It’s not an exaggeration or empty self-boast: You, in your skin-tight, revealing black body-con dress, skin glowing under the harsh night-light, are absolutely ravishing. There are looks on you— uncountably many of them, and usually, you’d fold under their heavy gaze, but having taken a few shots of the cheap rum back at home, you reciprocate their curious eyes with a sleek, cheeky smile, down-right inviting them to bathe in your appearance.

While the group of people take in the presence of you, blurting out their first thoughts immediately upon thinking, your confidence only grows bigger. Thank god drunk people say the truth, because “damn, she’s hot” is the ego-boost you needed to face whatever awaits you in that cubic building.

“ARE YOU FUCKING READY?”, booms out of it and it seems like a voice sample that’s been altered that hellishly deep. The crowd outside cheers. They're not even a part of the shenanigans yet, but still, they’re screaming and already moving their body in anticipation, throwing funny looking candy (you’re very sure that’s molly) inside their mouths. They’re ready, but Y/N, are you? It is an honest question to ask yourself, and as you inhale the smell of people smoking the devil’s lettuce around you, you draw out how the night might progress for them.

You don’t know about San’s whereabouts, only that Seonghwa and him are going separately, which is a big plus if you want to fuck him today.

Uh-huh. Fuck Seonghwa. You’ve made it up in your mind because he just wouldn’t stop hinting at it in the car this morning. He is going to buy you drinks, going to show you his dancing, but most importantly, going to “make you enjoy yourself”, which of course, could just be wishful thinking from you iterating the conversation, but Seonghwa wouldn’t have bought the tickets for you for free if he wasn’t expecting some type of reward, would he?

At the minimum, the hinting painfully reminded you of the way you talked to San the very first days you first insinuated that he could stay over at your house and — oh, golly! — sleep there. Coming to think of it, your talk actually never worked, and it still ended up being San who made the first sexual move. You’re going to save Seonghwa from this embarrassment, and if not, you’re going to save yourself from your own embarrassment for if you do see San and his volleyball-“date” or whatever here.

Anyhow, at the maximum, you have a brain and are fully aware of the fact that people don’t “meet” at the club to just have a chat, whether it's him or San. People “meet” at the club to get crazy and fuck, and that’s exactly what you’re doing with Seonghwa — End of story. San is not going to write this chapter today. He won’t even end up in the epilogue, that’s how much you’re going to focus on Seonghwa. Go down. Get him on. Get on with him.

You bop your head a little bit to the deep bass that’s vibrating through the walls of the warehouse and the line is taking a painfully long time to move forward. You watch the people in your group chug down their self-mixed abominations and how they're throwing the remaining glass on the floor, whiffing their stimulants through their joints or gulping it down by tablets. Letting out a huff to exhale the sharp smell of weed, you try to become as detached as the ones around you, at the very least assimilate to their mood. You’re going to be with these people tonight, and just by putting one and one together, you get the feeling that it will be a long, ruthless evening. You can hear intoxicated screams leave the front door, the deep voice continuing to hype up their cheers.

It's all a hivemind of pure madness and … well, you're here for it, it seems like, no? Seonghwa is not going to be an exception, and you brace yourself to be meeting your date here.

Show you his dancing, he said…

You don’t know whether the DJ playing some extraordinary remixes or whatever to be deserving this much of screaming feedback, but it’s definitely music to get your mind lost to, you'll give this guy Mingi that; Splurging, ear-numbing beats and basses, inviting you to rock your body. You don’t hate the music, not at all. It just makes you question how Seonghwa was imagining to impress you. Here you are imagining body-rolls or whatnot, but this hard style techno isn't really the tune for that, is it? Okay, let's just say it's not music you'd turn on to get yourself into the mood on a Saturday night, that's what's there to it.

It’s ironical, really. Usually around this time you’d be fumbling around your phone on your couch to ask San if he’s free or not, and sometimes he is, but most of the time he’s not. Those days where he just comes over on your mark have been over long time. Now, he’ll either show up at your house unprecedented or ask you to show up at his house in an ungodly hour.

Huh, isn’t that one funny butterfly effect. You woke up early because of San's mistress and here you are, lining up to become Seonghwa's. Is this right? "I heard you were going to be at Mingi’s party. Meet me there." Even now, you’re trying to convince yourself that this contact name “volleyball” could be anyone, maybe even just a friend that is trying to link up at this not-so party-looking party. Hm, you think, would a friend text him so intimidatingly? San hates periods to end messages, it scares him. So no, not a friend. At least not a friend that knows him as much as you do. Someone he had a fight with, maybe? No, Choi San doesn’t have fights, he’s too avoidant of conflict for that. It has got to be someone that has once been close to him and a bit too close to your liking.

No, no, fuck no, let’s stop this, you murmur to yourself and wriggle down your dress so it covers your ass at least.

Fucking Seonghwa. That’s your one and only mission tonight, of course followed by having fun and getting all hell loose.

It will just be one night and it will either make you 1) want to stay with San, or 2) finally move on and agree that San is just a … friend with too many benefits. You have to convince yourself you’re not in love with San. You can’t be in love with San. Disregarding of how curious you are in meeting him here.

“Ticket,” the control-man orders around the people in front of you and you get out your phone out of your tiny bag for the ticket, when you see that Seonghwa has already messaged you.

Seonghwa (San’s roomie): I’ll be waiting at the bar for you by the way Seonghwa (San’s roomie): You have to walk up the stairs on the left when you enter Seonghwa (San's roomie): Excited to see you ;)

You have been guessing already that something was going to break tonight, but it might as well be those stairs Seonghwa is talking about. From the amount of people that are still waiting behind you, you hope that they’re not all trying to go the bar.

“Ticket, please,” the control-man repeats, but strangely enough, his tone is a bit friendlier to you for some reason. “Here you go,” you duplicate his kindliness and he nods, dropping his smile as soon as he moves on to the next guess. Strange.

You eye the buff guy, but the impatient crowd pushes you into the square door. In you go.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP!”

Harsh red lights, laser and smoke hit your senses. (Though you can only be so sure that the last part is really planned for the show-experience.)

Maybe you underestimated the capabilities of a warehouse. It’s still not what you thought of when you heard "club", but it surely still gets your club-mind going. Ignoring the grimy looking walls that seem to crumble with every beat that’s drumming inside your ears, the pungent smell of cheap-ass perfume, artificial sweeteners and alcoholic beverages strike into your nose, blurring your sight for a short moment. There are no windows in this hell-hole, but that’s the concern for another hour.

This is only the beginning. So, let’s focus.

Left, stairs, go up, there’s the bar Seonghwa was messaging you about. It surprises you that you’re not being swarmed by more people trying to get drinks, but it makes sense, since so many of them have already drunk outside or taken other substances to get themselves prepared for the night. That’s the first thing.

Second thing; suprisingly, the stairs are actually kind of durable. You can physically feel the bass run through your veins as you grab the handrail, but maybe that’s just because of the cold metal. Nothing to worry about here, you exhale and make your way up.

Lastly, and most importantly, look at you, you’re smiling. That’s the biggest, best thing. The euphoria these people are screaming out is down-right infectious, isn’t it? Their daft, hypnotic cries are calling out to you on the dance floor, but you’re going to be there sooner or later, with the man that brought you here in the first place.

“Hey, Seonghwa.”

“Hey, Y/N, you—“

He was sitting on a barstool, admiring the flashing lights all throughout the warehouse through his sunglasses, when you put your hand on his barely clothed shoulder and make him turn around.

“Holy shit, Y/N.”

You grin. Of course Seonghwa wouldn’t disappoint with his reaction. He rips the sunglasses from his face immediately, gets up from his seat and embraces you with one arm, not daring to let one eye sway away from you, his tongue pushed to the surface of his mouth, as he suppresses his gleeful grin. He looks star-struck, the supernatural-looking lights surrounding him are only emphasising this sight. Otherworldly.

“Where have you been hiding that?”, he asks, commenting on your body as respectfully as he can. You know he can’t handle a lot of alcohol, so his marvel must be double the truth, right? Seonghwa isn’t a liar.

“I’ve not been hiding anything,” you scoff and Seonghwa laughs nervously.

“Y/N, you look… absolutely fantastic.”

“You don’t look to shabby yourself, Seonghwa,” you smile and muster the charcoal-haired man from bottom to top. It’s very out-of the ordinary, but honestly, you should have expected something like this after he invited you here. It goes without saying, you could have served him the same reaction to his outfit. The man who was wearing sportswear? He’s now wearing a black, nylon, baggy pant, with a distressed knitted top that barely serves as an excuse for clothing as it is not covering any of his body parts correctly— and even if you’d already gushed about his athletic figure this morning, you have not expected to be seeing Seonghwa’s abs and breast this exposed this early tonight. There is jewellery all around his outfit, just dangling from the fabric, but also his ear and hands, spiky and shiny, almost hazardous looking.

Damn, either you haven’t seen Seonghwa enough or this dude has been hiding more from you than you could account for. He looks as fashionable as much as he looks demonic, ready to sin with you, and that is the most meaningful compliment of the night.

“Thank you, I knew you’d like it.”

“Really? Me?”, you laugh, getting your hair out of your face, tugging it behind your ear.

“You have a strange taste,” Seonghwa smirks and while you puzzle together what he means, he signs something to the bartender with his ringed fingers.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m ordering us shots. Keeping my first promise.”

“With sign-language?”

Seonghwa smirks and sits down again, you following him to the same.

"I'm a friend of Mingi's, they know me around, that's all."

"Y'all are weird."

“That’s just our ways here.”

“Your ways? You sound like some pretentious club-kid,” you nag.

“What if I am, huh? Are you gonna leave, if I was?”, Seonghwa teases and is served a tray of four shots, coloured a dangerously unnatural purple colour. He slides a 10-dollar bill onto the counter and the bar-keeper takes it with no words spoken out loud, which gives Seonghwa the time to devote all his attention to you. It’s flattering how astounded he is by you, as if he hasn’t seen you pretty ever in his life. But then again, you can only do so much styling and make-up when San calls you at 10 PM, asking you to “hurry”.

“We’ll see how the night progresses,” you smirk, and grab the first shot. Seonghwa also takes one and slightly raises the small cup.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

Sweet — the taste of the shot.

All types of fruits and harsh, cheap liquour plunge into your mouth and melt on your tongue. It’s going to make your head hurt the next day, one hundred percent, but maybe it will be Seonghwa to get you some pills to soothe the ache.

… If he wasn’t San’s god-damned roommate.

Or he could stay at your home. It’s been a while since another man than him has slept in your bed, and maybe it’s long overdue.

“Let’s hurry up, I wanna dance with you,” you gulp down the sugary liquid and Seonghwa chuckles.

“We’ve got enough time, Y/N. Let’s savour this one together.”

Sweet — The spark in his eyes, his flawless skin, perfectly plump lips— holy fucking shit. Seonghwa is fucking breathtaking.

“Y/N?”, Seonghwa asks and you see that he’s already moved on to the second shot, waiting for you to move on.

“I didn’t know you had that kind of sexy stare in you,” your alcohol blurts out for you and in the meanwhile, you grab the next shot glass.

“Sexy stare?”, Seonghwa asks and grins.

“Screw you! You know what I’m talking about,” you hiss and show him your tongue to offend him, but Seonghwa just tilts his head, raising the glass to your face.

“Loveshot?”, he asks and for a moment, you don’t know whether he’s joking or not. Maybe you’re just feeling weird because a male has said the word “love” in your proximity. (The only man in your life who's a candidate in hearing that word avoids it like a disease.)

“Only if you mean it,” you purr seductively, lick your lips, and praise to fucking god he’s taking the hint. Seonghwa leans in and crosses your arms around, the cold rim of his drink suddenly resting at your lip.

“That’s not how loveshots work,” you notify, but you still mirror him and place your glass under his lips.

“Do you care?”

“No.”

Seonghwa chuckles and with one movement of his hand, the second shot is flowing down your oesophagus. It’s cold, starkly contrasting the humid conditions in the warehouse, but it’s just enough to get your senses rolling again.

You don’t even care that you made Seonghwa miss half the drink, his alcohol tolerance will give him just the right kick from the first shot. Also he doesn’t protest at all, when you hop from your seat to finally get the evening going.

“Let’s go now!”, you order him around and he gladly obeys. “Lead the way,” he says, putting his hands on your shoulder, which he hopefully won't be able to keep there for long, as you both strut down the stairs and into the crowd.

The massive crowd is crazy, and it’s ever-growing.

“What is this place?”, you ask Seonghwa, as he’s being pushed against your back by the people on the way to the dancefloor and Seonghwa has the perfect opportunity to grab you by your hips to not lose you, but frustatingly enough, he doesn’t. His hands leave your shoulders and Seonghwa just tries to manoeuvre to you.

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” Seonghwa answers honestly and you look for a free place to roam and dance. People are trying to get as close to the DJ as possible, but once those are gone, there’s actually some space you can use— you just have to get there.

“You come here often?”, you ask, leaning backwards for your voice to hit his skin. You'll be hoarse by the end of the night.

“I’ve only went twice. San went to every single set of Mingi, though!”

“Really? San goes here frequently?”

“Yeah! Does that shock you?”

“Of course it does.” You stop, turn around and Seonghwa’s hands stay in place in his pants, as you talk to him. “This, all of this, doesn’t seem like San at all.”

“Hmm, I know what you’re getting at. But that’s just our boy, eh?”

You stare into his eyes and search for some type of playfulness, but Seonghwa means his words. This is where San roams— is roaming right now, maybe— and it, all of it, just fucking confuses you. This is not the "party" you would have expected to see that man in, and if that wasn't bad enough, he's apparently a regular. You hope you’re not pushing some kind of innocent image onto him, but despite the alcohol that's heating up your cheeks and making you dumber every talking second, you’re seriously puzzled. That he’s never invited you is questionable already, but is “that San for you”? You don't know.

Wiggling your hips, you try to retrace history to the very moment you had met shy little San at the seminar, up until now, where he’s grown three times his size and you feel like he's some type of fucking mystery that is impossible for you to solve. Nerd? Hopeless romantic? Hard to get? Playboy? San may act like he’s open-minded, but he’s the most secretive guy you’ve seen. Not like Seonghwa, who, mind you, is still looking at you with the most intense fuck-me eyes, that it’s actually eating you up.

“Let’s stop talking about San.”

“Why?”, Seonghwa asks, obliviously, eyes turning back to normal.

“Because it’s us here! You and I, Seonghwa and Y/N. If they drank a loveshot together, they should act like it, don't ya think, huh?” you grunt, already slurring your words. You start to move your body according to the heavy beat, tits jerking out to the front, arms waving like they have a life on their own. Seonghwa smiles and accordingly begins to step his feet where yours aren’t; your bodies are annoyingly close, but still not touching at all.

“How do you mean that, Y/N?”, he asks and you slap his revealed shoulder with the back of your hand to stop his teasing. “I thought you wanted to show me your dancing, Seonghwa!”, you whine and he laughs at your comment.

But Seonghwa doesn’t say anything after that, which gets on your nerves even more and in response, you turn your body slightly away while swaying your hips from side to side.

“You know what you said,” you hiss and he probably can’t hear you because the DJ is transitioning to a track with even more bass penetrating your ears.

You scurry your body to the beat and catch the gaze of someone in the crowd, who’s noticed you for the same reasons Seonghwa can’t keep his eyes away from you. The stranger is drilling his gaze up and down your chiselled body, licking his lips. Feeling playful, you make a suggestive expression towards him in return of the attention, winking at him. The male immediately makes his way to you.

"You do molly?”, he asks into your ear and you see that he’s got two skittles with cartoonish hearts and smileys drawn on them. That’s Adam. You never did him before, but you surely have heard of him, your friends have had him, your friends have loved him, your friends had painful break-ups with him. Merciless adam, MDMA.

You look back at Seonghwa who’s still dancing next to you, acting like he's not watching this whole situation go down, putting on his sunglasses again, and pushing it up his nose bridge. It sucks. His skin under the top is teasing you to look at it, and it feels so unusual to be longing for him, like you can't comprehend he's not... the other one.

So, though you do hesitate for a short second, you take two of the heart-painted ones and smile at the stranger, who sounds rotten from inside out, voice raspy and hoarse.

“Are you alone?”, he asks into your ear and while you think of answer, you muster Seonghwa, whose eyes you cannot track anymore, since the black cubic shades are hiding his prettiest possession. Is he still looking at you? Watching the sky? Who knows. Only he knows.

“Maybe?”, you answer and rotate your head to the stranger’s direction. You don’t care for this man, not at all, but what you do care for is Seonghwa’s reaction. Bouncing your ass up and down against the stranger's baggy jeans like the grand girl you are, he gets his hand at your waist and tries to pull you over his place, but, there he is, Seonghwa to come save the night.

“Fuck off, she's taken.”

He pushes the male away with his elbow and the grip immediately loosens up. “Hey, hey, dude, don’t hit me. Sorry, dude.” Seonghwa is visibly taller than him, and apparently that’s enough for the poor guy to get intimidated by his sunglassed face and disappear into the crowd with quick feet.

“YOU WANNA PLAY?”, the artificially deepened voice echoes through the warehouse and you stare into what you can make out from Seonghwa’s eyes with an earnest frown. You’ve felt unnecessarily angsty and frustrated the whole day since you saw that message on San’s phone, and this is the guy who’s going to hold responsibility for it, better with his whole fucking devotion now.

“What was that?”, you tease Seonghwa, who’s finally getting his hands out of his pockets and pulling you closer to him by your wrist. You can’t exactly read his expression since he’s covered his face still, but that actually makes it feel a lot better. There's something off about him, like Seonghwa is a stranger, like you’re not doing it for him, but rather… yourself. You're doing this because it makes you feel good, not the other way around. That's empowering.

“Whatever you want it to be, Y/N.”

“Stop tip-toeing around it! Are you going to fuck me or not? ‘Cause there’s more of those guys everywhere here,” your alcohol spits again and Seonghwa pants.

“Well, shit,” he laughs and finally glides into your waist with his arms. “That was direct.”

“I can flirt with you, but not under these fucking conditions,” you growl, intoxicated, recycling gritty air in your lungs, moving your sticky body to the beat and occasionally grinding against Seonghwa’s lower body with your legs from the front. "I can flirt and fuck you," he hums and frames his hands around your hips, connecting himself to you.

“Do you do molly, Seonghwa?”, you grin, the two pills waiting to be popped in inside your hand.

Seonghwa takes a look at the capsules, and you wait for his answer, as he appears to investigate them. Does he know what he's looking for? Apparently yes, as he pushes up his sunglasses and rubs the corners of his lips with two of his fingers, “Gimme.”

He picks it up from your flattened hand, and you would’ve loved to share it like a love-shot again, but before you could request it, Seonghwa has gulped it down. Not his first rodeo, you assume, and follow his suit.

Good thing that your throat hasn't dried out yet and the pill glides down your throat with your saliva. It's not going to take long until the jubilation of the alcohol you've consumed meets the ecstatic effect of molly, and you bite your lip with a grin. "Never thought I'd be doing drugs with you, Seonghwa," you purr and Seonghwa shrugs with a huff, “I thought you’d never even consider it.” Seonghwa exhales in the heat of it all, pulling you closer.

“What? Because of San?”

“Of course because of San,” Seonghwa cackles and puts his pointy chin in between the space of your collarbone and neck, so that his voice is hitting the spot of your hickey. “You know he’s here somewhere, right?”

“Yeah, but the probability that we’ll see him is like zero, so that’s not my concern.”

“You’d be concerned if he saw us, though?”, Seonghwa asks, loose-tongued, murmuring against your neck. He’s definitely fully gotten drunk, his body heavily weighing into yours, as he gets one arm up and around your head; his hand is tangled into your scalp without a caution of messing up your hairstyle. You finding out what the molly will do to him is only a matter of time.

“Are you asking if I’m committed to him?”

Seonghwa licks his lips, “accidentally” getting your skin with his tongue. It takes you aback a bit and you whine, your eyes dozing off for a short moment. You can still taste the remains of the shot at the back of your cheeks and it's the only thing you can sense correctly. Everything else is either fogged or slowly disappearing, or becoming even harsher like the red laser lights that you fear are going to pierce through you.

“No, I’m not asking whether you’re committed,” Seonghwa answers, leaning into your skin even more, “I know you guys aren’t in a relationship. Or, you know, at least he isn’t committed.”

“WANNA GET NASTY?”

It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. Even when you’re feeling very seduced because he is trying to get the same moaning reaction out of you by licking your sensitive spot and it’s working, you don’t want to be reminded that San doesn’t care for you as much as you do for him. Sure, that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? You’re not the one living in the same space as San, Seonghwa is.

“Huh? Does he sleep with a lot of women?”, you ask him out of morbid curiosity, acting tough, as Seonghwa works deeper into your neck, getting the skin to soften for him.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Fuck you! Don’t protect me!”

“Ask him yourself,” he lisps, his sharp tongue grazing against your hickey, teasing your pettiness.

“I deserve to know.”

Seonghwa is the one rolling his eyes now, sighing, “You can be such an annoying brat, Y/N. How does San keep up with you?”

You try to yank your head back to show your discontent with his choice of words, but Seonghwa has you deep in his grip and puts you in place.

“You were the one who didn’t want to talk about San,” he lulls into your ear, stroking your hair to calm you down. Sure, that sounds reasonable, but still not an excuse to call you an “annoying brat”.

You take a wild guess about why Seonghwa isn’t just giving you the answer and argue, “I can still be curious, can’t I? San is not committed, you say? Why? Does he get more bitches than you?”

“He tried to get back with his ex.”

Bingo!

Wait, no. What the fuck?

“Huh, when?”, you ask, and irritatingly enough, Seonghwa has begun biting and licking into your neck at the one spot you can’t stop exhaling sweet noises for him. “Seonghwa, you better fuu-huucking answer.”

“Yesterday,” he murmurs against your skin and ding, ding, ding; things make a lot of sense now.

“No, you’re kidding,” you scoff, and push him away with all your strength. With a numbed mind, Seonghwa tumbles back and laughs, “Hey, it’s no big deal, he called you immediately after it didn’t work out.“

“Seonghwa, are you listening to yourself?”

“WANNA GET FUCKING CRAZY?”

“I’m saying it all like it happened, Y/N. San tried to win her back by inviting her to an expensive dinner, but then she flunked out right in the end, when he invited her back home. And, when he came home alone with a boner, San contacted you.”

“You're lying. Don't lie, Seonghwa, lying is a sin," your splur, but once his words have met your brain, it all just becomes chaos inside. It feels like marbles are rolling down inside your head and nothing is making sense, it’s all going nowhere and everywhere with this information. What are you supposed to feel like? Betrayed? There has never been a promise. Sad? You were going to fuck Seonghwa, you're not the most truthful, either.

“Come on, Y/N. You knew it the second San slammed you against that wall at 11 PM, didn’t you?” Seonghwa glides his thumb over your neck and grins, confirming the evidence of yesterday’s night. The roughful sucking of San could barely be covered up by concealer, and you probably sweated it away already.

“He— he said he was stressed.”

“Because of uni? Don’t lie to yourself, Y/N~”, the male purrs. Amidst of it all, Seonghwa is strangely still moving his body calculated to the beat, hitting each one of the drums with his shoulders, all while he hushes behind you to brainwash you with a whiskery voice. “It’s still San we’re talking about.”

You huff perplexedly and are too flabbergasted by his harsh words to not be affected by Seonghwa’s talking and let him hug you tightly again. He’s almost putting you into a headlock of consolation, or something that would have been great if it had been, indeed, consolation. (It is not. He’s almost choking you with his forearm and the way his hand is pushing into your scalp, nothing about this position is in any way soothing.)

“Tell me something, Seonghwa,” you gutter, since the thought has been recoiling rounds in your head forever and curiosity will always kill the cat. “… is she from his volleyball team?”

“No,” he answers and for some reason, this is a lot worse, “she isn’t, but— wait, how do you know about the girl from his volleyball team?”

You don’t answer. For the sake of your heart, you do not answer. You’re still moving, but you’re moving silently, staring into the humorously wild lasers that are teasing you just like he is.

Seonghwa gasps and cups your chin, his thumb meeting your lip, mushing the lower half of your face, trying to turn your face towards his direction, but you resist him. But who are you fooling. Seonghwa doesn't even need to see your expression to ask you, in an almost utterly disappointed whiny tone, "Nooo, Y/N, do you seriously check his phone?”

“I’m gonna punch you in your pretty fuck-face if you keep whining like that, Hwa.”

“Feisty and flattering, and a new nickname too! It must be my birthday,” Seonghwa chuckles and suddenly begins to nibble your earlobe, warm breath from his nose hitting the skin as he pants throughout his dancing. The alcohol is boiling inside you, being churned by the molly, and the crushing disillusionment is slowly into flaming, enraging, hateful desire. It has all gotta go somewhere, and for now, all you can do it talk with this scorching tone that is only going to turn into even more fuming, “How long has San been pining for his fucking ex?”

“For as long as I can remember," Seonghwa answers, seemingly not aware of the severity of this situation, "Middle of the second semester? Exam-season?”

“Nooo,” you scoff and can’t believe what you’re hearing. You don’t even need to calculate what time Seonghwa is talking about, it is engraved deeply into your memories. The same fucking exam season, when you were seeing San every afternoon and evening. You were right fucking there. He knew— you, on the other hand, not so much.

But you should have known.

“Well, yeah,” Seonghwa grins and is running his hands low to your stomach, almost touching your pelvis to get you worked up even more.

Should have known that you weren’t supposed to fall for San.

Angel faces hide the guts of devils’, and right now, your insides are over-cooking with the question "what the fuck were you thinking?" That he’d come around? Like no man in your life has ever come around? That San was the one? No, that San was going to believe that you were the one? 'Well, yeah', he should have, because you are the fucking one. You did so much for him, you could have done so much more for him, and it frustrates you.

“What are you grinning for, you motherfucker?”, you ask, as you peek over and see that Seonghwa has lowered his sunglasses and staring into your empty eyes, searching for a sign of life. You asked, but you don't really need the answer, the picture is drawn perfectly in front of you. Seonghwa is smirking for the same reasons he’s telling you all of this; it’s pretty clear.

“I like it when you’re bossy,” he chuckles, having become more than ‘a bit cocky’ with you, “unlike San. He hates that, right? He’s so weak-hearted, how can he—“

“You’re his friend, Seonghwa,” you insist and grit your teeth, pushing up his sunglasses again with your two fingers, poking into the middle of the lens to make it greasy.

“Friends can say things about each other!”, he giggles gullibly, and scrunches his face together.

All you can say is that Seonghwa sounds and looks moronic in those square sunglasses, senseless and boozed out of his mind, but in the short moment he licks his sharp canine teeth, you suppose that this is exactly how you need him to be.

“You listen to everything, don’t you?”, you ask him, giving into his touch, pushing your back profile so close to him, that there is no touchable space left between you two. Ass pressed against his pelvic area, you breathe heavily into his face that’s glued to your temple. “Every single night I come over to fuck your roommate?”

“Noise-cancelling can only do so much, and your sound is addicting,” Seonghwa pouts— babbling his truths like it’s water falling out of his mouth— and when you see his pink lip shine under the flashing lights, your mind disorients. He is still the pretty boy that says pretty words, even when he's probably faking all of it; he is getting your insides all fuzzy, and you are still being lured in by him, but not for the reasons Seonghwa would enjoy them to.

You’re chasing the feeling of his comfort and you know it. You’re chasing after the man that won’t leave you alone. Or no, you are alone— so fucking lonely because of him even— but you don’t want to be alone, you don’t want him to leave you alone.

San.

San.

Fuck. San.

The feeling of drowning in San’s praise, in his words, inside his bedroom, muffled by his sheets, it hunts you, it makes you feel watched, and it makes you feel like you’re hungry for something you can’t digest. Every word he has said to you is written in your memories in special font, and even though he is out of sight, San will always stay in your mind. Does he do it on purpose? Leave marks, with both words and his lips? To profit off of your yearning? To make himself feel better? To own something? To feel proud? Does he say it that loud on purpose, too? To make his roommate hear him? To make his roommate feel bad in order to feel good?

Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe San doesn't know Seonghwa is listening at all, maybe he doesn't care about any of it.

"Your pretty sounds," Seonghwa repeats himself, his face pressed against your cheek and you roll your eyes at his lips grazing your skin, his heavy breath from his nose warming it up.

These two men are woven by the same needle, knitted with the same material for they say surprisingly similar things and act surprisingly same, but for some reason, it does not feel the same. It is not the same. It should be the same. It should be the fucking same, fuck! You’re going to explode. The way that your head is spinning, your hips swinging, music ringing— people screeching, feet stomping— everything is happening around and inside you. Head, shoulders, knees and toes, livid. Brain, guts, uterus, livid. Let’s not talk about your heart or else we have to start over again. Just forget about your heart and think about the things that are of use tonight. What can you focus on? You can focus on your body glowing hot, but you could also focus on Seonghwa, whose baggy pants is rubbing against your thin minidress. It’s Seonghwa that you wanted, right? Or was it Seonghwa you were supposed to want, because he is the one that wants you back? — No, fuck, let's re-roll, quickly; Seonghwa is grinding against you right now, from behind, and that's exactly what you imagined, wasn't it? Under these lights, under this influence, this is what you wanted, wasn't it?

With the state of your mind, you can not agree with anything; your thoughts sound foreign and it's not your voice speaking, when you grind your ass back. It also doesn't feel like it's your eyes that you're seeing with; Seonghwa’s smile behind of you is becoming blurry and there’s just one more face that’s slowly appearing from the front-ends of your head. There’s a catch though; what you’re seeing is not the soft face you usually cup with your delicate hands and observe in awe when he sleeps, it’s not the face that lights up when he sees you enter through his front door, it's a face that's reading a text message from his fucking ex in the morning and immediately forgets that you're next to him, available as available can be.

It is actually going to make you puke, right here and there. All your emotions, all your ambitions, all of your fucking dreams. Who is San to you? What is he? You’ve known him for what, a year? — Okay fuck, that’s actually more than you thought, but still, it’s not like San and you have met up in any way that wasn’t purely sexual during all the time you knew him. Know him. You don’t know San. You don’t know shit about him. What are you— San and you? What are you going to be? Boyfriend, girlfriend? Has a nice ring to it, but fuck no, right? There are too many girls, right? Which is why you wanted to get yourself another man too, right?

“Come on, Y/N, forget him.”

While you have alcohol and molly inside you, singing two different songs of lust and desire, Seonghwa is moving his legs according to yours and pressing himself more against you. He’s one sadistic dipshit if Seonghwa thinks you could forget any of what you just went through just by moaning into your ear, but you're going with it.

You can't feel a lot right now, except that Seonghwa’s bulge perfectly fits in the space of your ass, rubbing up and down between the two circular shapes, getting himself more erected with every passing beat.

This whole situation is so fucked up and messy.

But, add one more: You are fucked up and messy. The music is building up loudly and people are shaking their bodies next to you, dancing in the high they've reached long time ago, eyes having lost any sign of concentration or sobriety, and you came here to contemplate whether you’re going to have a one-night-stand to prove a point, mixing drugs to get it on faster. You feel quicker, no, you are quick, rushing from one thought to another like you’re fleeing from your inner voices, both the devil and angel. They’re useless in this situation, they have too much reason.

And you don't need any reasons to think you're in the right to fuck him. Seonghwa’s hands are on your abdomen and gently massaging the skin, making you feel like he thinks you’re valuable, but you both know that this dance you’re holding right now barely cost you anything but 10 dollars in cash.

The red lasers haven’t stopped. They are pointing upwards or downwards for you, but you guess, from the way you’re watching Seonghwa’s lips right now, there’s only one way down. There has always been only one way down.

San chooses an ex over you? Then you’ll choose his dumb fucking roommate over him. Two can play this game, and even if he’s had the lead, you’re going to make your play. Is it going to hurt him? You don’t know. Maybe it won’t. But at least it will be over, right? At least this fucking thing will be over.

“Kiss me, Seonghwa.”

“You serious? I thought San was all up your mind right now.”

“Oh my fucking god, just do it before I take it back.”

“LET’S GET FUCKING INSANE”

Seonghwa doesn’t let you ask twice. While people all around you are turning up to the beat-drop, he pulls your chin up and clashes his lips against yours. His teeth clank against you lip and there's a short, piercing pain there, but Seonghwa's high chuckle blows it away. It’s a violent kiss, but mind-numbing enough so maybe you can forget why you decided to kiss him in the first place. While your lips are working against each other, his hand is sliding down to your groin and it's dangerously close to the seam of your tiny dress. One tug and your whole leg is revealed to the crowd, but you don't look down to see how naked Seonghwa is making you; all you see is yourself, in the reflection of his square sunglasses.

His tongue is electrifying, when it forces its entry into your mouth. It’s long and tastes deliciously foreign- a mixture of alcohol and tobacco, which you haven't experienced in pair since a long time. San, no, “he” (this is what you’ll call him now) doesn’t smoke, which at first, you considered as a big win, because you were passively inhaling all the smoke from your prior flings that you’d had the feeling your lungs were being polluted. Yet a year later, you’re clean— cleaner than never before, you should be able to breathe, you should be able to think clearly, but you can’t. Did you think he was pure? Was it that? That he was this untouched man? Maybe he was. Maybe he was, when he was still a nerd who had never heard a woman say the word “sex” in his— or had he? Fuck, had he? You don’t know, you couldn’t have known. ‘He’ was a façade, wasn’t it? He turned into another person immediately, didn’t he?

Let's get back on Seonghwa’s lips.

You're reminded of your lost freedom and as much it drives you insane, it's driving you into a state of pure, adventurous lust. The way Seonghwa works across your slick tongue is animalistic and wild, and you feel like you’re being pursued with no escape. To catch your breaths a little bit, Seonghwa lets go off your chin and thigh, turning you around so he can have better access to your mouth. Not letting the enlivening music go to waste, he presses his lips on yours the second you inhaled for the second time.

You slip your hands under his knitted top, running them up and down his breast, his abs and abdomen to feel his muscles and skin. It’s only a matter of time until he asks you to move off the dance floor, but your alcohol is bombarding you with sweet suggestions you can’t let pass without saying. His exposed skin feels cold under your fingers, but when you cup his hardened erection through the fabric with your hand and move it according to Seonghwa’s tongue slicking against yours, he radiates heat.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa pants into the kiss and you hum, continuing to tease him on this godless dance floor. Nobody has their senses right and is observing you two making out with dozy eyes, nobody cares about anything here. There’s only right now, the song the DJ is playing for the mindless crowd of drugged, intoxicated people. Let’s get insane.

You try to get a good feel of Seonghwa’s cock and its girth with your hand. “You’re big,” you murmur, catching air again, “smaller than San though.”

And there you have it, men are so easy to galvanize.

“Say that again, you fucking cunt,” Seonghwa growls and digs his fingers into your ass, eyebrows pulled down so hard that his forehead could explode.

“Why? ‘Cause you’re better than him?”, you taunt him and click with your tongue, catching a breath. “You’re no better than Sannie,” you sneer, pointing at your hickey with your finger to remind him (but mostly yourself), “don’t think you could be.”

Seonghwa goes fucking angry. Apparently he thinks he’s done so much for you, has been so nice to you, has helped you, whatever, and this is how you show him your thanks. Grabbing your hair, he pushes his forehead against yours and you catch a glimpse of his darkened eyes, feeling the stinging pain from the impact linger, while he talks. His breath is scarce from having kissed you, so he’s trying his best to use his voice to taunt you.

"San is probably fucking his fucking ex-girlfriend right now, do you think you're any better than him, huh, slut? You are the one who's so fucking desperate to get him to love you, and you're still here with me, and you're kissing me, so we're both in the wrong, you fucking whore."

His words don’t mean anything to you, visiting the synapses of your brain, but leaving right after. You just grin with your eyelids covering half of your eye and Seonghwa realizes nothing is arriving inside your sweet, broken mind. Your cheeks are red from the lack of oxygen, drugs and you’re flushed at the cause of his libidinous touch, and Seonghwa sees he's been working around your hair a little bit too much, having ruffled it up to the point that a comb-through will not amount to a lot. You look like a crazy person to him, but nothing attracts a joke more than a hard-hitting punchline.

“We're both single,” is what you lull to correct him, licking over your lips that you can't feel anymore since Seonghwa has kissed them numb. "And I think that's all that matters."

You both hear the music come to an exhilarating high and slowly reach your evaporating point.

“You sound like San,” Seonghwa giggles and he probably thinks it's going to push you over, but it doesn't. He’s still staring into you like he’s searching for a weak spot, but you’re persistent, you’re needy, and while you are weak, you are unforgivably yourself, Y/N.

You smash both your hands on each of his cheeks and you look at yourself through the sunglasses, sneering, "Good. San is a better name to moan."

He scoffs and smiles so condescendingly sweet again, but out of his mouth comes nothing worthwhile. "I'm going to fuck your voice out of your fucking throat, you're never going to moan ‘San’ ever fucking again," he growls and you drench yourself in his vulgarity, kissing him repeatedly.

"Never again," Seonghwa repeats himself, digging his thumbs into your ribs, but his tone isn't as forcing as it is... begging. Asking—demanding you to put all your attention on him, like he knows your heart isn't his and he desperately wants to possess yours. Oh, he definitely knows. You're not fooling anybody, at least didn't try to, but Seonghwa is gullible enough to fall for your tricks, how it seems like. San is painted on your body all the while your dance partner is speaking through his heavy breathing; painted on your neck, in your eyes, it’s annoying Seonghwa, it distracts him, it makes him see red, and not the colour on your skin.

"Awww, do you want me to only moan your name tonight?", you baby Seonghwa, mocking that he's finally revealed his motivations behind all of this. At least you think you've hit the nail in the coffin, when you pout to mirror Seonghwa’s expression.

Seonghwa's greatest sin isn't lust, it's envy. It could be any girl coming and leaving their dorm, moaning San’s name through the thin walls, never to be seen again and he wouldn't bat a second eye, but you— Y/N? San letting a woman like you go without further notice sickens him, like a crime, like a mistake. To hear your voice be pleasured by San at night, and then hear you sing good-bye to the man who does not care as much as he does in the morning, that has sent Seonghwa into a spiral of jealousy, but you’re not sure why. Some fucked-up reason probably, though it doesn’t seem like an ex is the cause this time. Maybe it’s really just because of you.

Sorry to say that you don’t care about that though. Not one single fucking bit. You don't want any of that complex trauma-talk tonight. You want to have sex and forget the sex right after.

"Be mine tonight, Y/N," Seonghwa answers and his eyebrows are pushed in to his forehead. He looks sultry, at least the parts you can see. Sultry, passionate, ready to fuck you, no, desperate to fuck you, in fact, you can feel the pre-cum soak his pants, when you cup his girth.

“You’re so pathetic,” you smirk, “it might actually be worth a try.” Seonghwa lets out a breathy exhale, finally breaking. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the molly, or his issues that suddenly took over his conscience, but he doesn’t have any of that left. He grabs you by your wrist with a grip that leaves a white mark, and without forewarning, Seonghwa yanks you through the people.

You hit each and every one of the strangers on your way to wherever. Shoulder hitting against shoulder, breast against breast, it better not leave any more bruising that you already have on your neck. “Seong- wha!”, you wheeze, tumbling at his force, tripping over your own feet over and over. The hall is huge, and he’s seemingly seeking to get to the very end of it.

“Seonghwa!”, you repeat yourself, but he won't listen to you. You're being pulled into a rollercoaster of anything but emotions (at least for you) and you can hear laughter leave your mouth without reason as you pass by irritated people who find it impolite to be barging into the big crowd like this. This dude's crazy, they scorn, but they don't really look that lucid as well, you find, with the last bits of thinking you can do.

"Where are we going?", you ask, but mostly to reassure that you still have a sense for geographical knowledge. You can see the bar again, mobs of people dancing on the stairs so that it's shaking even more compared to how you two had left it, but most importantly, you see that this is a space that's occupied by your kind. So much skin. So many slutty outfits. Outfits? Lingerie. This side looks like a fucking strip-club. Are you at a strip-club? What the fuck is this place? No, seriously, what the fuck is this place?

Seonghwa is finally stopping and you catch a breath from the running. With him doing his weird hand-signs again, you recognize the security guard from the beginning, smiling under his sunglasses, showing an "OK"-sign and pointing to the back of the stairs. You could swear he winked at you.

"What the fuck?", you ask, but Seonghwa only shrugs, making you follow his backwards steps under the stairs, where in black graffiti 'MY PEOPLE DONT BELIEVE IN LOVE' is smeared all over the wall. The same walls are occupied by couples or at least people making out wildly with their eyeliners smeared beyond repair. Is this some sex-area? (No idea) Is this legal? (100% no) Does Seonghwa look so fucking hot without his top on? (Fuck) He does.

Your eyes go cross-eyed, when Seonghwa enters the most mirrored bathroom you've ever seen in a warehouse, but before you can question the fact why people invest in decorating a fucking porta-potty, the male is pulling off his knitted top with one smooth pull, barely waiting a second for you to close the door behind you. The vibrations of the music ring on the metal stairs over you, and you feel like the beat is mushing your brain one size smaller, when you're met by Seonghwa barging at your body.

Pushing you against the plastic door, you feel all of Seonghwa's naked torso with your hands stroking roughly over his skin, and you admire his jewellery sitting on his collarbones, getting your fingers at it around his neck to pull him closer. "You like my necklace?", Seonghwa murmurs, as he pushes his lips into the crook of your neck.

"Choke on it," you gutter and yank him upwards, kissing him. While you do so and Seonghwa begins to unclothe you by getting your arms up, you catch a glimpse of yourself through the mirror. Your hair isn't looking as silky as it did when you left your home, there's mascara smudged around your eye already, but if you're not mistaken, and you can see it by how Seonghwa is sucking your nipples the second your bra falls to the floor, you will look worse in no time.

But that's not to say that you aren't still looking gorgeous. You look bewitchingly sexy, eyelids fluttering with each of Seonghwa's eager touches that are tracing down your body. "Fuck, you look so good," he murmurs and he's trying to keep his eyes open in order to see you. He's gotten you naked pretty quick considering the circumstance, you would've wished for a bit more foreplay here, but maybe it's a reoccuring theme to be impatient.

"You are such a fucking gorgeous girl, San doesn't know what he's missing right now," Seonghwa wheezes and goes through his hair, once he has your dress dropping on the dirty floor, revealing your joke of underwear. If he had kept your bra, he would have seen that you've worn a matching set of burgundy lingerie, but Seonghwa's mouth is still drooling at your pair of perfect thighs, his hand stroking over his lips. You roll your eyes at him and lean your head against the plastic door. You've done such a good job forgetting his name, and here's this dumbass mentioning him again. "You bet your ass he's missing this, huh?", you snarl and play with your own breast with one hand, while the other is cupping Seonghwa's rib, gliding down to his v-line, where his throbbing cock is awaiting you.

"He doesn't deserve you, Y/N."

He wheezes again. It seems like Seonghwa is taking his last breaths, unable to form words since your fingers are exploring how quick they can get to his erection.

"And you do?", you snap back and scoff. He pushes his glasses up to his forehead and for the first time since a long time, you can see Seonghwa's eyes shimmer. Oh fuck, you think, and it's difficult to not kiss him again. You're a bitch. You know you're a bitch for not caring about his feelings, and you know you will indeed not be better than San if you ghost this man right after this evening, but it must be done. For your sake, at least.

"I do," Seonghwa answers, though a lot weaker and less confident than he used to be before. You sigh. He may think he deserves you, but you don't deserve him. His gaze is too sweet, you've got to put those sunglasses back on, if you don't want to develop something. The only thing you can look at to get your mind elsewhere is yourself, in the mirror.

"Don't try to prove yourself," you murmur and Seonghwa wraps his arms around your back and props you by your thigh to lift you up. You can see his back muscle tense up, as he has you steadily in his grip. "I'm not," he answers and there's something that's fluttering inside your breast, when Seonghwa licks up your jawline, because you feel everything; From how wet his tongue is, how warm his saliva sits on your skin to the way what an adoring look Seonghwa is wearing on his face, as he kisses you. "I got nothing to prove to you."

You smirk and see yourself looking very dozy, drunken on alcohol, drugged by MDMA, ducked by Seonghwa's hand between your legs. It's pushing between your folds and with your last bit of control you have over your body, you spread your legs for him, inviting him to get his fingers inside your panties, and of course he does.

With a grin, Seonghwa devotes his tongue to your jaw again and works it into your skin with circular motion. "So fucking wet, and I thought you didn't want to fuck me."

"Who said I wasn't going to fuck you?"

Seonghwa is too busy sucking on the other side of your neck (other side meaning the side that is still unhickey-ed) to answer, but you're persistent. You came to this place to fuck him, and you're pretty sure that nothing from what you told him tonight alluded to something else. And also, even when you're fucked out of your mind, you still have a sense for people who keep secrets. So while Seonghwa is sucking small patches of skin on your neck and you see yourself with an opened mouth with sighs leaving it that you can't hear with your own ears.

"San says things sometimes," Seonghwa murmurs and continues to plant roses on your neck that you can see appear on your skin, "but that's irrelevant now."

"What does he say?", you insist, but the charcoal-haired man puts on his sunglasses again and shakes his head. Switch. As if you hadn't had enough from men who were two-faced, Seonghwa hides his eyes, turning into an inscrutable being again. A stranger. A stranger who's groping your cunt from the front, making your groin tense up and push him closer from the back. You're wrapping him with your legs and holding onto him tightly, when he catches a breath.

"Meaningless things,” he pants and throws you over the door, your arms landing on the frail sink in front of you. The mirror expands and all of the sudden you see yourself in full quality, in all your glory and Seonghwa is only supporting you from the back. His hand is grabbing your chin and pushing it up to the mirror, his pointing finger smudging your lip. With your lips slightly opened, it just makes sense to you to lick around his finger and look at him with a demanding look, eyebrows sultrily pushed together.

"Fuck, Y/N," Seonghwa gulps and cups your breast from behind, massaging it, while he presses his hot lips on your back. "Can I eat you out? Please,” he sighs and you take his finger in, lubing it up with your saliva.

"Do whatever you fucking want," you sneer and balance yourself with two hands on the sink, as Seonghwa raises a leg and throws it over his shoulder, his pretty face planted into your pussy the second you've given him permission to. You spasm to the front, Seonghwa's hair tickling your lower abdomen, as he works his tongue over your slick folds. If his tongue was great for kissing, it's certainly great for cunnilingus too, no, maybe even better suited for it. He's reaching spots that haven't been reached by a tongue in a long time and with the wet muscle working in and out inside you, you're becoming a moaning mess with fluttering eyelids in no time.

"Fuuuck", you gasp, when Seonghwa kneads your ass that's extended out in the air. The sound of his slurping and the music outside assimilate and mix up, and if it wasn't for the hightened senses you got from your molly-influence, it feels like everything is hammering you down from the outside. You can feel each twitch of Seonghwa's mouth, how he smiles, how he's yelping for air, how he's licking over his lips — you're going to fall somewhere, and if it's not into the cheap sink and the mirror that's taunting you, it's in love with his tongue that’s going to make you cum.

"So soon?", Seonghwa murmurs, and two fingers begin to penetrate your gaping hole, as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive clit.

"Fuck, fuck!", you whine and Seonghwa takes note of how your entrance is tightening around him, angling his fingers towards your g-spot. "So fucking good!", you breathe and you're trying to get a glimpse of your mirrored image in front of you, but your eyes are rolling to the back of your head too much.

"Mhm~", Seonghwa hums with an amused tone, repeating a cycle of sucking and licking, pumping against your g-spot. You're flying, the loud tunes bombarding the walls of the porta-potty are slowly getting to your head and intrusing what's left of your conscious mind, only feeling the tickling sensation that is being eaten out by none other than Park Seonghwa.

Until it stops.

You were whining, announcing your impending orgasm, but he apparently had other ideas, pulling out his fingers and removing his lips from you the second you were drawing together your body, preparing for sweet release. "Don't fucking stop!", you yell and grab Seonghwa by his hair, pushing him closer to your cunt by force. "Seonghwa!"

Seonghwa, who you don't know if he seriously just wanted to be called by his name in this situation, chuckles in witticism and wraps his arm around your thigh, getting the other leg over his shoulder too. You're sitting up front now, and there is no space for him to get his finger anywhere near your cunt, but his tongue is more than enough.

"Make me cum or I'm gonna fucking leave, you fucking asshole," you growl and grip a big chunk of his hair to get your message across. The man below you moans and resumes his job, clearly attracted by your lust-driven dominance. 'I like it when you're bossy', you re-call, and before you can finish the quote in your head, Seonghwa has plunged his tongue into your cunt.

"Ungh, fuck!", you moan, a bit more sensitive and distorted this time. Trying to hold your heavy upper body straight, Seonghwa is laving at your cunt, driving you crazy with the speed of his tongue maneuvering inside you. Maybe it was better that Seonghwa edged you, because now every flick is shooting you further into the abyss of pleasantry. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you stutter, the second wave of the overwhelming euphoria gathering itself like a tsunami.

Seonghwa is more relaxed than you are, though his whole face is busy being used to pleasure you. His nose is dug into your clit and he's shaking his head around to be able to tickle it all during the while he's cutting away his breath to pant into your heat and spreading your slick on his tastebuds.

"Make me cum," you whine, "make me cum with your tongue!"

"Say 'please Seonghwa'," Seonghwa smirks and has the tip of his tongue placed on your clitoris just enough for your orgasm to not be washed away, but definitely not coming, while you grip more of his hair.

"You fucking bitch, I'll never fucking—", you pant, but there's no other way around it. You need this orgasm. "You—"

Seonghwa looks up to you and you can see him waiting. Pushing your thighs together because he annoys you so much, you yank his head closer to your cunt and scream, "okay, fuck, make me fucking cum, Seonghwa, please!"

The man between your thighs chuckles through his nose and once you said the magic-words, he opens his mouth back open to lap around your clit and cunt like a mad dog. Having been denied your orgasm for the second time, the third attempt to chase it down hits you even more, making you breathe heavily and loudly, and this time, the strings are pulling you to total stupification.

"Please, please, please, Seonghwa, please—"

Repeating the words Seonghwa wants to hear so bad again and again, you're fuelling his decision to finally allow you to come. His tongue circles around your clit as if he was racing with the music and your face is parallel to the floor, when your body goes lax and the strands of Seonghwa's hair are the only thing keeping you up.

"Seonghwa, please," you whisper again, weak, and almost sent over the top, while Seonghwa growls under you, his tongue stroking over your sensitive bud until you're shaking and pressing your legs together. "Fuck!", you scream out and Seonghwa throws one leg away from his shoulder, your wobbly foot landing on the floor, when the male stands up and gets to fingers into your cunt.

"Seonghwa, please—", you gasp, when he rams them into your throbbing arousal that barely reached its high and you have to get your arms around his neck if your knees are still worth something to you. "Oh my fucking god," and other moans come spurred out of you and Seonghwa bites into your shoulder to add another stimulative pain to all the sensations you're feeling.

His fingers are long and slender and for all you can grasp, they know what they're doing, when they're driving in and out with no mercy. That this is Seonghwa, you don't really care, that this isn't San, you do just a little bit, but "caring" takes a bit too long in the brain anyway. If your first orgasm from his tongue made your head fly, the second one is evaporating it. Your head feels light and corrupted by the DJ screaming inaudible things into his set, an artificially deepened laughing-track following his ad-lib and your lower body is trembling like a new-born deer, when Seonghwa keeps pushing against your soft patch inside. “Stop— stop, Seonghwa—“, you pant and your legs hold Seonghwa's wrist until he wiggles it out.

"You good?", Seonghwa laughs. He walks behind you and raises your face by your chin, pressing his own cheek next to yours, so both of your faces are seen in the mirror, his pelvis pushed against your ass again.

"Uh-huh," you shudder, your runny mascara making your eyes sticky, "very good."

He smiles, though it's definitely not a friendly smile. This isn't what friends do. It never will be something that friends do and you try to find some type of sanity behind your sunken irises, but there's nothing there. There is someone knocking on the door, Seonghwa's phone is vibrating in his pants, and like the bad person you are, you can't stop to wish that behind at least one of these interruptions is a certain someone is waiting for you, asking for you or anything— fuck. It's worse Seonghwa somehow knows what you're thinking, taking out his phone with his free hand, your face still being cupped by the other.

"You think this is him, don't you?", he asks and lets his temple drop against the top of your head, "Let's bet."

"If you think I'm gonna bet on something like that," you hiss and grind your bare ass against his clothed cock to distract him from the fact he's correct, “you’re a fucker.”

"I'm gonna fuck you, so I don't know where you're coming from here."

You scoff and throw his phone into the sink, when Seonghwa seemingly opens the message and starts to grin.

"Seonghwa," and you know you're lying through your teeth here with the full awareness that Seonghwa probably knows that you’re lying as well, "I want you," and yet you have the very secure feeling that you got into his head.

"Hm, what?", he asks and looks confused, unable to be angry that you snatched his phone out of his hand. You smirk for a short time and lean into his hand that's stroking your cheek. "I want you, Seonghwa," you sigh and pout. If you can't commit, you might as well commit to the lie, right? Be a little opportunistic.

"I don't care about San," you whisper and Seonghwa pulls down his glasses, making him human again.

"Really now…”

Choi San: the connection is so bad Choi San: where are you right now?

You nod and there’s a black-tinted tear rolling down your cheek, warm and melting on your skin. Seonghwa takes his thumb and glides it over the flow and holds his hand at your cheek again.

Choi San: i saw her Choi San: wtf she looked so different

You both saw the message and you both decided to ignore it. It doesn't matter anymore, his hand was already between your legs, your arousal has already coated his fingers.

That's how this works.

His touch, caressing your woeful face, his eyes pitying your pain. He's still erected, definitely impatient, but Seonghwa has something that you haven't experienced for a long time. You don't want to think of it, you can't think of it, because it might just be an illusion, but when Seonghwa slides his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, you have to suppress the suffocating feeling that you must never see this man ever again, if you don't want to carry this burden with you. You can't tell yourself enough, you do not want Seonghwa.

But it's nice.

"Look at yourself, Y/N. Look how pretty you are."

It's nice to know that someone wants you. That someone cares to wipe away the tears from your eyes, though they're not tears formed by a sadness you’d be able to express, a sadness that encourages you to hold eye contact with yourself, as Seonghwa whispers words of comfort into your ear. "Don't cry, pretty girl," he murmurs, and it feels like the music is being subdued around you. You've fallen from grace. “You could have anything in the world..”

How nice would it be, if he was right? You’re not sad, you have everything you could, don’t you? It could be this is just another lie you're going to commit to to protect yourself, but Seonghwa is holding you by your throat, cutting your airflow. The blood curdles in your head and while the male behind you is opening up his pants, the phone blinks.

Seonghwa and you both look down. Incoming call: Choi San.

"Oh," Seonghwa exhales and immediately checks for your reaction in the mirror, but your expression is empty. The drugs are fogging your mind and there is no ounce of vitality behind your eyes.

Seonghwa turns the phone around. "Fuck me first, Seonghwa," you tell him, your voice wispy, barely understandable, he probably had to lip-read in order to understand what you were saying, "let's get it over with."

He doesn't appreciate your dismissive tone, but Seonghwa is too horny to say anything against it, pushing you over the sink, grabbing his cock and placing it near your cunt. While your abdomen is pressed against the dirty, cold surface, Seonghwa is murmuring something under his breath and gliding his hot, throbbing erection across your pulsating folds. "I don't care at all," you whine, trying to convince yourself and ignore the continuous buzzing from his phone, but also make him hurry up. There's an end-goal you're chasing here.

"Kiss me," you order the male behind you, and as he finally positions his tip at your entrance, Seonghwa tilts your head to the side, ripping your gaze away from his mobile. "You really like kissing, don't you?", he huffs and smirks, pushing himself into you in one slow thrust. "Fuuuck," you breathe, feeling your walls expand for his length, "what about it?"

"I just think it's sweet. It makes it more personal, doesn't it?"

"Come on, Hwa, are you trying to make me angry again? I'm getting tired here," you purl and visibly roll your eyes at him, your eyelids getting heavier with each word that's spoken out loud. Your body weighs into Seonghwa's arms and if he doesn't hurry up, you'll fall asleep, your pulsating cunt tightening around his girth.

"Sweetheart, let me talk," he says, in a soft voice that makes your heart drop. You don't want him, you don't want his sweetness, fuck, you only wanted Seonghwa for this one night, for his dick and dick only, why is he trying to get inside your head? Don't do it, you try to mouth to him. You don't know him, he doesn't know you, his cock is inside your cunt, this is the worst timing to—

"You're something else."

"Seonghwa, stop, before you say anything too nice. Just close your mouth, this isn't good for both of us, you already said we're bad people. You know we don't want this," you mutter and start moving your ass to somehow get his mind elsewhere, but through his whimpers and low moans, Seonghwa won't stop grunting under the influence.

"No, speak for god-damn yourself, because, shit, Y/N, I can't watch it anymore, okay? Every day and night— You come over and let yourself be played by San, that fucking asshole, and I just think—"

"Seonghwa, shut the fuck up!", you scream and you're a breath away from pulling his cock out your cunt and leave this place naked, but just when you thought you can't do it anymore, Seonghwa has gotten his hands on your hips, digging his fingernails into your skin as if he's trying to hopelessly keep you close, his pelvis clapping against your ass, as he strikes into you.

Surprised, you moan and your fingers slip against the edge of the sink, strands of your hair falling in front of your face. You weren't prepared for that kind of vigor.

"Don't you dare think I'm that pathetic," he growls and thrusts into you with force in a rhythm that is terrifyingly close to the music outside, his cock slamming against your inner wall, making your legs close up by themselves.

"I'm not thinking I could treat you better," Seonghwa huffs and gets the hair away from your face, grabbing your hair to clear up your view, "I'm thinking what a fucking cockslut you are, Y/N."

Drugs never make sad people happier. Never make broken people whole.

So even when Seonghwa makes you realize that none of the men in your life have ever taken you serious, a hoarse laugh leaves your mouth, and you tilt your head to the back to examine the traces of them on your neck. Your eyes glisten with the way you're being fucked from behind and your mouth is not closing, you've lost control over yourself a long time ago, and it's not when this long day started with you in San's bed, it's when he took off your shirt on that random night during exam season.

"You're lucky you're pretty," he grunts and you chuckle, smiling absent-minded, upper body see-sawing with Seonghwa's pelvis-movement. Your ass is slowly hurting from how hard he is driving himself in, but you're too busy looking at your neck.

Red, red, red. A little bit of purple. A big patch here, small spots over there; anyone could look at you and would know that you've been claimed by someone. Maybe even think that you're, gasp, in a relationship! They wouldn't guess it was two people to leave these hickeys, and frankly, they would be right to think you're claimed by one person only.

"San said he'd fuck me stupid," you giggle— you're fetching old memories from your mind, re-painting the colors, completing the gaps like a mandala; the same memories from the older days which you wouldn't call better, but certainly easier; from days where you didn't have to worry about a man breaking your heart.

Seonghwa scoffs and grabs you by your tit, pulling your nipple with harsh tugs, the sensitive, delicate nub being wounded by his aggressiveness. He's stopped being gentle a long time ago, leaving a big star-shaped mark on your ass by clapping the surface of his hand.

"San said I'm his whore," you reminisce, biting your teeth through the pain, and Seonghwa is speeding up his thrusting, his cock angled inside you to entirely fill out your tight space.

"San said—"

Seonghwa has had enough. He's pressing the surface of his hand onto your mouth and nose, silencing you, cutting you short of your air, your eyes rolling back, but it doesn't prevent your thoughts to continue tumbling down. Seonghwa may be jolting his hips into you like his life depends on it, and in a way, that may be true, but he'll never pleasure you like San could.

People-pleaser. San said he was a people-pleaser.

You don't remember the orgasm, you don't remember Seonghwa's loud grunt into your ear, you don't remember how much hot cum he ejaculated into you, how panicked the black-haired was, when he asked you whether you took the pill, how quickly he became sober and put his clothes back on, the speed of time seemingly passing like a rocket-ship, the music never stopping to blitz into your brain, how the porta-potty became really fucking empty, once Seonghwa left it, but what you do remember is how you took his phone that he forgot like the dumb-ass he was, and how weak your voice sounded, when you answered San's call that by some magical way, kept ringing in.

"Can you come fetch me?"

"Who is this?"

"Come fetch me, please."

"Y/N?"

And people-pleasers should do anything to keep their people happy.

Especially if they're Choi San and avoidant of conflict.

part 4: coming soon!

#choi san smut #choi san x reader #ateez smut #ateez x reader #choi san scenarios #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #park seonghwa smut #park seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x y/n #haveyourwaywithwordsbemypeoplepleaser #chokkiwa

[eatbabies0]

Pip is so cute. Pip is so silly. I don't understand how cold and pathetic you fucking could be to hate pip. He already gets enough torture from the other kids, and he can't even rest in peace. He's such a cutie. He's a silly british guy who was left behind and forgotten in another timeline. If you hate pip, you basically hate cats and dogs. Pip is one of the silliest. If you hate pip, you should end your life. Your stages in life have clearly went to the very last point and your blood might as well be cold. If you hate pip, you're a fucking maggot. You're as annoying and useless as a mosquito flying around and biting me. You're a fucking burden. You deserve nothing if you hate pip. He gets tormented and you can't even show remorse for him? What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you like, okay? Did something hit your head? Did you not get treatment? I don't understand people who could ever hate pip, he does nothing wrong and is overall a punching bag. Pip is my son and I love him. He doesn't deserve anything wrong or negative. Pip is a sweetheart who is nothing but nice to people and you wanna go and say you hate him? You'd burn him? You're happy he's dead? I can't understand you. Are you on another planet? Did we watch the same show? Do you even watch south park or do you just take other peoples words? If you hate pip, you should fucking rot. You should burn. You're a disgusting person. I feel like you'd be the kind of person to pick on him if he was in school. He's nothing but a kind gentleman who wants nothing more than to treat others properly. He's a silly little guy. He deserves the world. I can't believe YOUR ass would go and say "I hate pip Im so happy he's dead" like wow, wow, you might as well be as fat as a discord mod or that guy who played world of warcraft so much he was able to practically glitch the game in that one episode. You're a terrible person with terrible thoughts, feelings, and have no purpose of living on this planet. You should mature. You're disgusting honestly. I can't believe how you'd decide that you'd go and comment that. I will spread yo cheeks little bro if i see you in these comments again. I feel like you'd be the type of person to sit at your computer all day on reddit eating chips. You're a disgusting person with absolutely no life. And I hope one day I hear news that you got hurt really badly. I hope one day you get one of your limbs cut off. I hope you get aids. I hope you get cancer. I wish every bad thing onto you. I wish the worst upon you. I hate every aspect of you and I hope your IP address gets leaked and your house gets nuked. I hope one day you get crushed to death just like my son did. I hope someone pisses on your grave. I hope nobody comes to your funeral. You know what? I hope you don't even get a funeral. I hope you just get left to rot and decompose wherever you died. I hope nobody ever misses you, and nobody will remember you. I hope someone says one day "God, I hated that guy so much. I'm so happy he's dead." Oh wait, that'll be me. I fucking HATE. YOU. And i wish the worst upon you. "Let people have opinions" not when they're negative about my son, my child. I hate every aspect of you. And I hope you perish and are tormented the worst way imaginable in hell. I hope one day you fucking rot. I hope you burn and survive. I hope you end up like the preschool teacher in South Park and can only beep on your machine for yes and no. I hope you'll be forgotten, and i hope nobody marries you. I hope you never get far enough in life and I hope you die early. I hope you die young. I hope you never get a spouse. i hate every section, every aspect, every part, I hate the blood that pumps in your veins, i hate everyone related to you, i hate your mom, i hate your dad, I hope one day, your bloodline disappears just like pip's did. I can't believe you'd really go on and hate on my son who did nothing wrong to you. And this is the longest thing i've EVER written without copy-paste.

[neowinestainedress]

Stumbled upon 2 of your doyoung's au requested to you and god that made me crave for another doyoung one !!

Can i also request for college!enemy doyoung smut au. enemies (but w high sexual tension) to lovers. thanks 🧡

w!: sexual tension, public fing*ring, unprotected s*x (i'm just too lazy to write about condoms, don't do it irl)

a/n: this turned long for a drabble bc 1) I don’t know how to keep these dynamics short (and i still think this is not the best) and 2) I missed the ‘to lovers’ part and didn’t address it where it was supposed to end BUT i didn’t want to scrap everything i wrote to replace it with the actual s*x scene

Hating Kim Doyoung is natural for you, and after two years of college, you know the feelings are mutual. It would’ve been easy to ignore him, if only he didn’t speak over you every time, or if he didn’t stumble on you in the halls, or worse even sit next to you in class. 

It’s almost as if he was doing that on purpose. 

It wouldn’t be that bad if things stopped here, if your stupid brain didn’t short-circuit every time he was too close to you, if your mouth didn’t hang open when he would lean closer and trap you against a wall, if your eyes didn’t close when a wave of his perfume would wash over you. 

It would be so much better if you didn’t find him so hot. 

“So, want to work on that project with me?” It would be better if right now Kim Doyoung wasn’t standing in front of you, bag hanging from his shoulder, while his body is wrapped in his usual clothes defining his broad shoulder and small waist so well, asking you to team with him. 

You scoff, shaking your head from your dirty thoughts, and reply, “Why would I?” 

Doyoung snickers, tilting his head. “Don’t you think it’s funnier to work together? If you’ll spend so much time with someone else how could I annoy you?” 

You roll your eyes, starting to walk in the corridors, ignoring him, but he still trails behind; you have the same lessons, unfortunately, so there’s not really an escape for you. “You think the way you retort everything I say it’s not annoying enough?” 

He shrugs. “Not really. Also, that’s not annoying you, that’s proving a point.” 

“Oh, really, Kim? And what point are you proving?” You ask, stopping in your tracks to turn around, damning yourself because you caught him off guard and now you’re standing face to face. 

Doyoung smirks, eyes falling on the gulp in your throat and the way your chest rises faster, but doesn’t dwell on it too long. With a click of his tongue and a proud smirk on his face, he goes back to the main topic. “That I’m always right.”

You scoff awkwardly, trying to look away, and taking a step back for the sake of your sanity. Silently cursing him and questioning what he gets for wearing such an expensive and intense perfume that gets to your brain, almost more than his perfect — slappable — face does. “You wish.” 

“I don’t have to wish for it, and you know it,” he taunts, mockingly pinching your cheek, making you grunt and go back to your steps. 

“And that’s why you’re wrong.” 

“I’m also wrong when I say you want to fuck me?” 

You almost choke on your saliva and trip in your steps when those words get registered in your brain. “What the fuck are you talking about?” You mutter, turning around with a glaring gaze. 

“You know everything, honey, I’m sure you also know what I’m talking about.” 

“You’re so full of yourself, thinking everybody is ready to jump on your dick,” you bite back. “Well, it will never be me.” 

Doyoung snickers, tilting his head to the side. “No, really? Then I assume you will have no problems teaming with me on this project.” 

“I don’t want to team with you because I hate you, and we don’t work well together, and I’m not screwing up my grad—”

“Good, see you this Friday at 3 in the Uni library, in front of the history session,” he says, sending you a flying kiss, and walking past you, “there’s nobody there,” he winks before turning around and leaving you speechless in the middle of the corridors, and also late for your lesson. 

You would’ve skipped going there on Friday, but it’s not like there are many other people that would die to make a project with you (or better, there were, but you’d rather want to kill Doyoung while he does something, than sit for hours and break your back for people that won’t lift a finger to help). So here you are, walking toward the table in the History section where he’s already waiting for you. 

“Not even greeting each other, now?” He says when you sit next to him without a word and immediately pull out your laptop to work on the project. 

“Hi,” you say sarcastically, smiling at him. 

He rolls his eyes before looking up and down and you. “Beautiful skirt, is this how you dress when you don’t have lessons?” 

“I’m going to do the project with someone else if you don’t stop.” 

“With who? Someone that will do nothing and take all the credit for it?” He laughs at your expressions and then talks again. “Honey, why do you think I picked you?” 

“Don’t call me honey,” you retort. “Also, I think you picked me because you knew I would’ve done a better job, and you don’t enjoy losing.” 

“You’re so annoying,” he snickers, shaking his head. “Let’s start before it gets too late.” 

Two hours pass by and you feel like your brain will explode, rubbing your temples and getting distracted by everything — him — more than you could afford. 

“Will you please stop staring at my hands?” 

“What are you talking about?” You snap, glaring at him, but the menacing look on your face disappears when he comes face to face with you, placing his thumb on your lips. 

“Shut up,” Doyoung orders. “I don’t want to get kicked out of the library because of you.” 

You furrow, thinking of a comeback but your body betrays you as your eyes fall on his veiny hands again and your thighs squeeze together as your brain imagines them on you, and in you. 

“I love being proven right,” Doyoung whispers, a smug smirk twitching on his face as he stares at you. Your lips are parting but no sound comes out of it and before you can realize, his hand is on your thigh, making its way to your panties. 

“Doyoung, I…” 

“What? Tell me this isn’t what you were imagining and I’ll stop,” he says, hand stilling on its spot as he waits for your answer. 

“I… I,” you mumble, frenetically looking around to make sure you’re still alone. “Please.” 

Doyoung scoffs, scrolling his back hair away from his eyes. “Please is not an answer.” 

You groan. “I was… I was thinking about it,” you confess, lowering your head to don’t give him more victory with the flustered look on your face. 

“Music to my ears,” he hums, and his hand crawls up on your leg until it reaches your panties. “Go on, the project won’t do on its own.” 

“Are you kidding me? How can I concentrate?” 

“I thought you were smart enough to do more than one thing at once,” he teases, slipping the crotch to the side as he starts rubbing your clit, making you suppress a moan. “Go on, we need to finish this part today.” 

You gulp, not talking back anymore because if you open your mouth you have no idea what sounds will come out, and try to concentrate on the screen. It’s not easy when your brain stopped working twenty minutes ago and when Doyoung fingers are fucking into you. They’re long and slender and even if the position it’s not the best, he knows what he’s doing, curling them while his thumb rubs your clit. 

“Doyoung —” you mutter, clenching your hand in a fist. 

“Yes, honey? Need help?” 

“I can’t — I can’t do this,” you whisper, looking for his eyes and begging him to have mercy. 

“Fine, can you at least pretend you’re doing something?” He asks, hot breath hitting your ear as he leans closer. 

“Yeah, I’ll — I’ll pretend I’m reading,” you hum, scrolling on the page in front of you, making him laugh. 

“Good girl,” he says, quickening the pace of his fingers inside you. “Ah, don’t be loud. I think you don’t want to get kicked out, right?” 

You shake your head and dry to keep quiet, shamelessly spreading your legs more and placing one on top of his thigh to give him more access. Doyoung snickers, looking down and shaking his head. 

“You’re so desperate, I thought you were a classy girl.” 

“Shut up and make me come already,” you retort. “If you can.” 

That comment hits him more than he would like to admit, too driven by competition he starts moving his fingers faster, rubbing your clit quicker, while his other hand reaches for your boobs, pushing the top down. 

“Do—” 

“Quiet,” he shuts you up. “Shut up and nothing will happen.” 

You do as he says, and only look down in disbelief as he starts teasing your nipples too, adding to the stimulation. And that, plus the fear of being caught, pushes you to the edge. 

“Let’s go, now,” Doyoung orders once his fingers are out of you and your top is back in its place. Shutting your laptop with no care and urging you to put it back in the bag. 

“But the project?” 

“Fuck the project, I need to fuck you first.” 

The way to his place is a blur, just like the walk to the bedroom. Things are a bit clearer when you two are almost ripping each other clothes off while kissing roughly and messily and not losing the occasion of bickering. 

“Gonna fuck you so good you won’t even think of talking back to me,” he says — promise or threat, it’s up to you to decide — while he pushes you down on the mattress. 

“You’re only good at talking but never acting, it would be so nice if for once you proved something, you know?” You don’t expect him to do just that, the only verbal thing coming from his mouth being a low groan before he pushes his dick into you, leaving you gasping for air. 

“Don’t test me, ever again,” Doyoung groans, and then his hips start picking a rhythm, pushing your legs up. And you won’t do that, not because he threatened you — and if this is what you get, is it really a threat? — but because God, if he’s good at this. It’s like everything you’ve fantasized about and more, and you feel like you could melt on the spot. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he murmurs. “And I hate it so much.” 

“Yeah, you sure hate it so much,” you tease, voice barely higher than a whisper. 

“Still got the energy to talk? Do I have to be rougher with you?” 

“No, maybe just better,” you wink mockingly, and he throws his head back while groaning annoyed. 

“Anything for you,” he replies sarcastically, and in a second you see stars. One hand pins you down by the hip, the other one rubs your clit, while his lips wrap around your nipple, and his hips keep fucking deep into you. If you weren’t so touch-starved… maybe… or maybe not, maybe it is just him, your enemy, the man that made your college life the worst competition you’ve ever been into, maybe it is just him, Kim Doyoung. 

“So pretty when you’re like this, look at you,” he praises, staring at your blissed face. “So much better when we don’t fight, don’t you think so?” 

You hum, mindlessly and weakly, feeling the familiar feeling build up again and you immediately search for his hand. 

Enemies don’t hold hands, right? But he locks his fingers with yours anyway as he feels the orgasm build up. 

And right when you feel so close to the high, his lips meet yours again, kissing you… passionately. There’s nothing of the roughness of the first kisses, and you start to feel delicateness even in the way his hand is rubbing circles on your hips. And those soft gestures make you lose control. You come, pussy squeezing hard around him, triggering his orgasm too, as he mumbles words you don’t care to understand. 

When the pleasure dies down, he rolls from on top of you, falling at your side. But you can feel he’s looking at you even if you’re staring at the ceiling, trying to take your breath. 

“I think we could…” Doyoung starts, turning to the side even with his batter to look at you better, “…we could, you know, stop with all this fighting.”

“Yes, I’m free tomorrow for a date,” you reply, turning to look at him. 

Doyoung’s cheeks redden but he shakes his head. “I didn’t — I didn’t ask you for a date.” 

“So, are you saying no to my date?” 

He gulps, eyes falling on your lips before moving to your eyes again. A fond smile on his face. “No, I’m just a bad liar.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#anon answered #doyoung hard hours #doyoung smut #kim doyoung smut #doyoung scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct smut