#Em's a fuckboy

[redacted-metallum]

why do they.... display the engines like this...

[gncrezan]

AHHHH i am too!!! literally can never find other nepali people about omg :DD

HOROORORAAYYY OH MY GOD!!!! apologies for stalking your blog and then the IF u are writing i migiht get worse now that i get my hands on nepalese-written characters and AN ACTUAL NEPALI CHARACTER I THINK??? (MIN? :") !!!!) anyways have some specific niche nepali comics/sketches that i drew like months ago . it's all nick wiseman/oc stuff (not sure if you have played mind blind?? so sorry that i'm throwing this at you cause im like omg u will understand)

hope this wasn't too insanely self indulgent of me to throw at you, nick-laila have almost been stolen away from mind blind atp and they're being churned into their own thing LOL

also glad to know someone will understand the perfect nepali man that i've created all for myself, wherein i project the perfect nepali daughter onto a man. this is #gender. like i do think if a man made selroti from scratch it wouldn't even take 5 minutes i'd be in love. is the bar on the floor? maybe. but good selroti is literally worth everything

[clonecylinderjuice]

Fives and Anakin would be the cringest couple ever. Fives would comm Anakin "that body of yours is insane 😩🫦" and Anakin would eat it up unironically

[whotookmysenbon]

Can I just gaze at your face, counting each and every freckle while feeding you dango? Maybe some head scratches. Is that alright with you?

Hmmm…. Counter offer, you take me on a regular dango date and then we head to my place for tea? 10:30 tomorrow morning at that little shop on the corner of the marketplace, I’ll be waiting~ ;)

[mythvoiced]

-. About Eren's connections and whom I personally believed Eren had felt the closest to and whom he might have grown closest to in the healthiest way given the opportunity to do so aka none of the fking story happening lmao. PART 1 because there are loadsa characters and I love doing this, I LOVE LOVE LOVE--

This is NOT SHIPPING RELATED, I don't have anything against shipping (within legal and moral frames), but this post just isn't about that.

Reiner - That Eren idolised Reiner to some small extent is basically confirmed via his reaction to the Reveal, Reiner was a cool not-older-but-older-seeming kid whom Eren looked up to; his brotherly, protective demeanour and the absolute Himbo-ness of his attitude captivated Eren in a way, made him feel (and sometimes even act) like that fricking Spider-man meme. Large puppy dog eyes, 'this guy is so cool!', getting his heart broken by that Reveal absolutely annihilated my heart. That was his guy, his bro, the target of his starry-eyed gaze, dammit Reiner. (I said not shipping related, but I do sometimes like to believe Eren had a crush on this silly-ass goon)

Jean - Do not even look at me, if you've heard me go off about AoT before, chances are you know Jean is my favourite character and ALSO I believe him to be the... best character, as well, morally speaking. He's definitely the most genuine and humane, let me tell you that. But that's besides the point, one thing I am convinced of is that had Eren been given the opportunity to befriend Jean beyond the friendship we see on screen, if we'd gotten to have these two close enough that Eren would confide in Jean, none of the bullshit later down the line would have happened. Jean has the personality type that would get Eren to Stop™. He's honest, he's genuine, he's kind, he's highly intelligent, he cares So Much (I LOVE JEAN), and he's not going to treat you softly when you need some cold hard facts thrown your way. Jean & Eren could have been a fucking Tag Team, dammit. None would have done it like them. If you're seeing this in the tags, @g1gant is a phenomenal fucking Jean I violently recommend Nassy's portrayal, I'm kissing it.

Armin - Armin is Eren's canonical best friend, but part of me believes this friendship was initially born out of a subconscious desire to protect the other. In a way, I do believe these two are that Onion Headline of 'Best Friends Secretly Think Of The Other as Sidekick'. Eren & Armin both seem to believe the other needs them to get through life, which only implies a very firm perception they have of each other that doesn't allow for a lot of deviating from it. They're close, and Armin has a pretty solid understanding of some aspects of Eren's psyche, but I wouldn't say they know each other very deeply. I'd even go as far as saying Armin has a rational understanding of Eren, but his impression of him rules over any new realisations he might have been able to make. He assesses Eren the way he assesses most things.

Mikasa - I might get hate if I write anything here lmao (but I will if prompted, I love starting Mikasa-related shit)

Levi - Levi Ackerman's role in Eren's life is a fucking rabbit hole of fandom nonsense I will not allow myself to perish in, so I'll be quick: Levi is one of the many adults who judge Eren according to his purpose, his usefulness, and/or his threat level to the cause, and he's an ass to him, but he's one of the few adults who, once he's done assessing him, actually remembers he's talking to a kid, and for that he gets bonus points. Eren idolised him and meeting his idol and getting a reality check that deeply fucks with his parasocial relationship to him was good for his mental health, and I do believe adult Eren and Levi would have been good work partners, but... you know. Yeah, I think he's the best adult in Eren's life. But looking at the facts, it's like calling him the tallest dwarf, you know what I mean? Yeah. The adults in AoT suck ass oh god.

And that's all I got for now, I stopped everything I was doing because I couldn't stop thinking about this. Now I gotta go back to... doing things.

[eiightysixbaby]

em this destroyed me oh my god

even if it’s a false god — e.m.

part two; we'd still worship this love

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI or ill bite u. p in v, cr*ampie, kinda br*eding kink, unprotected s*x (wrap it up irl angels, this is fiction.), angst angst angst, ASSHOLE FBOY EDDIE!!!, drinking, degrading, swearing, praises, nicknames, vv slight ch*king kink if u squint, some rough stuff.

summary: in which you are friends with benefits with modern!fuckboy!eddie (wc:4.1k)

a/n: i was def thinking of a pt.2 for this while writing it tbh. mr asshole munson needs to repair some hearts!!! also i made the pic in the middle bc i couldn't find a fitting picture w this lyric lmaooo!! did not proof-read!! ignore any mistakes AND PLSS send me ur thoughts ily xo, em

“It was fun babysitting you, sweetheart, but I have to dip,” Steve whispered in your ear with a sympathetic smile, his hand pointing toward the blonde who was impatiently waiting for him. 

“What?” You asked, baffled. “Steve, you fucking promised!” You groaned. 

“Jesus Christ, do you not have any ounce of self-control?” He asked, and you gave him an intense look.

“Obviously not!” You huffed, arms crossing against your chest, causing Steve to chuckle. 

“Robin will come back eventually! And in the mean time, just stay the fuck away from him,” He warned. 

“Now, I gotta get laid.” He winked. You tried to open your mouth, but he interrupted. “I swear to god, Y/N, I don’t wanna hear another word from you, you’ve cockblocked me enough this week.” He said, annoyed.

You rolled your eyes, huffing as you stood straight, “Fine! Have fun.” You exclaimed, and Steve grinned, “I will, sweetheart. And you, just... hide from him or something.” He shrugged as he guided the blonde girl out of the door. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

You were pathetic, asking for Steve and Robin to babysit you, so that you wouldn’t end up under Eddie again, so that you could at least save some of the self-respect that you were sure probably didn’t exist at this point. 

They knew each time you said you were done with him, it was a lie. They knew you’d go back for more, but now it had been two weeks—two whole weeks—where you managed to stay away from him, blocking him for good. 

And you could feel yourself cracking; you wanted—needed—him with every fiber of your being, and it was driving you crazy. 

He drew you in with whatever he did, like a magnet always pulling you toward him, making you need to be around him, at all times.

You missed the way his hands grazed your thighs, the way he fucked you so rough and senselessly, but also so gently. The way his pretty mouth framed compliments so fucking sweetly, but turned dirty the moment he was pounding into you, praising you but degrading you at the same time. 

He was so good at fucking, but was shit at everything else.

Just like you.

So the idea of being friends with benefits sounded like heaven when you first suggested it. No feelings attached, no exclusivity, just fucking each other's brains out while also having someone to chat with afterward.

It was supposed to be simple—so fucking simple. 

But the moment feelings got involved, it turned out for the worst. Jealousy was a bitter monster that gnawed at the insides of the two of you, and it had turned into something so incredibly toxic that you knew you had to end it. Your friendship was long gone now, turning into a bitter competition where you either fucked or argued.

Exclusivity was not something the two of you ever discussed, you knew you were bad at relationships, and Eddie knew he wasn’t good at feelings, so it was a topic you always danced around. Arguments ensued the moment one of you fucked someone else, and bitterness was present in your veins like it had always been there. 

When Eddie decided to fuck another girl two weeks ago, you decided you were done. This wasn’t good for the both of you, and you needed to stop it as fast as you could. 

You knew the emptiness you felt right after you fucked was not worth it, no matter how good Eddie was.  

You were tired of sobbing into Steve’s chest drunkenly, confused about what you even felt for Eddie when he was out there fucking another girl. 

It was starting to leave a bad taste in your mouth, and you didn’t want to hate Eddie—not more than you already did at the moment. 

But there stood Eddie, curly hair laid messily on his forehead as a guitar pick adorned his neck, his infamous leather jacket paired with those black pants were your nightmare—dream—combo, he was sprawled on the couch, thick thighs spread apart, you wished you could part them further with your hands, rub him through his pants as you got down on your knees for him, giving his delicious pink-tip kitten licks as you tasted his salty pre-cum—

What the fuck was wrong with you? You shook your head as you turned around immediately, gazing into your empty cup as you hurried off to the kitchen. 

Your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment, you seriously had no fucking self-control or respect. 

“You need any help?” Eddie’s voice rang in your ear.

“‘M fine,” You muttered, voice barely audible. 

“You know I’ve been lookin’ for you.”

“Why? Did you finally run out of girls to fuck on campus?” You said snarkily, a smirk tugging on your lips. 

“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent now, sweetheart.” He tssked, causing you to throw him a quizzed look.

“Didn’t you go home with Mr. Jock last week?” He was being possessive again, and you hated how it picked up your heart rate, you were stupid.

“So?” You quirked a brow, teasing him, and he gave you a slight chuckle.

That smug asshole, why did he have to always look so good?

“So…how was it?” He asked, and you could feel his jaw tensing as he took a step closer to you, trapping you between the drink stand and his body.

“You’re disgusting.” You groaned as you pushed him away from your face. You were not going to give in.

“That bad, huh?” He mocked, scrunching his nose.

You rolled your eyes. “No.” You lied.

It was bad, really fucking bad; the guy lasted 30 seconds and left you with nothing. That greedy bastard.

But you weren’t going to let Eddie know that.

“He was really good, actually.” You were lying through your teeth, and thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem to notice. An intense rage flashed through his eyes.

“You sayin’ that punk is better than me?” He slurred into your ear, his breath ragged and hot as it fanned against your neck. He smelled so fucking addicting—a mix of sandalwood and nicotine, earthy and making you crave him at the same time. 

You don’t even know how he even came to that conclusion, but it was funny, seeing him like this, nostrils flaring as rage filled his veins, like he was in torture hearing about the guys you fucked, he deserved that.

But your silence at his question meant everything to him; he didn’t need an answer. You knew he was better, and he knew that you were crawling closer to his palm now.

He grew more confident because of the way you stuck to him. “I've seen him in the locker room, sweetheart. He’s not that fuckin’ impressive.” You didn’t mean to gasp, but it slipped past your lips quickly.

“Munson!” You warned, a smile tugged on your lips, and you realized how pathetic you were being again, but it was too late now. 

“Don’t think he can make you smile like I do, either.” He grinned smugly, his calloused hands quick to pull the strand of hair on your face, to see the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, so fucking promising.

“You're a jerk,” You spat, groaning as you turned around, trying to avoid him, but it was no use; the damage was done, and you were putty in his hands again.  

He had a tight hold on your arm, possessive again, and you were sick for enjoying his rough side. He spun you around to meet him, eyes dark, before he held you in place. “A jerk who makes you feel good,” Eddie purred in your ear, fingers tracing toward your exposed skin, one touch from him, and you whimpered, all that anger fading away so quickly.

He chuckled darkly. “Missed those sweet lil’ whimpers,” He whispered in your ear again, fingers quick to find their way toward your panties. 

He drew slow circles with his thumb while you tried to remain tight-lipped, but it was impossible. 

“Jesus—fuck, Eddie som—someone could see...” You didn’t mean to throw your head back against the wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Eddie shrugged. 

“Don’t care, sweetheart.” 

“Well, I do.” You didn’t; Eddie could fuck you right here, right now, and you’d be fine with it, but you weren’t ready to admit this to yourself, and you didn’t want to take the chance of Robin seeing you like this. 

He groaned as he dragged you into the nearest room. You would’ve cried at the loss of contact if he didn’t have a tight hold on your body, calloused hands gripping at your curves, and your thighs rubbed together at his touch. 

Eddie was quick to pin you against the door, his hand curling around the back of your neck. He smashed his lips against yours without hesitating, kissing you the same way he made you feel; explosive, hard, and dizzying. 

He pulled back to look at you. 

Sweet Jesus.

His gaze was intense, and it made you feel so fucking exposed that it startled a gasp out of your lips. 

You fisted his shirt when you had enough, yanking him closer to you so that you could feel his body pressed into yours. Everything you felt was pure hunger, craving him deeply.  

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you felt his rock hard bulge grinding against you, calloused hands gripped your ass as you whimpered; you were at his mercy now. 

“What were you sayin’ last time? That this would never happen again?” He mocked, whispering against your face, his gaze never leaving you. 

Your eyes narrowed, but it was impossible to keep up your act when his fingers started ghosting over your thighs again. “Fuck. You.” You spat. 

“You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.” He grinned, chuckling when you whimpered under his touch.

“God, I love those sweet noises you make for me…” He murmured, you rubbed your thighs again at his words. “I bet if I flipped that little skirt of yours… I’d find you gushing for me.” He groaned. 

And you remained tight-lipped. God, you didn’t want to feed into his huge fucking ego, and you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. 

But he was so right. Your thighs were dampened by how aroused you were. 

He was quick to slip his fingers past your panties, a grunt escaping his lips once he pushed past your folds, your slick covering his fingers. He chuckled darkly. “You’re soaking my fingers, honey.”

“I—Fuck—I hate you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, and Eddie reveled in it, his fingers pushing inside of you while his thumb stayed on your clit. 

“Always sayin’ shit you don’t mean, baby.” He mocked. “Gonna make you beg for my cock, if you keep’ talkin like that.” 

You were panting and head dizzy as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You were going to lose it, and he had barely started.

When he finally undressed both of you, you were out of it, while his hands were still on your clit as he groaned at the sight in front of him. 

You were perfect. 

His breath was ragged when he traced your chest, eyes bulging when he realized you had no bra on, pleasure ignited in you more and more when he cupped your breasts, teeth tugging your nipple as his fingers still toyed with your clit.

“Perfect tits, just made for me, huh?” He growled, making you mewl; you were putty in his hands, and with each movement, you were getting closer and closer to beg him for more. 

The more you whimpered, the rougher he got with you, curling his finger inside your cunt as he hit that one spot, eliciting a moan from you as you threw your head back.

“P—please.” You whimpered, and Eddie tutted. 

“I’ve seen you do much better than that.” He hummed. This arrogant asshole was going to be the death of you. 

“P—please, Eds, please.” You begged, and your moans died down your throat, before he slowly dragged his fingers out and shoved them back in. 

Your head cocked to the side in pleasure, and he was quick to take advantage of it, licking a path from your neck to your ear, grinning. 

“Mhmm… not good enough, baby.” He purred in your ear as you whined, “Jesus fucking Christ—” Your cursing was interrupted when he yanked his hands away. 

No. No. No. No!

“Shitshitshit—Please, Fuck, Eds...” You murmured, eyes shooting wide open, “Need your cock inside’a me.” You mewled again. 

His dark chuckle reverberated through you, “See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” He mocked, causing your eyes to narrow. 

“You assho—” He didn’t let you finish as he wrapped his hands around your throat, just enough to punish you but just enough for pleasure to course through your veins. And it felt so fucking good. 

You shut your mouth quickly, “What were you saying, baby?” He purred. 

God, that egotistic prick was pushing you to your last fucking limit; you could do it, you could hold it off. But on the other hand, you could feel yourself pulsing with need; if he didn’t pound into you soon, you knew you would’ve been a pathetic blabbering mess.

“Please, please, Fuck me,” You grunted. “I need you, Eddie.” He didn’t respond as he tapped your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his chest, and you were quick to oblige. 

Mind spinning before you got a chance to process what happened, he slammed into you with a vicious thrust, he was so fucking thick that it made you let out a guttural scream, tears welled at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his size. 

It wasn’t long before your loud noises turned into incoherent babbles and squeals as he kept his pace.

“Holy shit, baby,” He groaned, watching his cock sliding into you, “Such a warm fuckin’ pussy, and so fucking tight… Jesus…”

You trembled beneath him, tits bouncing up and down as your mouth hung open each time he slid further into your cunt, and Eddie wanted that image etched into his brain forever. 

He tilted you upward, hitting spots you weren’t even aware of. You were quick to wrap your hands around his frame, your nails digging into his back, roughly.

He was the only one who knew you like that; both emotionally and physically, and the same went for you, that’s why the two of you never could truly let each go, clinging to each other like a child did to their favorite toy.

You know no one else could fuck you like he did, and that smug bastard knew it, too.

The way he was pounding into you while uttering curses at your ear, furiously slapping into your body as if you were nothing but his personal fucktoy, truly his.

And you realized how sick you were for liking it, truly enjoying being this way with him. 

“You look so fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock, such a tight fuckin’ pussy and all mine, yea?” He panted causing you to nod, you were barely able hold his gaze, and he groaned before his hands roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcing your head in his direction. 

“Look at me baby…” He purred, “Look, how well your cunt is squeezin’ me. You feel that, peach?” He sheathed himself further into you, and you could feel your walls clench around him, a contented groan leaving both of your lips. 

It was fucking perfect. Everything was rough and messy, there was nothing emotional about the way you fucked. You were both using each other to cum as much as you wanted to, not stopping until you were both sweaty bodies.

He could make you come apart in seconds if he wanted to, knowing your body better than anyone else. And you could make the scary freak Eddie putty in your hands if you wanted to; it was a fucked up game of control that had the two of you going at it for hours. 

Was it fucked up? Yes.

Did it feel good? Absolutely. 

“Would that asshole be able to make you come apart like this?” He asked, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave a bruise.

This wasn’t the first time Eddie had been possessive; it was a sick, twisted game that you also participated in, almost as if both of you knew that you could never be with anyone else.

You nodded mindlessly, you weren’t going to give into him that easily, again, he grunted at your lack of reaction. 

“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his pounding slowing down to make sure your orgasm was out of reach for you, torturing you until he had you begging under him.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to give up this fast. “Beg me, honey.” His movements picked up, and his hands were quick to toy with your clit, a sharp burst of euphoria rang through your body, leaving you speechless. 

You clenched around him—a big fucking mistake—and he grinned smuggly again. “I know, baby, I know you’re close.” He panted. “I can make you cum, angel.” He promised, “Just say the word.” 

“Asshole,” You groaned between his forceful thrusts, and he chuckled darkly. You rolled your hips against his when his movements faltered, seeking the warmth and the friction when he thrusted into you fully, filling you to the brim.

And that prick was thoroughly enjoying your torture. “Tell me it’s all mine, that you’re all mine.” He purred against your ear. 

You couldn’t. You shouldn’t.

But the way his thumb circled around your clit, so agonizingly slow, and the way his cock was prodding into you so slowly was torture. God, if he just picked up his pace.

Don’t. 

You try to convince yourself, but it's to no avail, you are clenching down on nothing, and it hurts. Your hole is pulsing now, and you need him more than ever. 

“P—please,” You mewled, causing Eddie to give you a slight smirk. “Please what, baby? Use your words.” 

“I’m all yours,” You murmured, “He could never fuck me like you could.” You added, humming contently, when Eddie started to pound into you relentlessly again. 

“Please—I need to—Jesus, Eds.” Your words slurred into a moan as he increased his speed, his finger circling your clit roughly. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He panted.  “Please—please make me cum, sir.” You sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore. 

And that was all Eddie needed to hear. “Cum for me, honey.” He pleaded, and you gave him low whimpers as he started fucking you faster again, watching the way his cock disappeared into your gushing cunt.

“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby.” He breathed. 

“Shit, feels so good, Eds.” 

“Jesus—Please… I’m going to—” You bit down on your lower lip, unable to stifle the moans leaving your lips as his assault on your clit was enough to bring you over the edge, 

“I’m gonna—I’m…Holy shit, oh god!” You sobbed, whole body convulsing in pleasure as you came around his cock, your vision blurred and mind foggy as you didn’t realize how your orgasm was triggering his. 

Eddie was whimpering for you now, “So fucking good, holy shit.” He panted, movements getting sloppier.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby. My perfect fucking girl, yea?” He heaved a breath. 

“I’m gonna fuck this—Gonna fuck my load into you, peach.”

“Gonna fill you with my cum—Fuuuck.” He growled, animalistic noises escaping him as he exploded inside of you, thick ropes of his warm cum painting your walls. 

He groaned when he slipped out, mouth-watering as he enjoyed the sight of you fucked out of your mind, and his load dripping down your thighs. 

The relief you had was short-lived as that sinking feeling came to you again, the emptiness, the loneliness.

Was all of it worth it?

The two of you dressed in silence; the weight of what you did was hitting you all at once. You did it again. You had sex with him again. You let him use you again—it didn’t matter if you used him too, it meant something different for you than it did for him.

All those thoughts you had about feeling good faded out quicker than you thought they would.

You were so fucking pathetic.

Jesus Christ.

You felt sick, what the fuck did you just do?

As soon as Eddie got dressed, he gave your cheek a sloppy kiss. He was going to leave you all alone again.

You should be fine with this, this is what always happens.

Don’t—don’t say anything, just take your last bit of self-respect that is possibly non-existent and leave without another word—

“You’re…leaving?” You exhale, your mind racing with ideas.

Shit. Just shut the fuck up.

“Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart.” He gave you a slight smile, but all you wanted to do was slap it out of him.

“We both know what this was.” He muttered, that conceited dickhead still had that smile on his face.

“And what exactly was ‘this’?” You pointed to the space between the two of you.

“Fucking, no strings attached?” He added, shrugging. The fact that he had no clue about anything was pissing you off.

“Unbelievable.” You gave him a dry chuckle.

“What?” He asked, baffled.

“Is that all I am to you, just a warm body?” You said, face crinkling with disgust.

“I’m confused.” Eddie said. “You—you were the one who fucking suggested this.” He breathed.

“Well, I’m un-suggesting it!” You exclaimed angrily.

“You—you are so fucking confusing!” He spat. “I told you—I told you we could be more... told you we could try... us.” He stuttered. “You were the one who refused!”

“You were drunk! You can barely fucking say it now!” You spat back.

“What... what do you even want, Y/N?” He asked, holding his gaze.

“Do you want a relationship? Do you want something meaningful?” He pondered, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips.

“Is it so wrong for me to want that? To want something real?” Your voice carried so much emotion, and that’s what killed him.

He couldn’t have a relationship with you even if he wanted to; he recognized his own turmoil, and he feared he would drag you right down with him. No matter how similar you seemed to be, he was sure he’d ruin you, completely and utterly. And not in a good way.

He swallowed physically; the lump in his throat wasn’t going to go away.

He couldn’t let you have hope; he couldn’t let you down again—he had done that enough.

''A relationship with you is the last thing I see myself doing.'' He almost whispered, but you heard it loud and clear.

Your brows were quick to furrow, and your jaw was was set in a tense manner. The lust in your gaze was long gone by now, containing only rage while you glared at the source of your pain.

“Fuck. You.” You spat, tears threatening to spill but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction

“You are a sadistic fucking asshole, Munson.” 

“Jesus… I think we should stop—whatever the hell, this is.” He exclaimed.

“Fine by me!” You exclaimed back cheeks heating up from anger.

“I really am done with you, this time.” Despite the intensity of your gaze, he could sense the subtle vulnerability in your eyes. The subtle pain that was fueling your anger

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He chuckled smugly. This was something you two had joked about before, but it wasn’t funny now.

He saw you in the palm of his hand because you always came back to him, he was right… until now.

The fact that he laughed in your face at the thought of being in a relationship with you was too much, even for your low self-esteem. 

“I don’t care what you think.” You didn’t even hold the rage you held before; only disgust was visible in your tone.

“You’re dead to me.” You replied curtly, your voice distant and chilling.

And Eddie knew how much he fucked up, truly.

There was nothing he could do now.

“I didn’t mean it like—” He regretted what he said immediately, but you dismissed his protests, gathering your jacket in your hand as you slammed the door behind you.

Tears blurred your vision as soon as you left, the lively sound of the party clouded your mind as you silently sobbed, trying to find Robin.

You knew how unattainable he was, and how much he truly hurt you, and as fucked up as it was, that's exactly why you loved him; led by blind faith that it would be different.

[anditwentlikethis]

agora é que reparei, mas se olhares bem para a cara dele o Ricardo Velho parece um fuckboy 💀

estive a analisar imagens e não posso discordar

[chikoyama]

(( life update: *takes a shovel and digs my own grave* guys, you're invited to my funeral, and we're gonna have a party on top of my grave. trap queen will be played as testimonial to my existence. ))

[thr4ce]

thinks... a lot... about how kara's two primary deities/lords are artemis and aphrodite. thinks about how she engages most often with the lady of the hunt. how she probably prays to artemis every single time she's in the tubes, if only in a casual/cursory way. may my arrow strike true.

[theagstd]

list of fan fic recommendations by AU

these are fan fictions that i've read / yet to read that i've organised so it's easier to find them. all the fics are super cool and non-cringe so you've definitely got to read em.

so far i've updated some of the jjk fan fics, there's more to update which i'll do later during this week. pjm and myg fics will also be updated.

wattpad fics will be updated in this list too.

and i'll be updating them at the end of every month when i come across new fics.

Jeon Jungkook fics

best friends/childhood friends AU

brother's bestfriend/bestfriend's boyfriend AU

bodyguard AU

boxer/gangster AU

ceo AU

co-workers AU

single parent AU

enemies to lovers AU

exes to lovers AU

fantasy AU

fake dating AU

fuckboy/fratboy AU

friends with benefits/fuck buddies AU

idol/popstar/celeb AU

hybrid AU

neighbors AU

roommates AU

strangers to lovers AU

soulmates AU

teacher AU

yandere AU

other jobs (tattooist/baker/sugar baby/racer etc) AU

Park Jimin fics

best friends/childhood friends AU

brother's bestfriend AU

ceo AU

college AU

co-workers AU

enemies to lovers AU

exes to lovers AU

fantasy AU

fake dating AU

fuckboy AU

friends with benefits/fuck buddies AU

idol/popstar/celeb AU

hybrid AU

neighbors AU

parents AU

single dad AU

strangers to lovers AU

sugar daddy AU

soulmates AU

yandere AU

other jobs (stripper/racer/doctor/stalker etc) AU

Min Yoongi fics

will be updating....!

[whorekneecentral]

Tis' The Season

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: old friends reappear, flashbacks in italics, complicated relationships, expensive gifts cause it's lew lew duh, uses roscoe as an in, brocedes mention, alcohol and the consumption of, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, creampie, soft moments at be end.

Word Count: 2,668

Author's Note: love me some lew lew and he gives fuckboy turned lover boy so here we areeeeee

merry smutmas series

--

An old friend finds his way to your front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t. 

A knock on the door startles you as you hung the ornament on your Christmas tree. You shout that you're coming, grabbing your wallet out of your purse, as you jog to your front door. You assumed it was your take-out delivery guy and that's not who it was when you opened the door.

The man smiles at you, bags in hand and puppy between his legs. "Hi beautiful," Lewis smiles at you, bundled up in his winter coat.

You huff, looking at him. "Hi Lewis.. what are you doing here?"

He lifts the bags, showing you. "Happy holidays, y/n. I come bearing gifts."

"Seriously?" You hold back the urge to roll your eyes, Roscoe barks and gets your attention, you crouch down to pat his side, the dog leaning into your hand before waddling his way into the house. Lewis doesn't stop him, smiling at you.

"Are you gonna let me in, love? Roscoe is already inside, it'd be rude to let me freeze out here."

You don't have the heart to let them freeze, especially since you know how Roscoe loves him so much.

You let Lewis in, the man takes his shoes off by the door and follows you down the hallway to the living room. Roscoe had already made himself comfortable, shaking off the cold, and lying down by the fireplace. Despite you and Lewis not talking for years, you had left Roscoe's dog bed by the fireplace, as it had always been, picking it up to clean and setting it back in its spot.

Lewis sets the bags on the coffee table, hanging his coat off the arm rest of your couch. "I didn't know if you still live here."

"Well now that you do, I'll have to move, won't I?"

He chuckles, smiling to himself - nice to see your sense of humour has remained.

"Go on, open 'em." He nods towards the gifts on the table. You were adjusting an ornament on the tree, "I don't want it, Lewis."

"Oh hush, don't be annoying, y/n. Just open it."

You rolled your eyes, sitting across from him on the couch and picking up the first bag, the shape was a give away. Carefully, you pulled the bottle of wine out of the bag, some expensive French wine that you two had once upon a time when you took a trip to France. You read the label, setting it down on the table gently.

"Expensive," you eye him and he smiles. "Open the other one." He says quietly, watching as you tear the wrapping paper.

You freeze, the orange box staring back at you, the signature black and white ribbon around the box; Hermes Paris written across the top.

"Lewis.." You look at the man and he nods, waiting for you to go on. You carefully undo the ribbon, taking the lid off of the box. There's clearly a bag in the box, wrapped in a dust bag.

You feel underdressed and dirty, as if you should have showered before opening such a gift. You take the purse out of the dust bag, a Birkin in Bougainvillea - the same shade you had seen so many years ago.

His arm rested over your shoulders, the two of you cuddled on the couch as Lewis flipped through the tv channels. Formula One had wrapped up for the 2008 season and your dearest friend Lewis was now a Formula One world champion.

You, on the other hand, were still in med school.

Lewis had come home for the holidays, a yearly tradition of trashy Christmas movies and Chinese take out had commenced, Lewis picking out something for you two to watch as you flipped through the magazine.

"This one," you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder. "I want this one." You show him the bright pink Birkin bag - in the shade Bougainvillea. It's unrealistically, shockingly pink but it was the newest colour in the collection and you wanted it.

"I'm gonna get this for myself when I finish med school and I'm a rich surgeon."

Lewis smiles, "I'll get it for you, love. No need to wait so long, consider it your med school graduation gift." He kisses your head.

They don't make this colour anymore, you're sure it must have cost Lewis a fortune. "How did you even.. they don't make this colour anymore." You examined the bag, setting it back into the dust bag carefully.

"I know people, y/n."

You hum, "it's too much."

"It's your gift, y/n. I promised you, didn't I?"

You smiled, nodding as you carefully set the bag back into the box. "Thank you Lew, really."

The man smiles, it's been years since he's heard you call him Lewis. You two had a falling out a while back, right after his first championship win with Mercedes - you didn't like the way he treated you, pushed you off to the side as if you hadn't been there for him through it all. Lewis was and still is career driven, it has and will always take first priority to him but it ruined your friendship and it had ruined the same special bond he had with Nico.

In this moment, you let all that go.

The doorbell rings, intruding on your thoughts. "Expecting someone?" Lewis asks, glancing at you as you set the Hermes box on the coffee table.

"No.. oh wait yeah, the take out guy." You say, getting up. Lewis waves you off, getting up and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. "I'm not a broke med student anymore, Lewis. I can afford to pay for dinner."

"As can I, so hush." He says, making his way down the foyer to the front door, paying the man.

You can hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, the man thanks him before the door shuts.

The bags are taken to the kitchen and you see him looking around, clearly looking for something. You decide to put him out of his misery, getting up to help him look for plates. Lewis stops, leaning on the counter as he watches you get the dishes out of the cupboard.

"I'm sorry." He says, his words catching you off guard.

Your brows furrow, looking at him. "What for?"

"For everything. What happened in the past… That was between us and I know that it was my fault, and I shouldn't have said what I said, but I truly am sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I would just like to start over if you give me the chance."

"Okay," you nod, setting the plates on the table.

"Okay."

He joined you at the table, the two of you sitting quietly and eating dinner like you've done many times over the years. Tonight was different though, there was a sense of relief in the air as if this tension had been lifted off your shoulders after so many years. The quiet sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes and Roscoe's snores coming from the fireplace filled the house.

At some point after dinner, you were putting the dishes in the sink and Lewis asked if he should open a bottle of wine that he brought. You shrug, reaching into the cabinet to get the glasses while Lewis pulls the cork out of the bottle before filling the glasses half way.

The house is quiet as the two of you sit on the couch, Lewis handing you a glass of wine. It's a comfortable silence, Lewis takes a sip of his wine as he looks over at you; he can't help but notice how you've aged beautifully over the years, not in a you look old sort of way but the maturity you've come into seems to suit you perfectly.

Next to him, you seem to make the same realization but with him. Lewis what is a baby faced, starting to find himself boy when you two had you falling out. Now he was grown, and even more handsome than the day you had walked away from him.

You take the first step, setting the glass down on the coffee table before reaching for Lewis's glass, setting it with yours.

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife, the two of you sitting there in silence, inching closer and closer with each passing second until he finally closes the gap between the two of you.

Lewis's hands find your hips, the man pulling you onto his lap. You settle against him as if you had always been there. His lips trail down your neck, hands slipping under your shirt.

"No," you whispered, your hands wrapping around his wrists. Lewis looked at you confused, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"What?"

"We can't do this here."

"Why not?" He asks and you nod towards Roscoe, the dog still fast asleep by the fireplace.

Lewis can't help but laugh, his forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Love, he's asleep. It's fine."

"Oh my god," you smacked his shoulder, "that doesn't mean we're gonna fuck in front of him."

He raises an eyebrow, "we're gonna fuck?"

"Don't be a fuckboy, Lew." The man ignored your words, his arms wrapping around you, picking you up with ease, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom. Despite the years he hadn't spent there, nothing's changed.

Lewis drops you on the bed and you propped yourself up, watching him get undressed before he sits next to you, his hand cups your jaw and you smile at him. “Hi,” you whisper. 

“Hi,” he smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your nose and you scrunch it in response. “You’re cheeky.” 

“You love it,” he says, kissing your nose again. 

Lewis leans down a bit more and kisses you but you pull away, sliding off the bed. “We can't.” You tell him, about to walk away but he grabs your hips, pulling you to stand between his legs. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders, sliding up to rest on his jaw. His beard tickles the palm of your hand as you look at him. Lewis doesn't have to say anything and all the worries seem to slip away in the moment, it was as if you hadn't spent a single day apart.

The man pulls you down on top of him, his hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist as you sit yourself on his lap. 

“We-” you go to remind him once more but he cuts you off with a kiss. Lewis flips the two of you over, letting you lay on your back when he gets off the bed, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. 

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Lewis always fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire.

He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the lace you’re wrapped up in under your clothes and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor. He shifts to sit on his knees between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking; he wants you to look at him.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

Lewis knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Lewis gives in.

Two fingers pushing into you, Lewis glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. Lewis pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

Your chest heaving, your grip on his hair loosening now that you’re right on the edge, you’re almost there and he just has to - he’s stopped. 

“Why'd you stop?” You sit up, a pout on your lips when you look at the man between your legs. 

“Shush, you love hanging on the edge,” Lewis tells you with a smile, unbuttoning his pants. 

He lines himself up with you, and Lewis lets you take him little by little, pulling out almost all the way each time before finally pushing into you all the way. He's in charge and you both know it, letting him set the pace; slow and steady and it was driving you insane.

You needed him.

You didn’t want slow, you wanted it hard and messy, the type of fuck where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

“Lew, come on.” Your hand reaches to rest on his hand that’s on your hip. “Need more.”

“Do you?” He hums, moving a little faster.

You know giving him attitude won’t help but you can’t help but roll your eyes, “more than that.”

“Needy,” he calls, pulling you closer by your legs.

Finally, you get what you want, Lewis’s hips hitting the back of your thighs, he leans over you and your arms are pinned about your head, both legs up on his shoulders now. The angle was enough to push you over the edge but he didn’t care.

“Lew please-” you tried to wiggle your hands loose but he didn’t budge. 

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, mockingly, “isn't this what you wanted?” 

“It is, but-” your head tosses back, back arched when he hits the spot he was looking for. 

“Oh,” he coos, smiling at you. “Is my baby so fucked out, she can’t even tell me what she wants?” His thrusts are sloppy, you knew he was just as close as you were. 

“Gonna cum-” you barely get out between strangled moans. Lewis finally lets go of your wrists and one of his hands has wrapped around your throat.

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches for you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.

“Look at me when you cum.”

You’re forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, focusing on him. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge.  He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Lewis follows behind you. 

The two of you are still tangled together, laying in bed next to each other. Lewis looks over at you, you look back at him with a sleepy smile on your face.

"Should I.."

"Should you.." you trailed off, waiting to hear what he says. Lewis shrugs, "should I go home?"

You take a moment to think, not about kicking him out - that was never an option but perhaps the things that lead you here.

There's a noise from outside the door, a sort of scratching. Seems like Roscoe had woken up and came looking for you two. Lewis takes the hint, getting up to open the door for the dog. You put on your shirt and your panties and Lewis lets Roscoe in, the dog jumping up on the bed with some assistance from his dad.

Lewis gets under the covers with you, Roscoe settled at the edge of the bed. You look over at Lewis, his hand resting on yours.

"I think you should." You tell him quietly and Lewis's brows furrow, a pout forming on his lips. "I should?" He asks.

You nod, "you should stay."

Lewis lets out a soft sigh, smiling. His hand squeezes yours gently. "I'll stay."

---

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[reallyromealone]

Can I request an smiley x reader omegaverse like omega reader is Mikey’s sibling. Like the first time that smiley sees him he instantly knows that’s his fated omega but he has to go through Mikey to try and court reader plz and thank you.

Title: lover

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Sano family, Toman, smiley

Fic type: omegaverse

Pairings: smiley x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, Omega male reader, protective Sano siblings, fluff, cute, soulmate

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Mikey was always an overprotective brother, scaring off anyone who went near his siblings and (name) especially as the Omega was a cutie that grabbed everyone's attention much to his older brothers annoyances.

The Sano brothers always chased off suitors, keeping him away from gang shit but sometimes it was unavoidable.

"(Name), what are you doin' here?" Baji asked as (name) sat at the steps of the shrine doing his homework "Shinichiro doesn't need help at the shop and home was boring so Mikey dragged me here" (name) explained simply as mitsuya nodded "you never been to a meeting, have you?" He asked and (name) shook his head "nyope but Mikey would rather die than have be go out and about and Iza is busy with his own stuff so.... Here I am"

(Name) Met a few Toman higher ups, though (name) was usually helping shin or grandpa so this was one of his first times meeting a few people here.

(Name) Was curious as two motorcycles pulled up, a set of twins hopping off "so why the hell are we here?!" The pink haired one yelled out and (name) was entranced immediately, a small chirp leaving his lips and the smiling teen whipped his head around to see the Omega and a rumble left his throatbas the world halted for them, (name) feeling the need to get closer to the Alpha.

"Alpha..."

"NOPE ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

(Name) Snapped from his trance as Mikey looked ready to murder at the lovestruck look his brother was giving Smiley, he didn't want any fucker near his brother and definitely not one of the biggest Fuckboys in the gang. "(Name)! I will bring you home I swear to god!" Mikey barked and (name) rolled his eyes "oh please! I'm not doing anything!" He fired back and the blond groaned annoyed "just stop making eyes at my captain and smiley stop looking at him like that or I'll kick your ass!"

That did nothing, Everytime smiley shot the other a flirty glance, (name) smiled all flustered and that just egged the Alpha on further.

"I swear to fucking god!" And (name) went back to his homework.

"He is NEVER going to a meeting again!" Mikey said angrily as they got home, Izana glancing up as Emma and shinichiro made dinner "what happened?" The teen girl asked, tilting her head slightly and (name) pouted "I didn't do anything! Mikey is being dramatic!" (Name) Huffed as he sat beside Izana "Iza! Make Mikey stop being a drama queen"

Shinichiro looked at Draken who was leaning on the door frame "ken, what happened?"

"(Name) Met his dated pair" he said simply and the room was silent as Izana moved to sniff his brother "you don't smell like (scent)" the white haired man accused and they looked at him expectantly and (name) pouted as grandpa made a grunt "when do we get to meet em?" The old alpha asked and (name) huffed "after I get to meet him!"

"So you are trying to kill me!" Mikey cried and (name) rolled his eyes.

It wasn't till the following week that (name) saw smiley again, the two halting as (name) went to get groceries for dinner "it's you!" (Name) Was over the moon as the older kawata looked at him with a flirty grin "watch out now, Mikey might kick my ass" he teased and (name) huffed "he wouldn't dare" oh Mikey would but (name) in turn would throw shit at him.

Smiley walked with (name) around the store as they chatted, falling so easily into a routine as the Alpha kept his fated pair close as the Alpha paid for the other "you don't have to!" (Name) Looked guilt as smiley shrugged "not gonna let my mate pay for shit"

The two walked to the Sano house as shinichiro was reading a magazine on the engawa casually "OI! one foot apart you shits!" The eldest barked out and (name) pouted, the other two brothers poking their heads out and Mikey glared as Izana stared coldly at the elder twin "(name)! Didn't I say no dating till I'm dead!" Mikey grumbled out and (name) rolled his eyes "I'm older than you!" (Name) Fired back as the two squabbled leaving the eldest siblings to judge smiley "this house is traditional when it comes to courting, if you want to be with him it's not gonna be easy"

Shinichiro wanted his younger brother to date a nice alpha not.... Not smiley.

Anyone but smiley--- I'm almost anyone because he's seen the people his brothers hang out with.

Maybe like mitsuya, yeah mitsuya would treat him well.

And thus started the courting process, all dates had a a chaperone of one of the siblings, the two never getting to be alone (unless you count the times smiley snuck into (name)s bedroom so they could makeout) and the brothers judged any gift that smiley got (name) "looks cheap" they said but (name) was giddy at anything his mate to be got him.

(Name) Got him little trinkets and a cute bracelet set that the Omega seemed very proud of and Smiley wore the matching bracelets with pride.

"Where ya taking him"

"What are you gonna do?"

"Hope you booked a reservation for three"

Smiley was ready to throttle his close friend and his family but knew they were just worried about their pack Omega dating though thank fuck grandpa Sano was chill with him and actually seemed happy that (name) found his soulmate.

"These goofs are all planning on moving out, (name) is the only one who is interested in running the dojo" grandpa Sano said randomly while Smiley waited for him to finish getting ready "you're a good kid, I know what my boys do so I know you can hold your own" he continued and smiley for once wasn't so well... Smiley but instead Nahoya.

"So what do you want to do, after school?"

"My brother and I want to run our own ramen shop, we have a name for it and everything"

The old alpha hummed, seeming pleased with his response "hardworking young man, (name) is a strong young man, doesn't like to be tied to his omega status despite his brothers attempts... Let him do what makes him happy" the elder man asked him and nahoya nodded "if he wants something, I'll do whatever I can to provide it"

"Good, now (name)! Hurry up! You're making this young man wait forever!"

"I'm coming I'm coming!"

Grandpa Sano watched how much love was between them, he hoped he could get to live to see them get married.

Maybe even to see a few pups.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

sink, m | jjk

you left your hair tie, battin’ those eyes by the sink, you leave ‘em behind think I know why – 'hair tie' by ØZI

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends-with-benefits going downhill thanks to shitty communication; smut (fem reader, f and m-receiving oral, heavy petting, m-masturbation, ball spanking, spit kink, breath kink, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – fuckboy?Jungkook x rock fan!reader tired of his shit XD inspired by the song above and ofc I referenced 'Too Much' ;)

--

You left your hair tie by my sink again.

Oh, shit, my bad. I’ll pick it up next time I’m over. :)

You left him on read.

Went back to brushing your teeth, looking down on the clear hair tie by your sink. It was one of those squiggly ones that were meant to not leave ceases in the hair. Not one of those that could easily be secured on the wrist. He must have taken it out right after. Well. He had needed it. You would have opened the window to get that cool night air, but Jeon Jungkook was loud when he was fucking.

Hm.

He sweat a lot when he was fucking. All over his back and chest, his skin glistening in the rainbow starlight generated by your mood lamp. You didn’t really care if the lights were on or off. He liked mood lighting, so he bought it and left it in your room so he could turn it on when he wanted to turn you on. Always tried to act all cool about it, as if you didn’t know exactly what he wanted when he hit you up. As if he actually needed to talk to you in-person about the latest installment of the Marvel universe.

Uh huh.

Somehow your back had ended up against his chest. Somehow his mouth had ended up by your neck and somehow his hand had ended up sliding under your shirt. Can’t stay too late, he always said. Same lines to the same old story. You half-scoffed into the mirror, switching sides of your teeth. The same routine, accidentally knocking the light switch, somehow knowing exactly where in your nightstand the remote for the mood lighting was, and then it was clothes on the floor. Your hand around his wrist and your hot breath by his ear, the fuck you think you’re doing?

“What? Too much?” he had replied with a smirk.

The shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

Fuck it.

The hair tie must have been because he had planned to eat you out today. Precautions. He was better at it this time than the last. It wasn’t that his black hair was excessively long. A good amount simply fell past his ears when he leaned forward and, between your thighs, it stuck when he sweat. You might have lightly complained about it last time. Jungkook was self-conscious enough to remember and pull back the upper half of his hair before showing up at your doorstep. His own damn fault since he liked to plant his hands on your ass and drag you forward into his face, strong tongue consistently and firmly pressed to your clit and looking up at you with those round dark brown eyes of his. He had been trying to tease you but you saw right through him.

“A little higher up,” you had gently prompted.

The simmering waves danced through your veins as soon as he obeyed. Your hand had eventually found the back of his head. Crowning touch and locking your hips, feeling your slickness press against his lower lip and chin. The thought of your juices smeared into his double lip rings. Your tense thighs pressed into his jaw and cheeks. His long fingers sinking into the full curve of your ass.

The ghost of imprinted fingertips lingering on your skin.

You leaned over the sink bowl and spit out foam.

Jungkook had been truly annoying about it from the start. Needed to know that he was the best you had ever had. First kiss was an accident in the way that accidents don’t really happen. The kind of accident that was you getting into his face after he called you at three twenty-four in the morning and ordering you to stay on the line so he didn’t drunkenly pass out while walking home on a night out. He had even thrown up in some poor neighbor’s flowerbed mid-walk. The next day you had gone over to his place with take-out food and an annoyed attitude, confronting him after he had groggily brushed his teeth, smelling his minty breath as you scolded him that he was too old for this shit, right next to his bathroom sink.

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes had given you this look.

And you immediately knew how this was going to play out.

The kiss was to get you off my case, he said.

But.

“But… would you do it again?”

You rinsed your mouth out and applied your lip balm.

Not seeing yourself in the mirror, but instead seeing your shocked face from back then, squeezed between his bare arms and tasting the mint of his breath, strands of his black hair against your face. You remembered the way he smelled. Like warm, crystal-clear rain. The residual notes of cologne. You had found it later on his dresser. A square glass bottle.

Calvin Klein, Euphoria for men.

Strange, you had smelled that scent on other men before but he never smelled as good as it did on Jeon Jungkook.

But he did this shit all the time. A little kiss here. A little kiss there. Loved to disappear and pop up at just the right time when you were thinking about him and suddenly you were alone with exploring hands and a smiling mouth, is it too much, and you would reply in your most unfazed tone, shut the fuck up. He would promise he wasn’t fucking around but also he wouldn’t stick around either. You didn’t chase him but also you would blow his mind every time. Like that one instance where he had thrown himself into the wall and wheezed for air after you non-stop sucked him off for three orgasms straight, only stopping because you were done swallowing.

“Fuck… How does your mouth always get me hard so fast, f-fuck…”

“Told you not to question me,” was your calm reply as you wiped your lip with the heel of your palm.

There was no way that you were going to tell Jeon Jungkook that he was driving you insane with his behavior. Maybe he really wanted you to be the one to say it. But you weren’t going to, not with his constant, too much or next time or his stupid non-accidental leaving of his hair tie by your sink. He had shirts and sweatpants left behind in your apartment, just in case. The scent of Euphoria for men lingering on your bedsheets for a few hours, but it would disappear before the morning.

Just like him.

You knew Jungkook didn’t like it that you never tried to stop him from leaving.

“If you have to go, you have to go.”

If he wanted to, he would.

You left the bathroom, holding your phone loosely.

-

Jeon Jungkook looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she would let him love her the way he did.

He had a sinking feeling.

It started in the way that all accidents don’t happen. His finger hovering over her name in his contacts one too many times. More than one of those drunk times actually pressing it and then immediately ending the call. And then a single one of those extra drunk times not hanging up when she answered at the second ring. The fuck was she doing up at three in the morning anyway? His drunk brain was too over the moon to care though. His impulses uninhibited and his mouth going off before his brain could keep up.

Then promptly informing her that he needed to vomit and throwing up in some random flowerbed.

Not one of Jungkook’s best moments.

For some reason, she hadn’t completely written him off for that. Both a good thing and bad thing. A good thing because at least that didn’t disgust her. A bad thing because it made him fall in love a little harder. Then she had showed up on his doorstep the next morning with breakfast and looking like a million bucks. She looked too beautiful with tousled hair and that stern kindness. Even her lips moving as she chided him, you are not a kid anymore, you’re an adult, they looked so soft and inviting and she didn’t back away from he leaned in.

His head hurt like hell but he did it.

Her perfume was sweet and smokey and addictive.

He could still remember the feeling of her hand on his chest. Only thin white jersey separating him from those five fingertips. What are you doing? It was his fault. She put him on the spot and he couldn’t admit it fast enough. Getting you off my case. She shoved him and he laughed it off, setting a precedence that he couldn’t stop. No.

Didn’t.

“But… would you do it again?”

She had scoffed at him.

“Let’s see if you’re brave enough to meet me after dark when you’ve got a clearer head. Bye.”

There was something in that expression that dared him. Something in her body language that he couldn’t get out his head. Word on the street was don’t fuck around and find out, so Jungkook did precisely what any man would do when encountered with that information.

He fucked around and found the fuck out.

“Hey, now.”

Shit, her ass had looked so damn good in those black leather pants.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, punk?”

He had never met a better tongue. And her breath. He had begged her to breathe on him before. Hot and heavy like his heart, over his neck and chest and down his abs, warming the line of spit made by her wicked tongue. Unseen marks that stayed in his mind when he closed his eyes, looking down to her sensual stare, locking eyes with him as her tongue curled around the swollen head of his cock. Didn’t even need to look. So fucking hot. There was magic in that mouth. He never knew what to expect next but it was always exactly what he wanted. Soft and tight. Rough and deep. Warm tongue that curled around his girth and pressed him into the ridges, driving him insane with the sensations and the pressure.

If he had ever wanted anyone else, he had already forgot about them.

Jungkook refused to believe that she fucked anyone but him with that kind of vigor. She would place her palms on the headboard and ram her hips into him like he owed her goddamn rent. Pussy squeezing him all around. Dripping down his balls, sticking to his inner thighs. She would throw her hair back and grin after she blew his mind, sure, I can go again, like it was no big deal even though his chest was about to burst. He must be special.

Right?

He had brought a hair tie with him last night so his hair would stop sticking to his face.

He needed a haircut.

It made him so mad that she wouldn’t take the bait. She would corner him before he had his trap set and then he would balk under her stare, lips to lips to avoid saying anything. Hand to skin. Lips to his jaw, tongue playing with his earrings.

He just didn’t know.

Jungkook rolled in his bed, wishing it was her body beside his.

Stay away. She was a nightmare dressed like a daydream, everyone said. Road to ruin, everyone said. He didn’t care about that shit but he could feel the distance. Even between naked bodies and tongue to tongue, Jungkook got the feeling that she was never going to need him and that pissed him off. Was that stubbornness? Yeah. But wasn’t she being stubborn too by not giving in to what was so clearly there?

He had pulled the hair tie out and put it by the faucet, rinsing off his face to clear his head.

I’m not gonna stay if she doesn’t make me, he had said to himself, using her soft white hand towel to wipe his face. Looked at himself in the mirror and remembered that morning when she had come up behind him, yanking his shoulder and telling him he was too old for this shit. He wished she had done the same thing to him last night too.

But she hadn’t.

The sinking feeling persisted.

He texted back and he would get the hair tie next time. Next time. But she was pulling away and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like it. It made him irritated. It made him think he didn’t need this. It made him think he didn’t want anyone else because he was addicted to her now.

And.

It made him sad.

He looked to see if she had replied and of course she hadn’t. Reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside with a click of his tongue. Needed a shower. Needed to wash her memory off his mind. Maybe make an effort to call his friends and go out tonight.

Jungkook got up from his bed, holding onto his phone.

-

People were scared to be messy these days. But not you. The world was always going to be chaos. The only way to be in control of it was to be at the center.

Or start it.

You liked to be alone and you liked to be alone amongst people. The kind of feeling most people dreaded. You slid in deeper, deeper into the crowd, caged by body heat and bated breath. The world was darkness alight with neon points. The thundering bass traveling up from the floor seized the heart, threatening to stop it. A steady, continuous beat before the chaos. The other audience members where whispering amongst themselves in the dark. And there you were, standing in the vacuum of space surrounded by universes abound, and you the black hole, catching bits and pieces of their excited conversations, passively devouring in their palpable anticipation.

The music started.

The mosh pit came alive.

You had earplugs to prevent permanent damage for your dangerous pastime. Drums and guitar and guttural vocals. Bodies on the floor and leaning up against yours, even jostling you, but you paid it no mind, licking your teeth and letting the vicious, subline energy burn through you. It was hard to think about anything else. The band was alternative rock but they occasionally covered heavier songs live which was a real treat for your nostalgia.

A phase you never grew out of, heh.

You headbanged along and thankfully the hair tie kept the majority of your hair away from your face.

Not that it would have really mattered here. The concert was a psychedelic and everyone here was under the influence, lost in their own high, too deep into each song, reliving old memories and creating new ones. No one would care if you were sweaty. Everyone was sweating. Still, even with the mesh cutouts on the thighs, you probably shouldn’t have worn these leather pants. Now it was becoming disturbingly hot and you were really hoping adrenaline could make you forget about it. At least you had opted for a mesh long-sleeve shirt and loose crop top with the band’s logo on your upper half. Plus, you learned from last time – a skimpy black swimsuit top under instead of a bra.

Moisture-wicking, check.

“Nice jewelry.”

“Thanks,” was your quick reply between songs. They were talking about your tangle of silver bracelets and chain necklaces, you assumed. You did not really want to engage anyone too much. Rock bands tended to attract a lot of unsavory men. You never knew who you were amongst unless you trusted too much, so it was better to be distant and vigilant.

You tensed during the interlude as the band took a break.

“Are you by yourself? Me too.”

It was years of unfortunate experience that made you relax, because now you could tell the difference between someone you could hurt and someone that could hurt you. You didn’t check your phone when it vibrated while you spoke to the man who approached you. You could feel it and your cardholder practically glued to your hip in these tight leather pants. You weren’t going to get pickpocketed without a fight. But that wasn’t what this was. The guy was calm. Young face with an oddly wise aura. Seemed a little nervous. He was cute in a shy way.

Reminded you of someone.

Intimidating with his broad shoulders and all-black fit. Black hair swept over his forehead and soft dark eyes so large that they reminded you of boba pearls. You got him to smile easily. He had a brilliant, stunning smile. Apparently, he was supposed to meet a date and they flaked on him. It could have been a fabricated story, but he seemed genuine in the way he described it. Since he had already paid, he had decided to stick around. Noticed you because, unlike everyone else tightly packed in their groups, you thrashed alone. He said he was surprised that you had come alone. Even more surprised when you clarified that you had wanted to come alone.

“Well, big bad lone wolves like me can protect timid chipmunks like you, hm?” you joked.

After all, the world didn’t stop revolving just because Jeon Jungkook didn’t try hard enough.

That made him laugh and you let him enjoy the night with you. Even without knowing someone deeply, there was just something about enjoying music together that was its own intense experience. Bonded by bass and beating hearts, by the winded lightheadedness of whipping your heads too hard, by melodies that reminded you of darker times that made you stronger now, strong enough to be alone and casually with another, impulsively letting this strange wrap his arms around your legs and lift you so you could blow your lungs out and go hoarse during the last song.

You didn’t even feel your phone vibrate again because the bass was too fucking intense.

You bounced off that broad shoulder as the lights went down, laughing manically, electricity still simmering in your veins.

“I always wanted to do that.”

“Glad I could help,” the handsome stranger was chuckling. “You’re insane.”

It was, and you took it as such, a compliment.

You didn’t see Jeon Jungkook’s double text until you pulled out your phone to get this guy’s number.

Hey.

I see you.

A strange feeling. But you did as you intended and broke away, not lingering as the rest of the crowd filed out. You weren’t sure if this annoyed new guy, and at the moment you didn’t really care. Life, after all, was not a fairy tale. You wouldn’t have linked up tonight anyway, with or without Jungkook’s texts. The concert had been set in was a small venue next to a bar. People were either going through the side door or through the bar to keep the night going. You also followed towards the bar because you needed to get to the main street to get to the train.

If Jungkook had seen you, he must have brought tickets as well.

You hadn’t thought to even ask him.

You texted back.

You still see me?

Yeah.

You raised your eyebrows at the immediate answer, breaking out the crowd and moving towards the wall. You didn’t, however, look up. You weren’t about to give that satisfaction. Checked the time and the train schedule. Hm. You debated on whether or not to entertain this bullshit.

You look really good. Love your hair like that.

It took effort to not roll your eyes. Thing is, he could just approach you right now. The crowd was thinning out, but you ignored everybody and stayed glued to your phone. The only reason he wasn’t, then, was because he must be with others, which meant for some reason he didn’t want them to know that he was talking to you right now.

And.

That shit really pissed you off.

You cocked an eyebrow.

Come get your hair tie.

One of those times where you actually wanted to be left on read.

But he disappointed you.

Your place or mine?

You stuck your tongue in your cheek and dropped your hand, shoving your phone into your leather pants. Didn’t bother looking around. Just started walking out the door, thinking about the fastest route to the train station. Huh. Twenty-first century and Jeon Jungkook was out here thinking only guys like him could be fuckboys. You pushed through the smoked glass, out into the cool night and bustling street lit up with streetlamps and neon signs. Maybe you should have followed that stranger tonight. No. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t right. You shook your head at no one, whipping your hair about your shoulders, and began your brisk walk, Jeon Jungkook on your brain.

Fucking idiot.

-

He realized it too late.

The top of her hair had been pulled back, half-up, half-down, with wisps of bangs around her face, and he recognized those black leather pants, damn, her ass looks so good, and then he still didn’t get it as her shoulders slumped. She completely ignored his reply, walking out instead.

Ten minutes and then it hit him.

Come get your hair tie.

Fuck.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go.”

“What? Why? Did something happen?”

“Yup, bye.”

“Yah, Jeon–”

He didn’t even wait to hear his name being called, instead jumping over the chairs in haste and one beat away from running, just now realizing how fucking stupid he was. His heart fluttering as he knew a little piece of him was with her, but he was also mad. One of his friends had suggested the concert thing earlier tonight, and they had arrived late, staying in the back with their beers and enjoying the music. It had been a small, dark venue, but it suited the band and their heavy sound. Jungkook thought he had been going a little crazy, thinking about her all night with a drink in his hand, so crazy that he thought he had seen her silhouette towards the front. Thought he recognized that flying hair and rocking shoulders, but, no way, right? Then that same girl was lifted onto a shoulder and bouncing with her hand held high.

Devil horns and everything.

Whoever it was tipped her head back and Jungkook swore he recognized that back and those body proportions. Then her hoarse voice entered the meld of screams and instruments and boosted bass.

And he knew.

She was with someone.

Someone that wasn’t him.

He wanted to remind her. Remind her it was him that held her last night, remind her it was his mouth between her legs and his hands on her ass, but mostly he just wanted to remind himself. He wanted to know who it was that she was with but she had emerged from the doors alone. Weird. It made him feel a little better though. Selfish, Jungkook knew, but so he was. He had stayed were he was, at a table with his friends, out of her sight, but she didn’t even look up. Really. She was willing to make him feel all kinds of fucked up and not willing to even look the fuck up.

Okay.

Come get your hair tie.

Yeah, okay. Okay, she wanted to use him. Fine. Fine, he was cool with that. But she left him on read. In fact, he watched her not look back and leave. Wow. And then it hit him and now he was running in the night, past flooding pools of light and wishing to catch a glimpse of mesh sleeves or black leather pants or even those heavy black boots with silver metal heel. Now he was throwing himself onto the train and trying to remember which one was her stop, wondering why he didn’t see the invitation for what it was. Now time was a thief stealing away the perfect moment and he was chastising himself for not chasing that feeling that he wasn’t so sure about.

-

You pulled the clear hair tie out of your ponytail. The squiggly kind that was meant not to leave ceases in the hair. The strands still ended up wild from the headbanging and the windy night. You ran your fingers through it haphazardly, annoyed when your fingers caught a snag. Scowling at your bathroom mirror as you untangled the strands and wondered why the fuck you ever let Jeon Jungkook get in your brain and drive you insane.

Fuck it.

Fuck him.

Your body was still on a high from the concert. Nerves alight, senses simulated, emotions caught in a rollercoaster. You yanked your clear earplugs out and cleaned them off in your bathroom sink, patting them dry with your hand towel and leaving them next to the hair tie.

You looked down at it.

Should throw it away.

Your hand reached out and then there were three loud thumps at your apartment door.

You jerked and backtracked, surrounded by no light except for the one from the bathroom. It was a short walk. You had to step past your heavy black boots, careful not to stub your toe on the metal heel, and peered through the peephole, seeing a large dark brown eyeball because Jeon Jungkook was too damn close to your door.

You yanked it open.

“The fuck–”

And froze.

He was panting, slightly hunched over. Wearing a black racer jacket with white stripes. It lay half off one shoulder, exposing the black tank top underneath and a peek of his right arm tattoos. Slate blue jeans with slight rips on one knee and black boots, but none of that made you stop and stare, not even his furrowed brow and annoyed expression.

“You cut your hair,” you beathed.

It was fresh. Sides cut short, with the top layer long enough to touch his brows. Currently half swept back, probably from running around. A few strands fell by his dark eyes, additional shadows to this harrowed tension. You backed up. He stepped in, one hand catching the doorframe.

Jungkook glared at you and you felt none of that fake frostiness.

“Yeah, I had a hair appointment today,” he huffed. “I didn’t come for the damn hair tie.”

It was all piling together. The moments of hands around each other’s waist, around his wrist, around his hard cock with his low voice in your ear. Don’t stop. The things unsaid and not said. The nights with him and the mornings without him. Backing away from Calvin Klein’s Euphoria still clinging to your sheets. Alone. The music of your youth, hard and rough and full of anger. The strength of a stranger and the cold air of the night, and suddenly you felt alive, alive and needing answers and fucking pissed off at all the shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

You let him in your apartment, but not in your space.

“How did you know where I was going to be?” you accused.

The door fell shut.

Jungkook cocked his head. Dark eyes finding yours, cornering you with his gaze. You locked stares and did not back down. “Where else you gonna go but home?” he shot back.

You narrowed your own eyes and didn’t bite your tongue.

“How would a guy like you know what home even means?”

-

Goddamn, the one always knew how to hit him where it hurt.

He stopped moving forward.

But his heart was racing fast, remembering all the moments piling together. Lips to lips, hips to hips, and how tightly she held him, as if she wasn’t going to let him go. Not falling for any of the traps he set but drawing him closer and closer each time with that look in her eyes. Alone. Trying to forget how it felt to be held by her even through it was the most secure he had ever been.

Thinking about it now, maybe too much.

His voice wavered in the darkness between them.

“But, would you do it again?”

She paused at his question. Those eyes seemed a little less shadowy, a little less space between them but only for this second. Kept her hands by her sides though, not reaching out to him.

“How much of this was a lie?” she quietly asked.

He answered honestly.

“None of it.”

She scrutinized him. He stayed an open book. Mostly because he didn’t know any other way to cover up except run, can’t stay too late, didn’t know what was the right thing to do when clearly he had done so much wrong, didn’t know how this was going to end but Jungkook damn well knew this was gonna fuck him up for his whole life.

Silence.

That sinking feeling.

“You have time to spend?” she finally asked.

-

“Yeah.”

Must be a dream.

You closed the distance, trying to stay awake, watching his eyes. Waiting for Jungkook to run, as he did so many times before. He always had somewhere to be that wasn’t here. Following his dark brown eyes, the memory of his taste on your tongue, breathing in the clean scent of Euphoria, closer, body heat radiating off him, and Jungkook bit his lip, causing the two silver lip rings to catch what little light there was, like punctured stars in the darkness between you and him.

His lashes lowered.

You looked at him, unfazed.

Raised your hand.

Placed five fingertips on his black top. Thin jersey fabric between skin to skin, and you walked them up his chest, staring into the windows of his soul to find the truth. Your lips formed his name, but made no sound. His own followed suit, breathing your name under a tense exhale, not yet moving, shivering as your middle finger traced his chain necklace.

“You never have time to spend,” you murmured, your breath against his jaw.

He lowered his head, gaze flickering away. Then back, mumbling even though he meant it.

“I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.

Opened your mouth to chastise him, but all that came out was an exasperated chuckle.

“Don’t do it again.”

You pressed your lips against his.

Jungkook stole your breath and sank into you.

Your hand pressed into his chest and his arms slid around your waist. His fingers splayed out under your crop top, pressing the slinky micro-mesh against your skin and sending a tingling sensation up your spine. He tasted like haste and hunger. Warmth spreading out, squeezing your torso between leather-covered arms, gasping when your tongue flickered against his lips. Slow. Teasing. Dragging it out. Your other hand slid under his jacket, grasping the small of his waist and digging your nails in. He winced, a small whimper, then tried to cover it up by pulling back slightly, but your tongue remained, sliding out further between his open lips.

Your eyes cracked open to see Jungkook’s lashes flutter, his hot moan warming your lips.

“F… Fuck…”

Your tongue retreated.

Exhaled, giving it the weight that made it drift over his neck and chin. He sucked in a sharp inhale, opening his eyes too. A stand-off. His thighs pressed against your thighs. His erection was straining, even in his jeans. You traced your tongue around the perimeter of your lips, seeing him track the movement with bated breath, smiling slightly as his cock twitched.

He narrowed his eyes. “Can you not?”

You cocked one shoulder, smirking with the tip of your tongue at the edge of your teeth. “Why?”

The faintest of eye rolls. “You don’t suck my dick unless I shower first. And I haven’t showered yet.”

“That really sucks,” you hummed.

With just the correct about of intonation hat you had no sympathy. Especially since your hand was sliding over his ass to follow the line of his hip and then further down, hooking your thumb over the waistband of his jeans and molding your other four fingers around the unforgiving bulge. You heard him bite back a sound, pressing his biceps against you in warning, but you merely smiled, leaning forward to graze your lips against his cheek and jaw.

His cock pulsed strongly in your grip as you whispered into his ear.

Low and hot.

“That really sucks.”

Jungkook made a noise between a whimper and a growl.

But you didn’t care, pressing your breasts against his muscular chest. You knew he could feel your lack of bra through the layers of fabric, the confusion spreading over his facial features as you backed up. There was something there, his brain was working that out, but the swimsuit fabric was thin and your hard nipples were large enough for him to barely feel if he really flexed his pecs.

You unbuttoned his jeans.

He didn’t stop you because he would be crazy to.

The tension so tight that neither of you were breathing.

You grinned.

And yanked his underwear and jeans down at the same time.

You probably wouldn’t have tried this shit if it was someone else. Jungkook was habitual creature. The kind where he kept a small tube of hand sanitizer on him at all times, and you would catch him using it all the time, so absentmindedly that it seemed to have become second nature. He would do it after getting off the train. Walking aimlessly. Standing at your front door as you opened it, rubbing his hands together and directly looking at you, cocking an eyebrow.

The first time you noticed this action you thought he was being a creep before you realized it was hand sanitizer he was putting back into his pocket. He was not, in fact, imitating eccentric cartoon villain behavior. Had you in the first half, not gonna lie.

“What?”

It had been a pointed what at that time.

This time it was a sexually charged and gravelly, “What…?”

You squatted down and took his right hand, turning it palm up. Opened your mouth and drenched saliva all over his palm and fingers, the clean citrus scent of his hand sanitizer hitting your nose, hearing him hiss and feeling him tense. The tendons of his wrist stood out, black ink of his tattoos creeping out under the sleeve of the leather jacket. Your tongue lingered against the texture of his calluses along the top of his palm.

Guess he had been working out his frustrations.

“F-Fuck!”

You wrapped his spit-covered hand around his stiff length. Instinct and arousal and the slippery, tight, pleasurable sensation beat out any protest he had about what was happening, firmly and quickly jacking himself off right in front of your face. You calmly watched the glossy, swollen head pop in and out between his tightened fingers. All colors were desaturated due to the dark apartment. Didn’t matter. You had seen it enough times to know what he looked like.

You looked up.

Jungkook was looking down, gasping, the visible strain making his shoulders tremble. Jaw clenched, dark irises glassy, you’re so fucking pretty, shit, and you stuck out your tongue, enjoying the power. He shuddered, gripping himself tighter. Using your left hand, you hooked a thumb under the hem of your shirts, pushing them up, up, over your barely-covered breasts, revealing your hard nipples straining against the tiny black bikini top.

Those large brown eyes went wide, his lips parting.

“Oh, fuck…”

You used your right hand to shove the thin fabric away, scooping your breasts closer together to give him a good view, securing your left hand against your shoulder, easily holding the bunched-up fabric. Grinned, not hiding how pleased you were at his reaction. You lowered your right knee to the ground, stabilizing yourself.

And, now that your right hand was free, you reached forward and smacked his balls.

His black hair whipped in the air as his head snapped back, moaning sharply at the sudden impact. You slapped them again, and again. It was slightly slick from your own spit. Fast and firm. Not hard, since Jungkook hadn’t quite expressed the level he wanted yet, but then his head fell forward, erratic gasps and pupils blown out, squeezing the head of his cock hard, his entire body shaking.

“Harder,” he groaned out, depraved and deep.

You did as you were told, smacking harder and spreading out the hit over the entire area, keeping yourself exposed for him.

“Fuck… f-fuck…”

It was loud, lewd, and wet. His hand moving fast, and your fingertips repeatedly punishing his balls, his hips shaking in ecstasy. The scent of sex mixing with his crisp cologne, deliciously dirtying it. He turned his hand so it was palm up, knuckles down. You spat on his closed fingers and Jungkook moaned even louder, tipping his head back, sweat glistening along his throat.

Spit dripping down.

A bit of a mess, truly.

His head snapped back, fucked-out gaze, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Can… Can you breathe on me…?”

You leaned forward and parted your lips. Keeping eye contact, sliding your tongue out, and exhaled. Slow, heavy, saturated with warmth, leisurely drifting over his fast, tight grip on his hard cock. His eyes squeezed shut, drawn-out groan thundering in his chest. You did it again and his eyes opened, rolling back slightly, his lashes fluttering. You increased the pressure on his balls. The sharp smacks getting louder, wet thrusts, sensual sighs mixing with his desperate whine, and Jungkook tipped his hips down, fixated on watching himself cum onto your tongue and down your throat.

Hot, thick streaks.

You tilted your head back, drinking his orgasm down as you locked eyes with him, electric bliss simmering through your veins. His short black hair was damp with sweat. The strange feeling came back again, somewhere between a dream and reality, yet unmistakable clarity.

Fuck.

You were both sinking.

Shit.

-

“Don’t stop.”

To be honest, Jungkook didn’t like missionary for the sheer reason that she was too damn powerful in this position. Face too damn pretty. Tits too damn perfect. Legs on his shoulders letting him get too damn deep, soft thighs against his hard abs, pussy clenching around every centimeter of his length and not letting up, her hips smacking up every time he thrust down. Okay. It just felt too fucking good. It was a damn problem. He had to grind his teeth and fuck hard so he could slow down and not cum too fast. One would think the second orgasm would be difficult to reach, but one would be fucking wrong. His was rock-hard once she was naked and even harder when she dipped her fingers into her wet pussy to smear her juices over the throbbing head of his cock before he rolled the condom down.

“Are you a virgin or what – fuck!”

She was giving him that smug smirk of hers.

It both pissed him off and made him so damn happy.

A bitch faking it would be imitating shitty porn right now. That was why he never did missionary with any other women before her. It just made him limp. Better it hit it from the back and not have to look at their faces.

God, she was so fucking pretty.

“Always a virgin, only for you,” she snickered.

“I feel so fucking special,” Jungkook growled back, emphasizing each word by pounding her into the mattress.

He did, though.

Somewhere between dream and reality. That strange feeling as he watched her hands grip her pillows, her features softening as she fell into the pleasure, smacking her hips into his, their breathless moans blending together, primal harmony, and he knew he was well and truly fucked because instead of only drowning in the physical sensations of shoving his cock into that tight, wet hole, Jungkook was thinking about how he would wake up and bury his face in her hair the next morning, inhaling the scent of her sweet and smokey perfume, hoping other people could smell her on him, thinking about how lovely it would be to look over and see those eyes roaming over his face, every day and every night.

Well.

Shit.

She clenched around him particularly hard and Jungkook snapped out of his daydream.

Back into his lustful nightdream.

“Harder,” she hissed out, narrowing her eyes.

He was going to gasp, fuck you, but he was doing that already and there was no time to think because she sank lower into the mattress, angling her hips ever-so-slightly, and it was so deep, so good, so tight, losing his mind. Sweat dripping down his chest. He tucked his head back, trying not to get it all over her, bending his elbows and locking his muscles, driving his back and hips into his thrust, bending her in half and neither of them could breathe, closer, clawing up to the high, fast and intense and coiling tight in his chest, sinking down, down, deep down.

Airless.

His orgasm crashed into him so hard that his arms almost gave out.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

He was sure that the noise that came out of him was not one he wanted to be self aware of. Something between a choked groan and whining moan, lost in the pulsating walls shivering against his jerking cock, wave after wave burning through him. The high seared him like electricity and the aftermath was layers of sparks building over his skin, tingling nerves and forgetting about anything else, suspended in this feeling.

Then his muscles screamed from fatigue and Jungkook realized his back was alarmingly sweaty.

“A… ah, hah…”

She plucked the white hand towel from her nightstand and flung it over his shoulder, falling back into the pillows and gasping.

He was in the middles of wiping his face before he realized that she didn’t have a towel there the first time he came over. But a towel was always there every other time he had showed up after. Either white or dark gray. Always fluffy. He looked down. Her eyes were closed, her pants slowing down to heavy breaths. She hadn’t been looking at him during his epiphany.

She smacked his arm for a second time before he realized she was trying to get his attention.

“Put my legs down, damn…”

“Oh, shit, right…”

It took him a moment to untangle himself. She went to the bathroom, as she usually did. Their clothes were all over the floor. Leather pants. Mesh shirt. The bathing suit top. Panties. His tank top. Black boxer briefs. His jacket and jeans were out there somewhere in the hall outside the bedroom. He noticed a pair of folded gray sweatpants and white shirt sitting on the corner of her room, randomly atop a low bookshelf. He had put them there a week ago. Just in case. She hadn’t moved it.

Jungkook breathed out.

He patted his temple.

I’m in idiot.

Then vigorously dried his hair.

The feeling came back when it was his turn to clean up in the bathroom and he saw his clear hair tie by her sink. A little tangled up from use, next to a pair of clear earplugs. He should probably check his phone and tell his friends that he was fine, but it was somewhere out there in his jeans and Jungkook wasn’t going to go hunting for it right now.

He went back to the bedroom.

Damn, she was so stunning even simply lying in bed. Her gray duvet was only covering her lower half, her forearm draped over her eyes. Amazing breasts. He took a moment to ogle them, perfect nipples and all.

“Stop staring at my tits.”

Well, shit.

She raised her arm and cocked her eyebrow at him.

Not saying anything, but the message came across quite clear.

Jungkook draped the hand towel over his shoulder and picked up the gray sweatpants from the bookshelf, yanking them over his legs before looking up again. Those shadowed eyes were watching him carefully. Surprise but not quite believing. He left the t-shirt and dropped the towel onto the floor, walking over to the other side of the bed and throwing himself down onto the mattress, making her body bounce.

Side eye.

“What?”

He shrugged.

“I’m tired.”

She frowned at him.

“Oh, yeah?”

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

He used his elbows to scoot himself to the pillows, resting his chin on the backs of his hands to look down at her. Her eyes followed the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. Down and then up. Observing his facial expression carefully.

“Can’t stay too late?” she whispered. Somewhere between a taunt and weariness.

It broke his heart a little, hearing his own words said back to him. He moved one hand and lifted her forearm from her brows, seeing more of her face now. The mood lighting was still on. Points of color dancing over the ceiling above them. They reflected in her eyes even as she faced him.

Jungkook could smell her perfume, soft and sweet and not yet clinging to his skin.

“Can I stay the night?”

Her eyes narrowed. “And why would you wanna to that?”

He shrugged, realizing now that it had never been a no.

“Boyfriends stay over at their girlfriends’ places sometimes. Free breakfast.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.

“The shit you pull, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned down. Had to fight for the kiss. Hands on wrists. His chest pressed against her breasts. When their lips touched, he could feel her smiling, so Jungkook smiled too and kissed her deeply.

--

masterpost

[denjjisgf]

SHE LIVES IN MY LAP

megumi fushiguro x reader

SYNOPSIS ✧˚⋆｡ in an unexpected turn of events, you find yourself falling into the sheets with a new friend. as the days get shorter and nights no longer sticky and hot, your insatiable summer hookup appears to be more than just a seasonal arrangement.

CONTENT WARNINGS✧˚⋆｡ general: 18+ minors dni, alcohol consumption, megumi is a fuckboy sex!! minors dni!!! nsfw: afab (she/her) reader, vaginal sex, oral (m&f! receiving), 69ing, m! masturbation

W/C✧˚⋆｡9.1k 

AUTHOR'S NOTE✧˚⋆｡ hihi! it's been so long since i've written anything. this a repost of a series i decided to scrap, i've decided to come back from the dead to finish it in a one- shot! i hope everyone likes it __〆(￣ー￣ )

playlist

JUNE✧˚⋆

notification center:

[ suguru:: we’ll be there in ten. make sure to bring sunscreen! ]

[ satoru:: and make sure to wear something skimpy ;) ]

you set down your phone with huff, trying to suppress a chuckle at your friends. checking the time one last time, you scramble to get the last of your things, tossing everything and anything in your bag. three rasps at the door stops you in your tracks, your sandal clad feet patter to your front door as you wonder who could possibly be here. standing in the frame was gojo, forearm lazily propped against the wood, leaning into you with a proud look on his face. 

“you guys said ten minutes, it’s been three, satoru. i’m still not ready.”

cerulean eyes peer down at you over gojo’s staple circle frames, a smug smile adorning his face as he gives you a quick up and down look. “well, good thing you still have time to change. i said skimpy, i know you can do better,” he says with a smile and mocking tone. almost as if it was rehearsed, the lanky silver fox’s partner in crime pops his head out behind gojo’s shoulder. “don’t be mean satoru!” suguru says with a playful slap on gojo’s shoulder. “you look great, y/n. let’s head out!”

the car ride to the docks is just as you had expected: chaotic. the two men argued the entire way, each one convinced they knew the best way to a place they have never been too. and at gojo’s instance, the three of you ended up taking a twenty minute detour in the wrong direction. when you finally pull into the dirt parking lot, suguru turns in his seat to face you in the backseat, “we’re here,” he says, a hand scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry about the confusion earlier. satoru said he looked up directions before we left, but i should’ve known better than to trust him.” 

“what are you talking about? look! we are here!” gojo’s exclaims pridefully, swinging open his door and stepping out. he stretches, hands linking together over his head with a sigh, his loose t-shirt raising just a little to expose his milky white skin and toned body. “and it’s all thanks to my great directional skills.”

your door opens suddenly, suguru’s head peeking inside wearing his gentle and familiar smile, linking his arm with yours to pull you out of the backseat. “so,” you turn to suguru questioningly, “how exactly do you two know these people?” 

instead, gojo replies, quick and concise. sneaky almost. “close friends. we go way back. i practically raised those kids, taught ‘em everything they know.” suguru snickers at his friend’s words, the pair exchanging a dangerous glance that, if you didn’t know them as well as you did, you would’ve missed. “almost a little too well, if you asked me,” the dark hair man added, lips upturned into an innocent smile, but eyes deadly and secretive. all too knowing if you said so yourself. the two men continued on the path towards the docks where the party was being held, long strides keeping themselves paces ahead of you, ending the conversation abruptly. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you shout expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer, but dying on the inside to know.  suguru stops in his tracks, head looking over his shoulder and gaze falling on your own.

“what’s the fun in telling you now?”

ᰔ summer was megumi’s favorite time of year. it always brought his favorite things: reckless decisions and girls in bikinis. he made a sport of feeding hot girls sugar sweet words like frozen strawberry daiquiris, serenading them into his bed night after night. his friends’ annual summer kickoff party was his ideal playing field, so many people, so many choices, he never knows where to start. 

you see, there are several factors that went into the tradition of their party. now that he and nobara left for college, yuuji, commuting locally, prepared the get to together in their arrival. a proper summer kickout. on the surface level, it appeared to be a fun, festive way for people to get shitfaced, washing away the stress and anxiety of finals with clear liquor and cheap beer, but for megumi, it was so much more than that. when summer finally rolls around, the heat melts off layers of clothes, making everyone hot and bothered in other ways besides the weather. it’s everyone’s fantasy to have a silver screen summer fling, after all, no one wants to spend the hottest time of year alone. this party was the perfect setting for lonely women to lay some groundwork and find the perfect rent-a-boyfriend for three months. and what’s better than horny, hopeful women?, megumi thought. 

megumi plays his role of the cool, calm, and collected silent guy like a pro, having girls all on him or stealing glances and fluttering their lashes when he comes around. he smiles to himself, scrolling through the new additions to his contacts list. the familiar ring of laughter causes his ears to perk up, raising his head to find the friendly faces of gojo and suguru. trailing behind them was someone he had never met. 

who, are you?  

his stare drifted to meet gojo’s, the white haired man pushing his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose and raising an eyebrow with a taunting smirk. megumi didn’t need words to know what gojo was telling him- come say hello, i know you want to. he turns to face the other direction, legs moving to walk as far away from you before curiosity gets the best of him and he caves into gojo’s all too tempting game. 

nursing a solo cup filled with god knows what, megumi stalks you the entire party. he can’t seem to take his eyes off you, being short and brash when girls come up to him, focus completely astray and only on you. his eyes widen, swallowing thickly as he watches suguru and gojo tug and pull at your coverup, nudging you to undress and get in the water with them. gojo pulls your hands into his own, holding them up above your head. he yanks you closer, bringing your face inches from his own causing you to recoil into suguru’s chest, ass pressed firmly to the front of his hips. turning to look his younger friend dead in the eyes, the smallest glint of daring challenge reflecting in suguru’s dilating pupils, fingers teasingly playing with the hem of your sundress. 

megumi glares. hard. jealousy disguised as irritation, his jaw ticks at the spectacle his friends are putting on. regardless, he feels himself get warm, fidgeting with the collar of a shirt that he wasn’t wearing and readjusting the discomfort in his swim trunks. he watches, making eye contact with suguru, who has long since abandoned his hovering position and settled below you, face in front of your ass. large hands slide the flowy fabric up your thighs, bunching it at the tops of your hips and sliding a finger under the waistband of your bikini bottoms, snapping it against your skin. you gasp at the sudden smack to your sensitive skin, your mouth making a pretty o shape that has megumi’s eyes rolling. “oops, my bad i didn't mean to snag you there,” the dark haired man purrs, soothing the sting with a careful rub. you shove the two of them away, a scowl dressed on your face, “i can undress myself without the help of you idiots. what are you doing?” despite your tone, megumi can clearly see your frazzled state, red blush spread across your cheeks and chest. 

you dirty girl, i bet you liked that, huh?

megumi’s mind was running a hundred miles an hour. he couldn’t stand to be here anymore. you had long abandoned your dress and your bathing suit left little to the imagination. the straps of your top digging into your neck, triangles cover the bare minimum of your breasts leaving them spilling out the sides. sitting down in a lounger, he faked innocence, sunglasses set high on the bridge of his nose to cover his wandering eyes. he kept a close eye on you throughout  the party, observing the way your body moved as you danced, as you emerged from the water, wet and dripping.

the last straw was when suguru and gojo convinced you to join them at the makeshift bar on the shore. the two men took turns mixing you drinks in plastic cups, laughing at your pinched face as you downed drink after drink, the bitter taste of alcohol making you stick your pretty, pink tongue out in disgust. yet, you continued to take cups from your friends, enjoying the light fuzziness and lowered inhibitions taking over your body. raising your cup to you lips, suguru tipped the bottom to make you down the contents, the burning sensation of liquor running down your throat and trickling out of the corners of your shiny lips. long slender fingers pluck the plastic cup from your hands with a chuckle, “woahh, slow down there. you’re making an awful mess of yourself.” gojo tilts your face up to his own and checks to make sure megumi is watching. he brings his thumb to swipe away the remnants of the sticky liquid running down your chin and licks it off his finger. that’s it, megumi thought, standing up from his seat to leave the party, his nerves beyond irritated from his friend’s incessant dick measuring. 

“yo! megumi!” yuuji calls out, running towards his raven haired friend. “do me a favor and run up the road to get some ice bags! the beers are drowning in warm water right now,” with a firm grasp on your wrist, the energetic boy spins you away from your conversation and straight into a stranger with a thud. your hand laid flat against the expanse of their chest, holding yourself steady from yuuji’s previous uncontrolled movements. 

“i even found you a buddy to go with you! megumi, meet y/n.”

“it’s, uhm-” he falters, hints of crimson bashfully spread over his cheeks, conscious of the heat your palm emanates onto his bare skin, manicured nails scratching lightly over his peck and sending shivers down his spine. he felt like a fool, finally getting the opportunity to have you and all he can do is fumble over his words. your doe eyes were wide and glossy from the alcohol, and what only you know as desire. looking into his eyes, dark and narrowed, attention solely focused on you, you feel yourself get hot. shy almost. you chalk it up to being tipsy bordering on drunk. 

“c’mon bro, take the keys,” the jingle of car keys cut short as megumi brings his hand up to catch the lanyard haphazardly tossed at him. “now hurry up! everyone’s waiting!” megumi rolls his eyes and takes your hand in his own, dragging you towards the parking lot. “hold on, let me tell my friends i’m leaving! what if you kill me or something?” 

“don’t worry about it, gojo and geto were invited here by me. you’ll be fine.” you stop in your tracks, almost losing your balance in the soft sand, “wait, so you’re the one who invited us.” 

“invited them, you mean. just,” he sighs with frustration,”let’s go, i want to get there and back.” he drops your hand and begins to walk away, leaving you in his shadow. “are you coming or not?” he asks, looking over his shoulder, low eyes and the smallest of smiles, willful temptation written all over his face. 

“yea. i’m coming.” 

leaving a few steps of space between yourselves, megumi leads you through the maze of the parking lot. stopping at a car you can only assume as yuuji’s, you watch the dark haired boy squeeze his way to the passenger’s side door and opening it. “i’ve been drinking, i really shouldn’t drive.” 

he sighs, shoulders dropping in exasperation as if he can’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth. in an instant, you feel his hand wrapped delicately around your wrist, fingers hovering over your pulse point, your heart beating faster as he slides you front of him and ushers you into the seat. he leans into you, faces inches from yours and eye contact never breaking. for just a moment, the two of you drink in the sights of each other. you admire the faint scatter of sun blessed freckles on the bridge of his nose, the curvature of his lips, soft and slightly pouted. and in this moment, you can’t help but find him attractive. just for a moment though. 

“don’t you think i know that? you practically crawled on all fours to catch up.”

he moves swiftly, pulling the seat belt over your lap, clicking it into place. you look to the side, avoiding his stare and he can do everything but ignore the subtle pink dusting across the highpoints of your face, the smallest of indents forming as you bit the inside of your cheek, deep in thought. you were bothered by his words and he loved it. something about seeing you like this, annoyed and bothered. he needed to see more. as wrong as it was, he was losing it, he could feel himself being pushed to the edge, the threads of intricate control being snipped, leaving him loose and fraying. megumi loved his flirtatious games too much, but needed more time to pull you apart, like lovesick girls do to flowers, petal after petal till nothing was left. bare. 

“too tight?” he asks. you shake your head, unable to speak, words unspoken on your tongue and thoughts void from you mind, plucked away by his nimble touch and wrapped around his finger. “let’s go then.”

ᰔ “soo,” his hand meets to back of your headrest. “do you like to cuddle?” he cranes his neck, hooded eyes low and lazy as he searches the back windshield, reversing from the parking spot. 

your faces twists with displeasement, jaw dropped and eyebrows knitted together, “what kind of fucking question is that?”

“the kind of question to get you to make that face,” his voice honeyed and teasing as he counters your expected response. silence fills the car, satisfaction spread out in a small smile and slightly crinkled eyes as megumi soaks in your frazzled reaction. he likes to see you irritated, to push your buttons. megumi likes to toy with headstrong women, to make them whining messes for an arrogant man. an asshole. you could practically hear the winning bell ring: megumi, one. his game of banter beginning with your speechless defeat. 

but he was gorgeous. his hair dark and perfectly messy, his bangs swooped low enough to shape his face but show off his eyes. colored like a storm, you could stare into them for hours. the summer sun did his justice, his tanned skin glistening under its magnification. a physique of the gods, you try not to stare and he pretended not to notice. 

you settle into your seat, the alcohol catching up and sending your head spinning. watching out the window, you fall into your thoughts, figuring out a way to break the silence. “so what’s your deal?” you exclaim, folding your hands into your lap and turning to look at megumi, focused on the road and contently ignoring you. “i know you have so much going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

“y’know, i saw you drink a lot, maybe you should stop talking and save these questions for later? maybe when you’re sober?” 

you roll your head to your shoulder to turn to him with small smirk. oh, so he wants to be like that, “and i saw you talking to a lot of girls, maybe you should stop being a slut?”

he chuckles, side eyeing you with a playful glare and a tick in his jaw, clearly enjoying the banter. “i bet you think you’re real funny.” 

“and you must think you’re cute. we all have our flaws, megumi.” 

he slides his palm along the wheel, turning into a parking spot and bringing the car to a stop. he hops out of the driver’s side, jogging around front of the car and opens your door. he follows you over to the white cooler in the front of the convenience store where you play with the padlock, the hinges creaking as pull the handle open. 

reaching into the ice cooler you tug on the bag relentlessly. megumi brings his hand to grip onto the door’s frame, leaning in behind you, his breath shallow and warm against the shell of your ear. “do you need help?” the sheeted ice cementing the plastic down to the bottom of the container loosens as it cracks, “from you? no thanks.” you lean down into the cooler to yank on the bag with better leverage, determined to prove a point: you did not need help, and you didn’t need megumi either. the plastic tears from the bag and your hand flies up causing you to stumble backwards, banging your head on the roof of ice box. you yelp, quick to bring a hand up to your throbbing head, wincing at the touch. you turn to lean your back against the cool metal only to be met by megumi, who takes the opportunity to get closer, his hands cupping your face with concern. he makes room for himself between your legs, inching closer to you, “are you alright? does it hurt?”

he leans in closer as he flits his gaze from your eyes to your lips as if he’s done this a million times.

it all happens so fast. you blink and he’s rushing you, pressing his lips firmly against your own. you tug at his shirt, opening your mouth when he runs his tongue over your bottom lip tantalizing slow, tasting you thoroughly. you both walk backwards, lost in the kiss, until you feels the hood of the car hit the back of your calves. you break away from each other panting lightly, your hand caressing alongside his jaw and his own planted firmly on your waist. you nod your head, motioning towards the car and he smiles.

he can’t keep his hands off of you. his hand scrambles to open the door, too distracted by the curves of your body, missing the handle a few times. you grab onto his shoulder, ushering him a few steps forward, pushing him in front of you to make room for the door as it swings open. “get inside,” he whispers shakily. his mind is racing, his voice long gone of its normal confidence to command.

you fall back, your skin making contact with the leather, hot to the touch and sticking to your sweat sheened back. you run your fingers through his hair as lowers to meet you, his knee bent between your legs, one hand parting your thighs, inviting himself in. scrambling back to make room, you seat yourself back pressed against the inside door. his hand comes up to the window with a slap, bracing himself above of you. your hand cradles his face, your thumb stroking along his jaw, before enveloping his lips with yours once again. you taste sweet like peaches, hints of tequila on your tongue as you take turns welcoming each other into your mouths. you mimic his breathless moans of pleasure and fill the car with your whines, your hips colliding with his thigh as you mindlessly grind against him. your kisses become sloppy, teeth gnashing and spit everywhere, desperation and need filling both of you to the brim. 

clutching his shirt in your fist, you use the momentum to push him into seat position, swinging one knee over his leg, and grounding yourself in his lap. he kisses you feverishly, his head light and spinning, completely overwhelmed by the intoxicating taste of you. adrenaline coursed through his veins at your movements, hips grinding slowly on top of him, relieving the pain of his aching cock. you thread your hands through his hair, carding through his soft locs before tugging his head back to expose his neck. a moan slips from his lips, pink, spit slicked and swollen while you smear kisses on his collarbone. he paws at your chest, he pulls your breasts out from your bikini top, taking a moment to admire you. 

“you’re so hot. i haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since i saw you,” he groans, a palm pressed to the small of your back he leans into you, taking your nipple into his mouth. you bring a hand up to rest on the crown of his head, moans spilling from your lips, coaxing him to continue. he eats up all of you. mentally recording every inch of your body, every cry sounding heaven in his ears, just to shamelessly replay this moment for his convenience. his hips cant with yours, messily grinding for relief when he reaches to pull his trunks down. “m-megumi, wait,” you plead and cup his face with both hands. he stops, panting between the valley of your chest, catching his breath while nuzzling against you. “not now, not here.” 

the two of you drove back to the lake in silence. separately your thoughts run wild at what just happened. pulling into a parking spot, megumi turns to you in the passenger’s seat, mouth agape slightly, the words you both want to hear on the tip of his tongue. he needs to see you again. the last thing megumi had expected this morning was to share a heated makeout session in the backseat of his best friend’s car with a borderline stranger. he never acts out of impulse, every decision thought out and calculated with precision. what you both had done crossed so many lines in megumi’s mind. honestly, what was he thinking?! it was broad daylight, parked in front of a mini convenience shop, while on a trip the two of you managed to stretch 20 minutes longer than it should have. he should be racked with guilt. he should be ashamed of his lack of self control. and if he was smarter, he should have never agreed to leave with you when yuuji asked. but something festered deep inside him, flipping up every stone of reason and leaving the boy on his hands and knees, grasping at the cool, level-headed persona he once had down to a t. 

twisting your head slightly, you scanned his face, searching for a clue- anything- to what he might say next. your fingers drummed on the car door, suddenly self conscious under his scrutinizing gaze. almost as if he sensed your discomfort, megumi drops his head down low to meet your eyes, a feather light slide of his fingers under your chin to draw you closer. a breath stops dead in your throat at his close proximity, noses grazing against one another as his takes his lower lip in between his teeth before looking sideways out the windshield. yuuji comes barreling at you two with an open smile, two cans held sloppily in both hands.

“‘s about time! what took so long? were you guys fucking or something?” he stutters out, a drunken flush to his sun kissed skin. megumi chokes at his friend’s comment, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously and guilt so obviously displayed on his face. you elbow him, motioning to grab the bags of ice in the backseat. you watch his arm reach down, the muscles in his bicep and forearms flexing deliciously, making your head spin and the dull throb of your arousal grow steadily. you have got to get out of this car. it was hard enough to keep your hands off of him in the parking lot earlier, but he was just too close. too accessible. too desirable. the things you wanted to do to him, the positions you wanted to bend into for him making you swoon. 

lost in your daydreams, you had failed to notice yuuji’s perplexed face and megumi’s shameful pout, like a puppy that chewed up its owner’s shoe, the energy now tense. “we forgot to buy the ice.”

ᰔ the worst part about apartment buildings are the thin walls. unfortunately for the neighbors of megumi’s current conquest and tomorrow’s history, they are the ones being royally screwed over that evening. bangs and thuds came from mutually sharing walls and laminate wood flooring belonging to a girl whose name megumi can’t seem to remember. rolling off her body and over onto the sheets, megumi stares up at the ceiling, a blank expression worn on his face. 

a hand creeps up his chest, a singular finger dragging up over the valley of his abs and scratching lightly over his chest teasingly. his mind begins to race, arousal causing his dick to twitch under the thin cotton sheets. megumi is no stranger to scores of nail shapes and crescents on his skin, littering his body, but this time, it just feels…well, it feels wrong. since your encounter the other day, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind, his body buzzing with the excitement of a chase, of someone who won’t cave in right away and give him what he wants, of someone different. the physical gesture of the woman lying besides him so genuine can’t be anything but superficial when it’s your handprint branded into his skin instead. 

as soon as light snores fill the room, megumi rises from the bed, picking up his scattered clothes, eyes adjusting to dark. his phone buzzes on the nightstand next to him, the low vibration close to inaudible, but his ears pique up in anticipation. the screen illuminates a long awaited text message from an unknown number followed by another incoming notification; “come over.”

he had begged gojo and geto days ago for your number, swallowing his pride and stooping low to get the chance to see you again. at first, they had told him no, savoring the moment of keeping you their little secret and away from their junior’s prying eyes and wandering hands. it wasn’t often that the two had something megumi couldn’t. but after some calculated bribery and forced compliments and praise, gojo had slid your contact card into megumi’s messages. he had texted you immediately, too impatient to wait any longer and all too eager to get you underneath him, but his only response was a delivered text and empty chat. 

copying the address you sent, he pastes it into the maps app on his phone, his fingers shaking, adrenaline and desire replacing the blood in his pounding heart and sending it straight to his head. he’s delirious, head spinning and eyes blown out from lust. he feels like a teenage boy again, completely void of control and arousal raging throughout his entire body, consuming him whole. grabbing his keys, he opens the front door of the apartment and takes off. 

JULY✧˚⋆

ᰔ you’re deep into summer now, the buzz of power lines gentle while the world spins on around you. everyone has settled into the season, your city now booming with vacationers– seasonal and first timers– while locals stick to tradition. you love it, the late night bonfires, the crowds along the pier, seasonal fruit stands and sunrises. july is a constant stream of life and excitement, you thrive in the feeling of endless possibilities. 

shortly after the first time megumi pulled up to your place, he found himself tapping his homescreen, waiting for your texts nightly. you’d call for him and he would show up, the gas tank full and heart beating fast. he’d drive you to the not so secret secret look out spot, a perfect view of the valley and the lake, before unfolding you in the backseat with lust alone. yet only he knows this himself, deep down, that megumi would’ve gladly ripped open his chest and handed you his heart if it meant you could stay by his side in the eternal summer heat.

over the past month, you realized you hadn’t learned much about megumi. you knew he was simple. liked what he liked and didn’t what he didn’t. he never did stuff he didn't want to do, but acted selflessly at times. he was smart, always the most intelligent person in the room, for better or for worse. there was an unnerving edge to the man’s impenetrable walls that irritated you. despite the lack of intimate exchanges of emotion, you could no longer deny the feelings you had when you were with him. you had to tell him.

you couldn’t shake the fear of everything crashing and burning, your heart being stomped on when you inevitably find megumi buried in another person. he shamelessly used women, gardening a persona of the stoic playboy while away at college. if someone asked for proof, he’s got more than enough ‘are you up?’ messages and shameless videos reeking from his phone, the stench of his sexual conquests known without the visuals. he’s been spending so much time with you. he wouldn’t have the time to be messing around with other people, right? you tell yourself. just have fun, it’s a fling. it’s just sex. nothing more… right?

most nights, you’re straddling megumi in the driver's seat, one hand bracing yourself on the wheel, the other sliding against the center console, and both of you moaning at the sight of you slowly sinking down on his cock. 

“god, you feel so good. this all for me?” he slurs at the warm hug your pussy greets him with, “just accept it, this filthy pussy is mine.” he fucks you open with precision, molding your insides to fit him and only him. you pant, your lips open in the prettiest shape and drool collecting in your mouth while the stretch of him burns just right. veins prominent like he’s pumping iron, he grips on the fat of your hips to hold you up, your legs shaking while you slam down to meet his hips halfway. everything is so lewd, sweat perspirated on your foreheads and pressed together to breathe the same air. your eyes meet and he whines, the slapping sound of his balls hitting your ass fills the car. 

leaning back a little, you arch your back and let the moonlight bathe you from the foggy windshield. the coolness of the air relieves you from heat of his body moments before. he’s slowed down now, pushing his cock up to bury itself deeper inside of you with a slow grind. bringing his hand up to smack your tit hard, he leaves you red before smoothing away the pain with a tug on your nipple. a free hand finds comfort on your back while he takes your breast it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and nipping playfully when he pulls away. meeting your gaze, megumi’s dick throbs inside you at the sight and you feel him thicken and speed up his pace. 

“ah! o-oh my,” you’re cut short by the graze of his teeth along your bare chest, ghosting bites and leaving wet kisses. your walls coax him in with every thrust. you’re close and he’s gone, you feel him chasing after his orgasm as he draws you closer to yours. 

“megumi please- don’t stop! right there, megumi, -ah!” 

megumi moans, ropes of hot cum spilling over his hands as he falls back his pillows. it’s been a week since you’ve texted him. it’s been a week since that time in the car and he’s still chasing that feeling of your slick dripping down his dick while you squeezed him of everything he’s got. he feels unsatisfied while he takes a tissue and cleans himself, longing for your tongue wrapping around him, swallowing the load he haphazardly tosses into the wastebin. 

raking his hands through his hair, loose strands fall back to cover his eyes, and he searches his bedsheets for his phone. chains of messages and attachments crowded his notification center but none from you. he was disinterested in everyone but you; he thought about you constantly, wondering what you were doing at any given moment. he was infatuated and beyond annoyed. why are you suddenly playing hard to get? why do i miss you so much?

he never worked this hard, he was overly confident in his skills of making women scream and curl in his hands. but your quiet remarks of praise, the smallest “yes, megumi” or “megumi it feels so good” he’d do anything to hear that breathy tone you used just for him. now it’s been a week and he’s starting to miss you more than ever. 

ᰔ everyone has their favorite time of day. there are people that chase dawn like a dream and those who thrive in the mid hours. there are people who wait, soaking in the maturity of time till the late hours. and yours, were the times of day you laid in bed with megumi. 

a few midnight dates later, the boundary between you two was redrawn as megumi chased your up the stairs to your place. after a long night of 21 questions and the pad of mad libs you bought together now complete, you had settled into the car seats with heads turned to share a gaze for what felt like an infinity. summer lived around you, the sounds of insects and faint traffic in the background but inside the car with megumi, you were forever frozen. his phone chimes and the moment faded under the fluorescent light. “do you want to get that?” you asked, looking at the phone and back at him. 

“no. not really.” he reached for your hand, flipping it so his palm is flat against yours. locking eyes with your own, he spoke softly, “i was wondering if i could stay the night.”

graduating from the backseat, the two of you learned your bodies moved in sync, following the same mess of footsteps in the hall and onto your bed. he spun his hands over every inch of your body, devoted all night and getting lost in you as if it was the first time all over again. afterwards you’d laugh hours into in the morning, waking to outstretch in an empty bed, wondering what time he left this time.  

 from the very night you slid into his passenger seat, you were trapped. locked in by seatbelt, megumi became the driver of your summer’s escapade. night after night, days turned weeks, you grew to purr for the sound of his engine pulling up to the street in front of your house. his smile, those words of adoration he lets slip when you touch on him just the way he likes. what was once playful was treading dangerous waters. you chewed the cherry stem of your milkshake and woke up in the concerned look drawn on gojo’s face. 

“have anything you wanna share with the group?” he teased, gesturing to the empty booth. you two would take a break in the week to catch up and meet at your favorite diner. normally it was all jokes and gossip. you made it a rule not to talk to gojo about his friends, the messy group being a tense subject for him at times, a can of worms that explodes into angst and a soured mood. you felt off based to talk to him about megumi, since all you know about their relationship is that it’s rocky. but a part of you is dying for solace and gojo knows megumi better than anyone, so you decide to take a chance. 

“i’m worried my feelings for megumi are more than a crush.” gojo looks up at you quick, surprised by your forthright response. “oh, we’re getting straight into it,” he pushes his drink out of the way and folds his hands attentive on the table, grinning like a fool. you hadn’t talked to him about megumi since he asked for permission to give the man your number. “shut up, you asked- and it’s not like it’s love or anything! we’ve only been hooking up, y’know, here and there.” you ramble, filling the silence with excuses and filler, dancing around what you truly mean to say. gojo could see right through you. the truth was, you did love megumi. you wanted to be with megumi more than anything.

“what if this isn’t just a summer fling?” you voice goes soft, breaking at the smallest words, “what if i’ve gone and fallen for the guy who was supposed to be temporary?” when you were with him, you felt so good, so real, something you had never felt before. the sex was incredible, but looking past that, things were different now from before. the situationship you signed up for was different. small talk turned playful in the late nights. suddenly, you were texting each other good night and awaiting at the photos he’d send at work or smiling with yuuji and nobara while hanging out, letting you know he was busy, but couldn’t wait to see you that night. 

“are you sure you want to get into something serious with that certified hoe? you can never trust them when they leave for school,” your friend laughs at his joke and you smile small. gojo can be nothing more than an antagonist at times, an echo of the voices screaming at you to end things with megumi. maybe they are right, you think.  “but maybe you should just talk to him.”

AUGUST✧˚⋆

ᰔ on day eight of radio silence from you, megumi broke his double texting rule and asked you to hangout. he was driving himself crazy, no longer able to stand the silence without you. he stared at the empty chat, hovering over the unsend button when three bubbles appeared on the screen. 

i’m free around 7. i think we should talk

talk?, he thought, what would we be talking about? he panicked, you must’ve met someone else. you were leaving him even though there was nothing to truly leave. ever since megumi has met you, his entire world has turned upside down, unable to find his heartbeat steady around you. at first it was lust, he couldn’t help but crave your touch. but as he tries to ease himself of this foreign feeling, megumi realizes his mistake.

your relationship had thrived off the simplicity of no strings attached, free from lingering feelings and unrequited love. but somewhere along the way, megumi got lost in tangled limbs and soiled sheets. you had woven every fiber of your being into a tight leash around his neck, reeling him back in every time. he wanted you to think he was a changed man. he is a changed man! he smooths his hands down his pants and sent you a short response back. he was determined to see you later that evening ready to convince you the best place for you was in his lap, with him. forever. 

you eyed the clock with dread, each tick crawling unbearably slow as you wait for megumi to arrive. when he texted earlier, you felt your stomach drop. after unintentionally ghosting him, you didn’t expect him to text you. it had been over a week since you had left his message unread, hoping he would get the hint and all your blossoming feelings would fade away with the memories of him in the fall.

so in the hour prior to his arrival, you pep talked in the mirror, you made lists of pro and cons, and battled with yourself on how to tell megumi you couldn’t see him anymore. when he got there, you were going to be firm and assertive, and tell him that you simply were not interested anymore! you were going to be honest about you feelings and lay all cards on the table, despite your anxiety saying otherwise. it was the mature thing to do, you told yourself.

when you open the door, megumi is on you, swallowing you whole by taking his head into your hands and locking your lips with his. he pushes you out of the door frame and the entire time you’re welcoming him deeper into your mouth. he kissed you with a thousand words of love and hoped you got the message. you break the kiss, lightly panting against his mouth. his hands were still holding your head close to his own, keeping you close and in arms reach.

“it’s been eight days,” he says low. “where have you been?” you’re surprised. from his initial kiss at the door to this now sudden care and concern. you search his eyes for clues and turned up empty. he was as distant as ever with a hint of fear swirling in his dark eyes, leaving you shrinking into your skin. he walked forward and you stepped back, moving further into the hall. meguimi’s arm reaches to block your passage in the hall, cornering you towards your bedroom. “well? are you gonna answer?” your heart quickens, all of your preplanned speeches disappearing from your mind when he’s looming over you. is he angry?

you’ve reached your bedroom, the door ajar. “i- i didn’t know how to tell you. can we talk please?” you sputter out, nervous now that he’s got you trapped against the door frame. megumi’s brows are knit together and his nostrils flare in irritation, you’ve never seen him angry, much less upset. his eyes looked cloudy and you desperately yearned to reverse time. you’re stepping into the dark room and he follows. 

from the moment the door shuts, he’s tearing yours and his clothes off and pushing you onto the bed. he’s more eager than normal, his pants tight from his erection and hands shaking just slightly. he takes ahold of your chin and ushers you into a kiss, shimming out your pants. you slide a hand to his cheek and let his tongue meld with yours. “i don’t want to talk right now,” he says like a secret. he exhales and lets his mouth shift to smear open mouthed kisses against yours and down your neck. you lift your arms up to let him take off your shirt, catching you as you fall back to the bed. he pulls off his own and lowers himself to kiss down your chest. 

he suckles on your skin, love bites and bruises swelling in his wake, while his grip is tight on your waist, dragging your hips against his erection and guiding your legs to wrap around his body. he looks up at you with pleading eyes,“ just let me love you. one last time,” he breaths against your tummy, hugging your middle tight. you feel heat bloom in your gut, your walls clenching under his gaze. you look away, shy, and attempt to cover the blush dusting your cheeks. he smacks a wet kiss on your cheek before rolling onto the bed beside you. in that split second, the room spins and your heart beats with the warmth of his body besides you. your heart swells, did he just say love? 

the belt clanks as he undos it and pulls his pants down in one movement. he situates you on your knees around his head, blown pupils lost in the other as you look down at him. “are you ready?” he asks. you nod and he hums with acknowledgement. with that, you rise up to all fours and let his arms weave between your legs. he repositions himself to have his face aligned with your cunt and exhales with satisfaction at the sight. 

almost as if he’s seeing you for the first time, megumi’s heart pumps desire through his body. you knew exactly how to get him riled up more than anyone else and you’ve barely even touched him. “it’s been so long since i’ve tasted this pussy,” he groans, drinking in the view of you, legs wide and trembling at the strain of the position he has you in. “i missed you.” 

his eyes float back to your weeping cunt in front of him. he feels your body tremble with anticipation, his breath fawning over your skin and stare burning into you. he moves his index finger around your hole, inspecting it, pulling your sticky lips apart and licking them clean and you gasp.. you lower yourself down to elbows and let a glob of spit fall onto his cock, stroking him as he pulls your pussy apart by the threads. “fuck, that feels good,” he sputters, thrusting up as you take him into your mouth. you gag on him, tears collecting in your eyes, “did you miss me too?” he teases, his voice low and sets the hairs on your body on edge. the blood is rushing to your head and megumi’s teasing leaves you hot and dizzy. matching sloppy circles with your slurping of his cock, megumi slots his fingers in your hole and focuses on your clit throbbing and pulsating in his mouth. 

“mm.. you did. look at this mess,” your moans vibrate around his shaft when he pushes two fingers inside you shallowly. he lets them tease you and focuses on the erect bundles of nerves at the top of your pussy. he peels the hood of your clit back and lets himself suck on you further, lets his head get crushed between your locked legs no longer slack in his grasp. his fingers are deep, further in you than before, dragging sweet pressure along your walls. the pleasure he’s giving you making you grind along his face. he ruthlessly slams his hips up into your open jaw, balls hitting your chin as your spit pools pathetically out of your mouth from the overstimulation of everything. his dick slips out of your mouth while you choke out for air, your throat stretched from his rough thrusts. you rest your head on his thigh and watch his cock bob while he buries his face between your legs.

your resistance wearing thin, your mind spins with each stroke along your walls. “megumi, i’m gonna cum!” he’s coaxing you open, letting your slick drip down his fingers, squelching and filth fills the room. you unfurl in his hands into a wet mess, and megumi eat you like a man starved. you can feel your orgasm hurling towards you when he sucks your clit back into his mouth, letting your mind go numb with pleasure. megumi groans when you spill into his mouth, he watches you cream around his fingers before licking them clean. 

cleaning you of your sugar sweet essence, spread thick and shiny on his lips and chin, he throws you forward to face the foot of the bed. you feel his bare chest slide along your back, allowing one hand to trace the curves and dents of your body. he feels up every inch of your exposed skin before laying his palm flat on your shoulder, shoving you flat against the mattress. “tell me you want me,” you can’t breathe and his fingers walk up your arm meeting in the crevices of your knuckles.”tell me you need it, you need me to make you feel this good.”  your ass is up, pussy fluttering in response to his airy voice, hot and slow against the shell of your ear.

 “ y/n, tell me you need me.” 

he rocks his hips against your ass, pushing his cock down to slide between your folds and coat himself. he fucks your wet thighs, groaning selfishly while you vibrate for him. you’re so sensitive and his tip catches your clit with every stroke. you're wrapped up in his scent, his sweat, every sensation and brush of his body on yours more than you can handle. all of his actions are so drawn out and agonizing, his very touch leaving you raw, your senses overloaded. interlocking his hand over yours, he laces his fingers so tight it hurts. 

“please, hurry, i-” he slides himself inside of you without warning, pushing past the resistance of your walls and letting your initial pain manifest in tight squeezes instead. “oh my god, it feels so good,” you gasp out, moans cascading from your lips while you adjust to his length he hisses and pulls your ass apart to watch the rest of him get enveloped in your silken pussy. you twitch and reflexively rut back against him, chasing your orgasm, and using him for pleasure. “i need you, megumi. please, don’t tease anymore,” you whine and let your ass bounce back against him once more. he grins wicked and his eyes rolls at the needy cling of your heat around him. 

both hands grab at your waist, pinching it tight as he fucks you rough, dragging your body along his shaft without forgiveness. he works his hands in your hair, pulling at the roots to yank you upright, your limp body a whimpering wreck, like putty in his hands. with you against his chest, he angles himself just right to continue thrusting into your sopping pussy. his hand holds your hips down and your back bows when the other forcefully cups over your mouth, muffling your moans. megumi has never been this rough with you, more often than not, gentle and serving, not handling you without a care. your thoughts are screaming his name and your body is on fire under his touch. with every thrust, he finds heaven between your soft thighs. 

his hips fumble and are sloppy as he ruts into you, “i’m gonna cum. oh fuck- cum with me.” messy fingers meet your clit as megumi rushes to pull another orgasm out from you. you’re seeing white when megumi spills his cum inside of you, warm and thick, your pussy milking him. panting, the two of you fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs, exasperated and smiling. you whine when he pulls his half hard cock of out you, your pussy sensitive and sore when you feel his cum push out of you with every achy throb. 

stillness settles in the room, but the awkward silence is suffocating. after sex, you’d have to pry megumi off of you, his still sweaty body stuck to yours while he peppers you with kisses and adoration. he treated you like the most precious woman in the world and laying beside you is another man. you turned your head to look at him. his stare was focused on the ceiling, unmoving, his body looked tense. your let your hand skate to his side, where you nestled your fingers within his. your fingers are soft and comforting, all of his nerves soothing at the slightest touch. 

“is everything alright?” you ask with concern and megumi wants to cry for the first time in a long time. was he ready to lose you already, he asked himself. he mourned the memories you hadn’t created together in the ceiling fan whirs. he can’t speak, all his words on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t seem to muster the strength to tell you about his feelings. you sigh and release his hand, tucking yours together in your lap. 

“i wanted to talk to you about us. summer is coming to an end and i’m afraid i can’t keep doing this. i think it’d be best, for the both of us. things can just go back to normal,” his ears are ringing, the blood drumming so loud it’s drowning out your voice. megumi feels like he’s sinking in the ocean, watching your body float above him and leaving him to drown in murky waters. “you’ll go back to college and i’ll stay her. i’m sure you have a bunch of.. people waiting for you,” you force a smile and he sees insecurity crack in it. of course it’s about his (erm) history with women. he feels the shame and pain of every woman he had left broken, making them feel alone. to make matters worse, you’re so calm and collected, he feels like he doesn’t even deserve your kind rejection. he wasn’t ready to lose you. not yet. 

“megumi, are you listening to me?” you ask. when his face turns to meet yours devastation written all over it, his eyes look misty like he was on the verge of crying. “megumi! what’s wrong?” 

“so that’s it? you’re done with me? i don’t want things to go back to normal. i love you! i love you and- and you’re just afraid! after all everything we’ve been through, our time meant something to me. i thought we had something. not just a summer fling.” his words knock the air from your lungs– love?! of all the things you had prepared for, having your feelings be reciprocated was last on the list. you tingled with joy, the sensation making you high. 

“i haven’t been with anyone else. it’s only been you, since we met. i don’t want to be with anyone else” megumi rolls onto his side to stare at you, hoping his words reached you, and that you’d receive them with open arms and change your mind. your hand knots itself in his hair when you kiss him, fast and overly excited. he smiles against your lips and deepens the kiss.

“i love you too.”

- a few months later

“baby, can you believe it’s december 5th already? i’ll be home in two more days.” megumi pulls his scarf up to cover his mouth, cold air puffing from his mouth. he was on his way home from class when he called you, relieved from finishing his last exam day and hearing your voice. his smile is hidden from the camera, but you see it anyways  

“i can’t believe the semester is over already. i can’t wait to see you,” you giggle while tying the slipnot of your current crochet project, it’s a hobby you’ve recently picked up, gifting out mittens and hats to all your friends when the temperatures dropped. 

“i’m ready to be home with you.” he says. things with megumi have been more than expected. since he’s left for school, you talk daily, receiving the same adorable photos, most of the time of him studying or out on campus. you share pictures of you on the quad with yuuji and voice memos telling him how you miss him. he’s come back twice for long weekends, surprising you after your last friday class, and taking you for lost time. things couldn’t be any better. 

the two of you chat all the way to his dorm, making plans for his return, and reminding him not to forget gojo’s birthday gift when he leaves. 

“i love you megumi! i’ll see you soon”

[sneevl13t]

my man ill draw your ocs when im motivated 🔥🔥🔥

Reblog this if you're okay with people drawing your ocs

[jay-justjay]

Weird headcannon but I imagine there’s a portion of the Omega Timeline that just simps for the bad guys.

Like, there’s a dedicated fanfic site and everything. They discuss who they ship, and get into wars about it… but most of the time it’s “x Reader”

Thing is, they don’t know jackshit about how each member actually acts. They never met any of em before and are going off of what Ink says.

They think:

Cross is a sigma alpha male

Killer is a sexy fuckboy

Murder is named Dust and is also the murderous emo boyfriend

Horror is a walking stuffed animal who indulges in cannibalism

And that Nightmare is a hotass King of Darkness and emo with a secret soft spot.

So needless to say, Killer is very confused upon being saved and sent to the OT. He didn’t expect for there to be an entire fanclub of simps on his ass…

Cross just goes “yeah they do that” and Killer is even more confused