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222hyunju · 8 days ago

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my friend is so talented ♡

diet pepsi. - a thangyu x reader fic

warnings: minors dni!! smutsmutsmut, reader has female genitalia! dom!thanos and namgyu, sub!reader, alcohol/drug use, thanos and namgyu do coke off readers thigh., lots of tension, nicknames like baby, senorita, sweetheart, slut, etc. groping, dry humping, throat fucking, DEGRADING, praise, fingering, overstimulation, edging, rough/unprotected sex, lowkey hand kink if you squint, mean namgyu, thanos is his own warning

an: my first smut so im sorry if its not up to your expectations! this is my interpretation of the characters so im sorry if it doesn’t line up with what you think. this is a looooonnnnngggggg fic so feel free to just skip to the smut :) tips and constructive criticism are appreciated ♡ i love you all!!

the club is alive. neon lights cut through the smoky air, pulsing in sync with the heavy bass that vibrates through the floor. the scent of sweat, spilled liquor, and cheap cologne clings to the space, thick and intoxicating. people move together on the dance floor, their bodies lost in the music, hands on waists, lips brushing against flushed skin.

but you? you're perched at the bar, untouched by the chaos, sipping on a tall glass of diet pepsi like it's the most expensive cocktail in the room. the ice clinks softly as you swirl it, the carbonation fizzing against your lips with every sip. you can feel the eyes on you, burning the back of your skull.

"you've gotta be kidding me," a voice cuts through the noise, rich with amusement.

the man who speaks leans against the counter beside you, elbow propped up, silver chains glinting under the neon glow. his entire presence is draped in black, fitted slacks, an unbuttoned silk shirt that teases the sharp lines of his collarbone. a silver ring catches the light as he lazily runs a hand through his dark wolfcut, the layered strands shifting effortlessly back into place. his eyes, hooded but keen, flicker from your drink to your face, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"soda? that's your drink of choice tonight?"

just behind him, another figure looms, exuding a different kind of presence. one that commands attention without needing to ask for it. his hair is an unmistakable shade of deep purple, styled just messy enough to look effortless. a thick silver cross hangs from his neck, draped over the colorful top he has on in contrast to the man next to him. his frame is broad, his gaze sharp, with dark eyes scanning you with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier.

the purple haired man slides into the seat on your other side, his presence heavier, more controlled. he's holding a glass of dark whiskey, fingers wrapped around the crystal like he owns the place. he takes a slow sip, then sets it down with a soft *clink* before eyeing you. "she's different," he muses, voice smooth, almost approving. "everyone here is drowning in shots, and you're sipping soda like you're above it all."

you shrug, tilting your head slightly, letting their words settle before taking another sip. the cold fizz lingers on your tongue. "maybe i just like the taste."

the man dressed in black huffs a quiet laugh, studying you like he's trying to figure out a puzzle. his dark eyes flicker between your face and your drink, intrigued. "nah. you could go to any lousy restaurant and get a soda. you just like being in control."

"maybe," you admit, setting your glass down gently, fingers tracing the rim. you glance between them, eyes sharp, playful. "or maybe i just like watching idiots like you two get wasted while i stay sober enough to remember every bad decision you make."

you shift your gaze fully back to the other man with the colorful hair as he chuckles, shaking his head as he swirls his drink. "you think we’re the ones making bad decisions?"

the other leans in, closing the space between you just enough that you catch the faintest trace of his cologne. his voice dips lower, smoother, almost dangerous. "nah, sweetheart. you’re in the club with us. that means you already made one."

"i’m namgyu," he finally says, his name rolling off his tongue smoothly, like it belongs in this space, like it belongs in your ears. his gaze flickers to yours, watching for a reaction.

beside him, the taller man leans against the bar, arms crossed, the silver cross around his neck resting against the multicolored fabric of his shirt. his deep purple hair falls slightly over his forehead as he looks at you.

"thanos," he says simply, copying the other’s tone.

namgyu rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he glances at thanos. "real smooth," he teases before turning back to you. "and you? got a name, or are we just calling you diet pepsi all night?"

you consider your options. give them your name? keep them guessing? call their bluff and see how long they’ll humor this back-and-forth?

“diet pepsi’s fine.”

the smirk lingers on namgyu’s lips as he watches you take another slow sip, your eyes flickering between him and thanos like you’re weighing your options. the beat of the music feels as if it’s pressing into your skin, but here at the bar, time seems to slow.

thanos leans back slightly, taking another sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down. “so, what’s your deal, really?” he asks, his gaze steady, measuring. “you don’t drink, but you come here anyway. just for fun?”

before you can answer, namgyu leans in slightly, dropping his voice just enough to make it feel like a secret. “don’t tell me you’re waiting for someone.” his dark eyes flicker. “because that would just be tragic.”

thanos hums in agreement, though his gaze stays steady on yours. “if you are,” he says, “they’re late.”

you stare at the two in amusement before letting your eyes land on namgyu. “i’m not waiting on anyone. i’m here alone.”

namgyu chuckles, shaking his head. “you’re a real mystery, you know that?” he shifts, resting his chin on his hand as he studies you. “the kind that makes guys do stupid things just to figure you out.”

namgyu grins, sitting up suddenly, his silver rings catching the neon light. “you’re obviously not shy about standing out. let’s see if you can keep up.”

“with what?” you arch a brow.

“why don’t you dance with us, hm?” thanos whispers into your ear, sending a nervous shiver down your spine.

you hesitate, just for a second. the music shifts to something darker, sultrier, and the bodies on the dance floor move with a different kind of intensity.

“i don’t know,” you muse. “i was kind of enjoying my view from here.”

thanos tuts, reaching for your wrist—not forceful, but insistent. “come on, why don’t you give us a chance?”

with a slow, deliberate movement, you set your glass down and slide off the stool, your fingers slipping into thanos’ for just a moment before you pull away, stepping toward the dance floor. namgyu quickly follows, grinning. he watches, shaking his head.

the air is thick with sweat and bass as you step onto the dance floor, the bodies around you moving in time with the pulsing beat. the lights flash overhead, cutting through the darkness in streaks of electric blue and crimson. namgyu is close behind, his energy crackling with anticipation, while thanos lingers just a step back, observing.

thanos doesn’t hesitate. the moment you're in the thick of it, his hands find your waist, fingers grazing the fabric of your dress like he’s daring you to pull away. “no backing out, senorita,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

you smirk, letting the music guide your movements as you press your body into his just enough to make a point. “who said anything about backing out?”

his grip tightens slightly, and for once, thanos seems momentarily caught off guard, not by your words, but by the way you move, effortlessly matching his rhythm. he recovers fast, though, flashing that signature grin, the one that makes it impossible to tell if he’s planning something charming or reckless. namgyu watches, arms crossed, lips curved in mild amusement.

“you just gonna stand there?” you call over the music, throwing a glance over your shoulder at him.

thanos laughs, spinning you so your back is against his chest. his breath is warm against your ear. “don’t pay him too much mind, he’ll get out here when he feels like it.”

you hum, tilting your head slightly, your body still moving in sync with the music. “and when will that be?”

for a moment, namgyu just watches you, his dark eyes taking you in like he’s trying to find the answer to a question you haven’t even asked. then, instead of responding, he walks up to you and reaches out, fingers brushing against you. it’s subtle, nothing like thanos’ reckless touches, but it sends a wave of energy through your body.

thanos notices, of course. he always does. his grin widens, but there’s something sharp behind it now, something almost territorial. “careful, gyu,” he mutters. “wouldn’t want you getting in over your head.”

namgyu doesn’t flinch. “you assume i don’t already know what i’m doing.”

your heart pounds from the way the air between the three of you seems to thicken. without thinking, you carefully place your hands over namgyu’s shoulders while simultaneously pushing yourself back on thanos.

“holy shit,” thanos mutters, his hard-on evident against your back. namgyu watches with inviting eyes, letting you run your hands all over his shirt before unbuttoning a few at the top.

thanos spins you back around, his eyes dark with something unreadable. namgyu lingers just close enough to make his presence known. namgyu puts his hands on your waist, replacing thanos’ as thanos brings his hands up to your chest. you let yourself get completely lost in the feeling. lost in the feeling of two attractive men who treat you like you’re the only girl in the world while the music only seems to get louder.

one second, namgyu is there, watching, kneading at the skin on your waist, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. the next, he’s gone.

thanos doesn’t seem to notice or care. “you’re holding back,” he murmurs, voice low against your ear. “thought you were supposed to be the one in control.”

you just smirk, letting your hips roll a little slower, a little more deliberate, watching the way his breath catches. “and yet,” you tease, “you’re the one trying so hard to keep up with me.”

thanos opens his mouth, probably to throw back some cocky remark, but before he can, namgyu is back.

you feel his presence before you see him, the shift in energy, the weight of his stare. when you turn, he’s standing just behind you like he was earlier, only this time he has something with him.

in his ringed hand, he holds something dark and rich swirling in a shot glass held carefully between his fingers.

he doesn’t say anything at first, just studies you with that expression of his before lifting the glass toward your lips.

“it’s not too strong,” he finally says, voice smooth, steady. “i promise.”

you raise a brow, amusement flickering in your eyes. “and what exactly is this?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he tilts the glass just slightly, close enough that you catch the faint scent, something smoky, laced with something sweet. not whiskey. not tequila. something else.

“something i think you’ll like” he finally says.

you hesitate, lips just barely brushing the rim of the glass, your pulse steady despite the way the moment stretches. there’s something almost intimate in the way namgyu is watching you, the way his fingers hover just close enough that if you moved even a fraction, they’d brush against your skin.

and maybe it’s reckless, maybe this is exactly the kind of bad decision you swore you wouldn’t make, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to play along.

so, you part your lips and take the shot.

the liquid burns, but not in the way you expect. it’s smoother than you thought it would be, rich and dark, with a lingering heat that settles low in your stomach. there’s a hint of something you can’t quite place, something familiar yet foreign, a contradiction in itself.

they both watch, waiting.

you swallow, letting the warmth settle, then tilt your head, eyes locked on namgyu. “not bad,” you admit.

his lips twitch, just barely, almost like he was expecting that answer.

thanos, on the other hand, scoffs. “you would just take anything we give you, isn’t that right?”

namgyu‘s lips barely quirk into a smile, “what a whore, grinding on a dude she just met while letting another feed her a random drink.”

they talk about you like you’re not there.

you should be upset that namgyu just called you a whore, but with whatever drink he just gave you coursing through your veins, it only makes your hips move quicker against thanos.

namgyu watches you for a beat, as if making sure he has your full attention, then leans in slightly. his voice is low, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the back of the club. “i wanna show you something.”

you glance at thanos, who raises a brow, looking almost amused. but there’s something else there too, like he knows something you don’t. he doesn’t say anything, just runs a hand through his hair, then gestures for you to follow.

namgyu leads the way, cutting through the crowd with the kind of quiet confidence that makes people instinctively step aside. you walk between them, thanos at your back, the heavy beat of the music fading slightly as you move toward a secluded hallway.

a bouncer stands at the entrance of a dimly lit doorway, arms crossed over his chest. he barely acknowledges thanos and namgyu before stepping aside, letting the three of you pass without question.

the room inside is different from the rest of the club, more intimate, more controlled. the neon chaos is replaced with softer lighting, casting long shadows against the sleek furniture. a plush leather couch stretches along the wall, occupied by a few others, people who exude the same energy as thanos and namgyu. confident. dangerous. unbothered.

a tall man with a bunch of tattoos and gold rings stacked on his fingers lounges in the corner, swirling a glass of something dark. a woman in a sleek black dress sits beside him, legs crossed, her gaze flicking toward you with mild interest. you study all of the people in the room with an intense focus.

thanos gestures toward the couch, wordlessly inviting you to sit. you hesitate, just for a second, then lower yourself onto the soft leather. namgyu drops down beside you with a lazy grin, slinging an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulder.

thanos takes a seat across from you, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.

“this is different,” you mutter, glancing between the both of them, waiting for someone to fill the silence that lingers in the air.

namgyu chuckles and tilts your head back, “not really that loud environment you love, is it?”

before you can say anything, thanos lifts a hand in the air, and almost instantly, one of the guys at the far end of the room pulls something from his jacket, setting a small, velvet-lined box on the table between you.

your eyes flicker to it, curiosity sparking.

namgyu leans in, smirking. “still feeling in control, hm?”

your pulse ticks up. not with fear, but with something else. anticipation. excitement.

you meet thanos’s gaze, steady and unwavering, and rest your fingers lightly against the table in front of you.

“i guess that depends,” you murmur, tilting your head. “what exactly am i looking at?”

you run your tongue over your bottom lip, leaning forward slightly, your fingertips tracing the box in front of you.

namgyu grins, reaching for the box with slow, deliberate movements, as if he’s savoring the anticipation. “that,” he says, flipping open the lid with a flick of his wrist, “depends on what kind of night you’re looking for.”

inside, nestled against black velvet, are a few neatly wrapped packets. small, unassuming, but unmistakable. alongside them, a clear bag of colorful pills. whatever it is, it looks odd. and probably illegal.

your expression doesn’t change, but you feel namgyu watching you, waiting for a reaction.

you lift your eyes to thanos. he’s still calm, unreadable, but there’s something expectant in the way he holds himself. he’s testing you. not just your curiosity, but your control.

“you think this is my kind of thing?” you ask.

namgyu laughs, slouching back against the couch, his fingers resting your shoulder. “oh, i don’t know,” he muses. “you’re full of surprises.”

thanos leans forward slightly, resting his hands on his knees. “it’s not about what we think,” he says. “it’s about what you want.”

you exhale softly, tapping your nails against namgyu’s leg. the music from the club outside is distant now, like a heartbeat pulsing just beneath the surface.

“i don’t do cheap thrills,” you say, flicking your eyes between the two men.

namgyu sighs, shaking his head. “you really are something else, aren’t you?”

you smirk, reaching for the box, examining the powder. “took you this long to figure that out?”

thanos leans back, watching you with content eyes as you slowly rip open the bag he gives a nod to namgyu and with a silent understanding, namgyu carefully takes the bag from your hands.

namgyu nudges your knee with his own, looking at the bag you earlier opened. “i wanna try something, if you trust us?”

you consider his question, aware of the weight it carries. trust is a delicate thing, especially with people you've just met. while the evening has been enjoyable, it's natural to feel cautious.

“trust isn't something to be given lightly. it's earned." you whisper, looking at namgyu’s ringed hands.

namgyu’s grin widens, his eyes following your gaze. thanos watches closely, a glint of approval in his eyes.

namgyu shakes his head like he can’t decide whether to be impressed or frustrated. “you love playing hard to get, don’t you?”

you smirk, shifting just slightly so your knee brushes against his. “i just like keeping you guessing.”

“yeah? maybe we like to keep you guessing, sweetheart.” without a second beat, namgyu carefully holds the open bag of powder and tilts it slightly, the substance spilling over your leg.

you gasp, looking over at thanos, who seems to be enjoying this. the way he studies you, the way he lets you navigate the tension in the room, it’s deliberate. he doesn’t take his eyes off your leg, coated with a white powder.

“namgyu,” he mumbles, “it’s not fair that you get to have all the fun.”

namgyu nods over to thanos, who quickly gets up from his chair across from you. you watch as he makes room on the other side of the leather couch, knee brushing against yours.

you try not to let the dip in the couch shake the powder dancing across your thigh, waiting for the next move.

the others in the room have gone back to their own conversations, but you can feel their awareness, the way they’re still listening, still watching.

namgyu hands the bag to thanos, who happily takes the bag of the remaining substance into his tattooed hands.

thanos grins, his fingers playing idly with the plastic. “you’re enjoying this,” he says easily. “the power play. the fact that we’re both sitting here trying to figure you out, and you love every second of it.”

you don’t deny it. you don’t confirm it either.

instead, you lean back against the couch, letting your gaze drift between the two of them. “you two are just fun to play with.”

thanos simply watches you, quiet for a moment before nodding, following namgyu’s earlier movements and pouring the remaining substance onto your thigh. “fair enough.”

your breath hitches in your throat, trying not to show how nervous you really are.

namgyu leans forward, slow and deliberate, until he’s just close enough that you can feel the warmth of him against your leg, presence like a storm waiting to break. his voice is low, meant only for you.

“do you still trust us, sweetheart?”

the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous. namgyu doesn’t move away, doesn’t blink, he’s giving you a choice. you can pull back, keep the control you claim to love, or you can see just how far this power play goes.

thanos watches with thinly veiled amusement. his fingers drum lazily against your thigh, but there’s a sharpness in his gaze, an anticipation like he’s waiting for something to break.

you hold namgyu’s stare, letting the silence stretch. then, ever so slowly, you tilt your chin down slightly, just enough to match his proximity.

“yes” you murmur, voice steady despite the way your pulse ticks up.

in the blink of an eye, almost like they planned it, both namgyu and thanos go down until their noses gently brush against your thigh, breathing in the thick powder.

namgyu’s movements are slow, getting all he can, while thanos’ movements are messy and quick.

thanos throws his head back against the couch with a loud, “fuck!”

namgyu rests his head against your thigh now, breathing heavily. once he takes a final deep breath, feeling the drug flow through his body, he leans up, face inches away from your chest and stares darts into your eyes.

namgyu lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “shit, this is good.”

you sit there, completely frozen.

did you seriously just let two strangers do coke off your thigh?

you let out a shaky breath, letting your gaze rest on thanos instead of the man so close to you. you watch his adam’s apple bob up and down, before he pulls his head from the back of the couch and gives you a lazy smile, his eyes half-hooded.

“you look tense," he rumbles, voice thick with amusement. "you want some, pretty?

your face contorts into one of disgust, your stomach twisting at the casual arrogance in his tone.

"i'm good," you say flatly, shifting away slightly, but his gaze never wavers.

thanos chuckles, deep and slow, like he finds your reaction amusing. his tatted fingers drum idly against the arm of the couch.

"suit yourself," he muses, stretching his arms out, taking up a good bit of the couch. "but you should learn to relax. i don’t bite… unless you ask nicely."

your jaw clenches. you’re not sure what’s worse, the teasing or the fact that he’s so unbothered about it.

"you really should take it as a compliment," namgyu murmurs, tilting his head to glance up at you once more. his voice is smooth but hoarse, as if he’s simply observing rather than intruding. "he doesn’t offer this to just anyone."

thanos exhales through his nose, something between a sigh and a chuckle. he shifts in his seat, leaning back slightly, legs spread that silver cross dangles against his chest, rising and falling with each slow breath.

“come here, angel.”

it’s not a question. it’s not even a request. it’s a command wrapped in something deceptively soft.

the weight of the words sends something sharp through your spine, something thrilling and unexpected. you hesitate, not because you don’t want to, but because thanos doesn’t seem like the type to say things just to say them. he expects you to listen.

you pull yourself off the couch for a moment, and thanos lifts a hand, resting it lightly against your hip. not pulling, just holding it there, solid and steady.

and when you finally settle onto his lap, his other hand finds your thigh, fingers curling just enough to hold you in place. his body is warm, solid beneath you. and the way he exhales, just the slightest shift in his breath, like this is exactly where he wanted you.

“comfortable?” he asks, low and smooth.

you nod slowly, feeling the warmth of thanos beneath you, the weight of his hands keeping you in place. his fingers flex just slightly against your thigh.

but your eyes? your eyes drift to namgyu.

he’s watching you. watching this.

his hair falls slightly over his face, shadowing his hooded gaze. “you look good like that,” he murmurs, lips curving into something just short of a smirk.

thanos hums, low and satisfied, his grip on you tightening just slightly. “she does, doesn’t she?” his deep voice tickling the shell of your ear.

your pulse kicks up, just a little. maybe it’s the way they’re looking at you. maybe it’s the weight of the moment. or maybe it’s the way you can feel thanos’ slow, steady breath against your neck while namgyu watches you from across the small space between you.

namgyu exhales through his nose, shaking his head like he’s amused. “and here i thought you’d be the one making us work for it,” he smiles, dark eyes glinting. “but look at you.”

thanos’ hand trails idly along your thigh, his fingers toying with the hem of your dress. he doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him as he shifts beneath you, in the way his hold stays firm.

“you sure you can handle both of us, hm?” namgyu says, like he already knows the answer.

your breath catches, just for a second.

thanos shifts beneath you, his fingers pressing slightly into your thigh while his dick is just inches away from where you need it most. his body is solid beneath you, steady, as if grounding you even as the energy between the three of you sharpens.

you look up, meeting namgyu’s gaze head-on. “you sound confident,” you murmur, voice steady despite the way your pulse is racing. “you sure it’s me who should be worried?”

namgyu’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he exhales a quiet laugh. “oh she’s got a fucking mouth on her, huh?”

thanos hums in agreement, his grip on your waist tightening for just a moment before relaxing again. “i noticed.”

you bite your lip as you feel thanos start to slowly rock your against his own, trying to find some friction. you can feel how wet you are, and you’re sure he can, too.

you shift slightly on thanos’s lap, just to see if he’ll react. he throws his head back on the couch and looks up at the ceiling, letting his eyes shut at the feeling.

namgyu notices, of course he does. he pulls your chin up to look him in the eyes as you rock against thanos, pulling your lip from between your teeth and dragging his finger against the plush skin.

“you like putting on a show, don’t you?” his dark eyes flicker with something teasing, “slut.”

your breath catches as you clench around nothing, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say smoothly, tilting your head just enough to feign innocence.

namgyu exhales a short laugh, shaking his head.“oh, you definitely do,” he muses, the corner of his mouth curling. “look at you, desperately moving on thanos’ lap, acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

thanos hums in agreement, almost not noticing your hips stutter to a stop. you shift slightly, moving to lift yourself off thanos’s lap, the tension crackling between the three of you thick enough to drown in.

“did i say stop?” namgyu asks, thumb pressing into your chin harshly.

you swallow, lips parting, but namgyu’s thumb presses a little harder against your chin, stopping whatever excuse you were about to give.

“go on,” he murmurs, “tell us you don’t love this attention.”

thanos exhales, low and steady, his presence behind you solid, unshaken. "she does," he groans, pulling his head off the couch. “she just wants to see what happens if she runs.”

namgyu clicks his tongue, shaking his head like he’s disappointed. “bad habit, sweetheart.” his grip on your chin softens just slightly, but his eyes stay sharp. “didn’t your parents teach you that if you start something, you finish it?”

a soft, needy sound escapes you before you can stop it. a quiet whine, barely audible over the faint murmurs of the others, the distant music of the club, but loud enough for them to hear. loud enough for namgyu’s eyes to widen.

“jesus christ,” thanos smiles, pushing his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there.

namgyu exhales a slow breath, shaking his head. “fucking pathetic,” he smiles, his voice dripping with amusement. “barely had to do anything, and you’re already desperate.” his thumb traces your jaw again, the cool metal of his rings grounding against your flushed skin.

behind you, thanos hums in quiet agreement, his breath warm against your ear. “guess she just needed a little push.” his tone is smooth, but you feel the satisfaction in the way he holds you in place. “didn’t take much, either.”

“you were made to be ruined.” namgyu mutters.

your lips part, but no sound comes out. you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat, but even that feels like too much effort under their gaze. your eyes dart between them, looking back at thanos with wide eyes.

"people will see," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

namgyu's smirk deepens, something dark flickering in his gaze as he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. the weight of his touch makes it impossible to ignore him.

"that's the problem, angel," he murmurs, voice smooth as silk. "you like that, don’t you?"

behind you, thanos chuckles lowly. his grip on you tightens just slightly, like he's making sure you don’t even think about pulling away. "she does," he muses, his breath warm against your ear. "that little shiver? that wasn’t fear." his fingers trail down your side. "that was excitement.”

your breath catches, a new wave of heat rushing through you. just outside the door, the club is packed, neon lights flashing, bodies moving in sync with the music. yet here, in their hold, it’s like the rest of the world fades into a blur.

namgyu leans in just a fraction more, his lips brushing against your cheek. “let them watch,” he whispers, his voice laced with something wicked. “let them see who you really belong to.”

his fingers tighten around your chin, tilting your face up just the way he wants before his lips crash against yours, hot and demanding. there’s nothing gentle about it. he kisses you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

his teeth graze your bottom lip before he bites down, just hard enough to make you gasp. It’s all the invitation he needs before his tongue slips past your parted lips, deepening the kiss.

“see?” he murmurs, pulling away from your lips. “you love being handled.”

“please,” you mutter, completely at their mercy.

namgyu laughs, almost as if he’s making fun of you. “please?” he repeats, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “that’s all you’ve got?”

thanos exhales a quiet chuckle behind you, “i think she can do better than that,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “doesn’t sound desperate enough yet.”

namgyu nods his head in agreement, his fingers ghosting down your throat, silver rings cool against your heated skin. “c’mon,” he coaxes. “if you really want more, you know how to ask for it.”

you swallow hard, your lips parting as you whisper, “please… i need—”

namgyu tuts, cutting you off with a slow shake of his head. “not good enough.” his fingers tighten just slightly against your neck tilting your face up toward him again. “say it properly, sweetheart. tell us exactly what you need.”

thanos lets out a low hum of approval, his hands sliding just a fraction lower. “be a good girl,” he murmurs. “use your words.”

you exhale a shaky breath, your fingers curling into namgyu’s shirt as you finally let go of the last shred of hesitation.

“please,” you whisper, voice raw, needy. “i want you.”

namgyu’s smirk deepens, his grip tightening, his lips barely ghosting over yours. “that’s more like it.”

and then, he kisses you again, harder this time, hungrier, like he’s been waiting for this just as much as you have.

behind you, thanos says, “see?” he murmurs against your ear, voice low and teasing. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” His fingers slide down, his touch slow, like he’s testing how much you can take.

namgyu’s teeth graze your bottom lip before he pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your mouth. “so eager,” he mutters, amusement laced in his tone.

thanos smiles. “bet you’d let us do anything we wanted, wouldn’t you?” his hands dancing across your inner thigh, inches away from where you need him most. “just as long as we keep giving you what you want.”

your breath catches, your body betraying you before you can even think of a response.

namgyu studies you for a moment, then, without warning, grabs your wrist, his grip firm but unyielding.

“get up,” he orders, voice low and commanding.

thanos doesn’t hesitate either. his hands slide back to your waist, steady and possessive as he helps you off his lap, lingering just long enough to make sure you feel the loss of his touch. the moment you’re standing, namgyu tugs you forward, moving through the small group of people who pay you no mind.

you barely have time to process where they’re leading you before namgyu stops in front of an unmarked door, tucked away in a dark corner of the club. he doesn’t knock. he doesn’t hesitate. he simply pushes it open and drags you inside.

the room is dimly lit, quiet compared to the rest of the club, the muffled bass still thrumming through the walls. an office, by the looks of it, sleek leather couches, a heavy wooden desk, liquor bottles lining the shelves.

you hear the door behind you click and you turn around, seeing thanos holding the doorknob. before you even get a chance to speak, namgyu’s hands are on your waist, spinning you around to face him as he presses you against the desk. his lips curl into a smirk. “you knew this was coming, didn’t you?” his voice is a lazy drawl, almost daring you to deny it.

the room feels like it’s closing in on you. the music from the club muffles in the distance, the sharp, neon lights outside barely cutting through the heavy shadows that fill the office. namgyu stands a few steps away, eyes scanning you with amusement, while thanos is right behind you, a solid presence at your back that you can’t ignore. the closeness between the three of you feels too much, too intense. your breath hitches in your chest, and your body trembles slightly.

“look at you,” namgyu’s voice is smooth, his eyes flickering over you. “you can’t control that fucking shaking.”

you try to steady yourself, but it’s no use. his gaze feels like a weight pressing down on you, and with thanos so close behind, you’re caught in between them.

thanos steps closer. “are you scared?” he asks, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place. “or are you just excited because we’ve got you all to ourselves now?”

“im not scared of you two,” you swallow hard, trying to control your racing pulse.

a throaty laugh erupts from the both of them, mocking you.

“do you like the attention we’re giving you sweetheart?” namgyu whispers, pushing his thigh between your legs.

you try to find your voice, but it comes out barely a whisper. “i— i don’t know.”

namgyu leans in just slightly, his voice soft but laden with an edge that sends a shiver down your spine. "you look a little trapped, sweetheart," he murmurs, the corner of his lips lifting in that teasing smirk. "is that how you like it?"

you swallow, trying to keep your composure, but your heart is racing, your body betraying you with every pulse of heat that floods your skin. you try to move, but namgyu’s leg between your thighs keeps you in place, his gaze never leaving yours.

you let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as his hands settle on your hips. he gives an experimental roll of his thigh, and the friction against your clothed core draws a sharp gasp from your lips. the sensation is maddening, just enough to start the fire that’s been smoldering inside you, but not nearly enough to satisfy.

you slowly move your hips, starting a delicious rhythm. the friction makes you moan, feels so good you don’t even realize you’re making a sound. you rock yourself back and forth, back and forth. the movement jostling your tits.

namgyu’s eyes flicker down, his eyebrows raising. a low groan emanates from his throat. the sound taking you to another level.

thanos reaches up, pulling the front of your dress down. his eyes flare in response, breaking his tense posture to reach up with both hands on your bra.

“holy fuck,” thanos whispers, feeling the lace of your bra make indents on his fingers with how hard he’s squeezing.

“stop teasing..” you mutter through a whine, hips jerking.

“me? teasing you?” thanos questions, quirking an eyebrow. “after you were in a room full of people grinding on me?

namgyu puts one hand behind your back and unclips your bra, other hand not leaving your hip as you look for the desperate release you crave.

your bra falls to the floor in front of you, and your eyes follow slowly.

namgyu’s smirk never wavers as his fingers move until they’re cradling your face. his palms are warm, his grip firm. with a slight tilt of his head, he tightens his hold, his fingertips digging in just enough to part your lips slightly. his thumbs press against your jawline, keeping you still, keeping you exactly where he wants you. his dark eyes flicker over your face, drinking in every reaction, your widened eyes, the way your breath catches, the way your body tenses under his touch.

both of their eyes look down at your chest, and you’re quick to cover yourself. thanos clips his tongue and grabs your hands, pushing them down quickly. “don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful.”

thanos pinches a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. the combined stimulation drives you to move your hips faster, gripping your fingers into the sturdy angles of his shoulders.

you crinkle your hands into namgyu’s shirt, and your hands on him has his cock aching, no doubt leaking precum all over the front of his underwear. he can’t believe what you’re able to do to him without even trying.

that’s it” he coos, leaning back just pinning you with a stare that has you melting already. “fuck, look at you, a goddamn slut. you look so dirty like this...”

you bite your lip, suppressing a moan as the pleasure builds, the fabric of your clothes rubbing deliciously against your throbbing core. the wetness between your legs is undeniable now, soaking through your panties, your racing suit and onto his thigh. you know he can feel it too, and the realization only makes you grind down harder, your desperation growing with every passing second.

“please, i need more,” you whimper, the words slipping out in a moment of vulnerability. your voice is heavy with desperation, your body trembling with the effort to find release.

“namgyu..” thanos whispers, toying with your tits. “i’m tired of fucking waiting.”

without a second beat, namgyu pulls his thigh away from in between your legs. your hips stutter and you feel yourself falling, but he’s quick to catch you. you whine loudly, feeling the warm feeling in your stomach slowly fade away.

“come on, sweetheart,” namgyu tuts, mocking you. “you can’t even fucking stand?”

before you can fully register it, hands settle on your shoulders, firm, steady, unmistakably thanos. his touch is hurried, an undeniable strength beneath it. without a word, he turns you around, guiding you with ease until your chest is pressed against the desk’s edge. the wood is cold against your fingertips as you brace yourself, heart pounding in your chest.

thanos stands close, his frame imposing as he looks down at you, his expression unreadable. his fingers trail down your arms before settling at your waist, the pressure light but commanding.

namgyu leans casually against the desk beside you, watching with an amused tilt of his head. his eyes flicker between you and thanos, a smirk playing at his lips. "gotta see this pretty pussy," he mumbles, tapping his fingers against the desk’s surface.

thanos hums in agreement, his fingers flexing slightly at your sides, “bet she’s fucking dripping.”

namgyu pushes your dress up past your ass, both men soaking in the view in front of them. you push your hips back involuntarily.

namgyu leans in just slightly, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “i can feel you shaking,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, a spark of something unreadable flickering in his gaze. “nervous?”

you don’t answer, and that only seems to amuse him more.

thanos clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “she’s quiet again.” his thumbs press just slightly into your waist, the warmth of his touch sending another shiver through you. “that’s cute.”

namgyu watches the way your breath hitches at that, and his smirk widens. “you like when he talks to you like that, don’t you?” his tone is teasing, knowing, like he already has the answer. he trails a finger lightly along your wrist before brushing it beneath your chin, tilting your face up just slightly. “come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, dark eyes glinting. “use your words.”

your lips part, but the only thing that escapes is a shaky moan.

thanos chuckles softly, his voice low, almost taunting. “looks like we’ll have to help her out.”

in a swift motion, thanos pulls your underwear down, leaving it at your ankles. you hear a dark chuckle behind you, undeniably namgyu.

your stomach flips, and you try to look away, only for namgyu’s grip on your chin to keep you in place. “oh no,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “you don’t get to look away now. you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“god, she’s fucking drenched.” thanos groans, and namgyu lets go of your chin. he goes back behind you, out of view.

you feel a long finger dance around your pussy, collecting the slick that threatens to drip to the floor.

“such a pretty pussy,” thanos whispers, more to himself than anyone else. "you hear that, namgyu? you hear how wet she is?"

"fuck, yeah," namgyu replies, a hand rubbing over the bulge of his pants. he had to admit, he was jealous of thanos, him being able to please you first.

"hurry up, thanos. i want to touch her next." thanos chuckles, turning his attention back to you. "doesn't that turn you on, hm? don't you like hearing how badly namgyu wants to touch you like this?" thanos says, pressing a thumb against your clit and creating sensual circles around the area that makes you more sensitive. you moan as a response, your body trembling from his actions. "yes.. shit,, i want namgyu- to touch me too.." you reply.

looking at namgyu who nearly came from the needy pitch of your voice.

"you heard her, ‘gyu," thanos says, glancing at namgyu with a grin and you found yourself in between the two men. while thanos slowly pushed a finger into your aching pussy and rubbing circles against your clit, namgyu had pushed you up with his hands to touch your breasts. thanos holds you, your back against his chest, letting namgyu pinch your nipples with his fingers, getting a little whine out of your mouth.

"you fucking disgust me," namgyu insults, leaving love marks on your neck and he kisses your shoulders. the beautiful sounds you’re making just leaves namgyu wanting to mark you all over with his mouth. he pinches your nipples again, “you’re so greedy, one person touching you isn’t enough?”

thanos smirks, slipping another finger into your pussy. your eyes widen in astonishment, feeling yourself stretch around his fingers. your moans become louder at that point, due to the combination of namgyu leaving marks all over you while fondling your nipples as thanos plays with your pussy.

"yeah, that's a good girl. moan just for me," thanos adds, smirking as his knuckles began smacking the entrance of your pussy.

namgyu glares at thanos, before slipping one hand away from your breast to grab your head. namgyu turns your face towards him and presses his lips against yours while maintaining eye contact with thanos. the purple haired man furrows his brows, watching as you and namgyu’s tongues swirled sloppily around each others. the two now seem to have an ongoing battle of who can please you the best.

“ 'm gonna c-cum," you utter through your moans, mouth parting slightly from namgyu’s, a strong of saliva connecting from your tongue to his. thanos smiles, curling his fingers to rub faster against your g-spot. "c'mon princess, cum for me," he says, lowering his face to your pussy and replaces his thumb with his tongue on your clit.

"oh f-fuck, thanos-" you mewl his name, eyes nearly rolling back as your legs tremble from the fast licks his tongue was giving against your clit. namgyu couldn't do much but continue to play with your breast and watch thanos fuck your pussy until you came. namgyu grunts as your hands push to free his cock out and wrap around his girth.

your mind is too overstimulated with the situation and you couldn't bother caring about anything else. "shitshitshit, i'm cumming-" you cry out, gushing over thanos’ mouth and fingers.

thanos licks and cleans all of your juices that squirted onto your thighs and by his mouth, savoring the taste. he stares deep into namgyu’s eyes when licking off your arousal on his fingers, smiling cockily since namgyu wasn't able to get a taste. "i might actually get addicted to this pussy," he comments before he unzips his pants to releases his hard throbbing cock.

your eyes widen at the sight of both of their dicks as you come down from your high. "oh, you scared, princess?" namgyu chuckles, but you instantly shake your head.

namgyu pushes you back to your original position against the desk, admiring how your pussy clenches around nothing. “please fuck me, namgyu..”

"you hear that, thanos? hear and see how she's begging for my cock?" namgyu asks, glancing at thanos to see his reaction. he just needed to rub it in the others face.

thanos steps in front of the desk you lay face down on, pulling you up slightly by your hair. a pained whine falls from your lips and you reach up to grab thanos’ hand, but he’s quick to put his cock in your grasp.

thanos glares at namgyu, not replying as his attention was mostly on the way your hand gripped around his cock. "you’re clenching around nothing, angel. that desperate?" namgyu adds, teasing your wet entrance with the tip of his cock before pushing his tip past your folds.

"o-oh my god-" you moan, eyes widening from the feeling of namgyu’s cock rubbing against your walls, nearly making you cum again. namgyu grunts when your tight pussy instantly clenches around him, and he quietly chuckles.

"fuck..," he moans, letting you adjust to the tip before pushing inside another inch.

"touch me too, angel. don't forget about me," thanos whimpers, his words purring into the air as he bucks his hips up to feel your soft hand rub against his desperate cock. you began to pump your hand along thanos’ cock just like he wanted, causing him to moan above you. you look up at him in front of the desk with pleading eyes, seeing his hooded ones catch yours. “s-shit.. i might cum just because of your hands," he chuckles.

namgyu’s hands grip tightly on your hips as he completely bottoms out inside of you, his cock was already fucked deep into you, spreading and pleasuring your walls towards your next orgasm. "n-ngh.. squeezing me so damn hard. you want my cum that badly, baby?" namgyu groans, faintly throwing his head back.

"y-yes, pleaseee," you whine, your cunt sucking in namgyu’s cock at his words. the man groans, starting a rough pace and drilling deeper into your pussy.

thanos intently watches namgyu pounds into your needy hole relentlessly, turning you into a crying and moaning mess. his dick twitches at the sight of you two connecting, making him wonder what it'd be like to be in namgyu’s position.

"fuckkk, holy fuck-" thanos chants, his eyes nearly rolling back because of how satisfied his dick was feeling. "we should make her ours, thanos. make her our whore, yeah?" namgyu glances at thanos, who only moans as a response when you swirl your thumb around his swollen tip. "seems like she wants to, thanos. the way she's clenching her dirty little cunt tightly around me tells me she wants to be ours. that right, slut?" namgyu utters, now staring into your tear filled eyes as he continues thrusting into you.

you nod your head several times, unable to even speak.

“come on, sweetheart. put it in your mouth, okay?” thanos groans, rubbing his precum on your cheek.

you slowly take thanos in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his swollen tip. you bob your head slowly back and forth, sucking and slurping thanos’ cock while using another hand to pump the rest of his length that was unable to fit into your mouth.

even with something inside your mouth, you couldn’t control the loud moans that you breathe out through your nose.

"hear her, thanos? she's moaning like a damn slut," namgyu grins, slapping your ass.

"yeah, i like it," thanos replies, pushing his length into your mouth again, feeling your moans vibrate against his dick. "g-gonna fill her mouth with my cum..”

as namgyu was reaching his climax, he penetrates his cock deeper into your cunt, making sure all of his cum would reach into your womb. you cry out, rushes of ecstasy flowing through your veins before namgyu shoots his warm seed into you. at the same moment, thanos prods his entire length into your mouth, whether it fit or not, and releases his load into the back of your throat. your mind is completely scrambled, cramped with lust struck thoughts of the two men.

“holy shit,” thanos groans, holding your head in place on his dick while namgyu keeps fucking into you, allowing you to find your own orgasm.

you cum with a loud whine, hips shaking uncontrollably as namgyu roughly pushes all of his cum into your tight hole. the office around you was going black, your nose being pushed into thanos’ pubic bone as you try to find the air to breathe.

thanos pulls out of your mouth with a *pop* and smiles down at you widely. “you’re amazing.”

“she’s a fucking whore is what she is.” namgyu hisses, slapping your ass one more time before pulling out completely.

you keep your filled cunt exposed to him, moaning softly when namgyu’s cum begins to spill out.

- - - - ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

uhhh taglist: @kouzih @cybrasigilism

#squid game #squid game smut #squid game imagine #fanfic #thanos x reader #namgyu x reader #ao3 #fanfiction #choi su bong #running laps rn #i’m creaming

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loganlermanstanaccount · 2 years ago

Note

YOU SEE THE VISION!!!

Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

wc: 6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice.

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window.

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman.

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment.

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara?

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning.

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach.

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was…

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying .

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist.

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!"

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring.

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask.

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep.

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him.

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class. She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely.

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day.

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it.

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo.

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it.

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course.

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself.

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall.

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure.

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself.

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here.

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video.

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen.

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all.

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners.

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you.

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs.

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-"

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please."

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers.

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall.

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home.

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions.

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night.

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy??

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water.

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there.

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway.

You wince."...F-Fine?"

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?"

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice.

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further.

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together.

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand.

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee.

"You look… wet."

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze.

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed.

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression. His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds.

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?"

He's got a hand on your arm now, The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details.

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy.

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside.

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word.

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?"

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too."

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same.

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way.

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost.

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand.

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza?

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal.

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy.

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats.

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought.

"Yeah?"

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-"

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!"

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway.

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-"

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips.

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you.

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand.

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close.

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile.

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side.

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular.

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?"

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it.

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty.

"Huh. I guess they do."

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums.

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name.

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch.

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ."

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest.

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-"

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own.

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name."

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing.

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-"

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together.

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest.

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts.

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck.

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum.

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth.

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin.

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt..

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara.

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?"

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?"

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction.

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach.

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel."

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth.

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue.

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole.

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue.

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off.

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily.

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him.

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him.

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs.

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck.

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should.

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head.

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily.

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

#like fucking around w him to SLOW JAMS #to mary J???#boyz II men???#USHER????#running laps rn #I need him #this is probably ooc as fuck 😭😭

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