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screampied · 3 months ago

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#TRYNA FUCK ME I'M LIKE OKAY! g. suguru

☆ sum. suguru geto wasn’t used to losing a race, especially to a fucking rookie—but you’ve got him confused, intrigued, and… hard? long story short, ever since he hit it he’s never been the same.

wc. 6.8k

warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, 2 fast 2 furious references, bratty reader, rivals to lovers ( ? ), geto has a dīck piercing, big size kink, riding, he fucks you on the hood of your car, cunnīlingus, sore loser geto gets humbled lel, overstim, squīrting, dirty talk, praise, petnames.

an. chase atlantic inspired me again </3 same au as this one.

second fucking place. he got second place and he lost to you, a newbie—the newest racer with the prettiest trendy wheels, flashy rims, and a hot pink 2001 honda s2000. stupid, stupid, the reality of losing left a sour taste in geto’s mouth. he can’t remember the last time he’s lost, ever. .

the moment he saw your car bolt in front of him at those last few milliseconds of the race with fiery pink smoke coughing from your steel pipes dusting near his front window, he just knew he lost to you. geto scoffs. “tch,” he’d mumble, slamming his car door shut, and releasing the straps of his custom-made helmet. you leaned against your slick hood, innocently fanning yourself with a pamphlet of the track’s course layout that was given to every racer before glancing at geto. he was quite tall and he looked down at you with a look of intrigue and bitter annoyance. “cheater.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow. you knew damn well who he was, suguru geto—one of the if not the best street racer in tokyo. notorious for his wins and extremly cocky ego - except this time, your win against him bruised that little detail a bit. a small grin spreads across your glossed lips before your eyes rove up and down his dark leather ripped clothes. “you said somethin’?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” he utters, bringing a gloved hand up to his face. doing so, geto tucks his sticky black tresses back inside his helmet. he’s so close, that he practically has you cornered against the hot hood of your car and his eyes stare at the medal that’s pinned near the left side of your chest. that gold medal that was supposed to be his. “besides,” and you nearly gasped once you felt your rear tap against the front of your vehicle. “your ‘riding’ could use a ‘lil work, rookie.”

you saw the look in his eyes. he’s challenging you, geto sees you as a potential threat and he wasn’t fond of losing.. ever.

it just wasn’t in his vocabulary.

you don’t know why but beating one of tokyo’s top street racers made cocky pride swell right up in your chest. the same kind of cocky pride that he was used to, and damn were you a force to be reckoned with. he just had to learn that the hard way.

“do i?” you reply, reaching an arm inside of your car to twist the keys out of the ignition. with a roaring sputtering growl, your engine gradually turns off and the sounds of whirring wind fill the air.

geto’s got his hands buried in his pockets as his tall lean body stands still. he’s checking you out.

his head slightly tilts to the side with his helmet cracked open and you can feel his eyes trailing up your entire physique.

he’s studying you - trying to figure out just who this pretty girl that just dusted him in a race.

you’d be lying through your teeth if you didn’t idolize him just a little bit. he was well known not just in tokyo but worldwide. the fangirls loved him, and the racers despised him with envy.

beating the suguru geto was a rare fever dream of itself.

“or are you just upset you’re not in the spotlight for once?” brat.. though your comment made him scoff with a sly smile curling against his thin lips.

“mm. for a new racer you sure have a smart mouth,” and his eyes quickly dash toward your car.

hot pink, it even looked freshly new and painted. and just to put the icing on the cake, it also has a pretty character design painted near the sides with the addition of a cheetah print wheel.

he lost to . . that?

geto’s quietly admiring your ride though—it looked like it was straight out of a movie. once he looks down at you again, he speaks in a gruff intimidated tone, finishing his sentence. “it’s only your first win, don’t be cocky.”

“i’ll be cocky if i want,” you murmur, and there’s a loud competitive tension between you both.

people started to leave the car meeting spot until it was just the two of you. your car’s parked near one of the garages where geto’s car was coincidentally parked also. you’re still leaning against the pink hood of your car before walking up to him. you close the awkward distance between you both, being just a few inches apart.

you’re bold, and he liked your spunk although he’d never flat-out admit it.

just . . . who were you?

geto didn’t like losing—that’s already been established. but now, he’s starting to realize he probably has to deal with you in future races, and oh- he knew you were gonna be a problem.

and he was right, because perhaps he’d finally met his match.

“besides, even if i did cheat,” you retaliate, your tone sounding more and more coy and foxy. playfully, your arms wrap around his shoulders and you tap against his sheer black helmet that had ‘s. geto’ autographed in bold purple near the other shell. vexed, mousy eyes glare at you through the protective gear and you lean up all the way close. “what are you gonna do about it, suguru?”

famous last words,

because one moment you’re being nothing but a mere brat and the next, you found yourself bent over the hood of your pretty blush-colored honda.

well, fuck.

suguru geto didn’t take disrespect lightly . . although, he liked the brat in you. a nice change of pace, even though it pissed him off a bit - a lot.

“s- shit,” you gasp, feeling your thighs squeeze together. geto’s domineering aura sends you chills, the kind of chills where it runs through your entire soul.

he’s so close that you could almost taste his loud cologne on your tongue. it’s a manly scent, you’d probably guess one of the main ingredients was oak moss. as you’re pondering deep in thought, still trying to get over his loud smell—a hand gingerly starts to brush down your skimpy lace-up chaps.

his touch felt good. . and sure, maybe you’ve fantasized about this exact moment once or twice while watching his races broadcasted on live television. geto’s pressed up against you as you’re idly hunched over, biting your lip. with a huff, you’re so close to your tinted window that you were practically having a staring contest with your rosy windshield wipers. “aw. you planned to spank me over my car?”

“not exactly, pretty girl,” he tsks with a clicked tongue, and that’s when you feel it. something poking against your rear — oh, he was hard.

it was something hard and you don’t quite think it was his helmet..

that couldn’t have been anything else other than a raging boner, and it makes you smugly hum. geto groans once he feels your ass wriggling against his skin-tight leather jeans. “think you’re funny, yeah girl?”

“a bit,” you utter in a breathy tone, feeling his fingers zig-zag down the exposed straps of clothing that reveal a bit of skin. you didn’t mind his touch - in fact, you only wanted more.

the inside of the garage was widely spacious—big enough to fit your car and geto’s iconic skyline gtr. it’s a gorgeous midnight dark purple that glimmers in the dead of night, akin to a raven’s wings.

with the garage lot being empty, it was just the two of you, the witching hour steadily approaching. all that could be heard was the occasional squawks and chirps of squaking birds and loud cars honking near the far distance by the freeway. as he’s still got you pinned over, you bite your pointer finger with a cheeky hum. “hilarious even.”

but, you don’t find anything funny moments later when the street racer’s tongue is shoved right between your splayed, plush thighs.

not at all, in fact- the only ‘words’ that came from your mouth were babbling inaudible whimpers, and he made sure you’d eat your sentences… just like he’s eating out your first place cunt like the starved man he was.

with widened eyes and a stretched jaw hanging open, you stare back with a hand on your ass, giving your skin a soft squeeze. geto grunts, on his knees as you’re hauled right over your pretty decorated hood.

hell! you figured he’d ask to rematch but this..

it seemed like all he wanted to do was take out his loss on your pussy… with his second-place tongue.

and that’s just what he does too.

not that you were even complaining—suguru geto was a nasty man to no one’s surprise. he’s nasty on the road and he’s even nastier with his tongue recklessly driving up and down your slobbering twitching cunt.

you feel a crooked nose sloooowly drag its way like a trail against your entrance. geto starts near the bottom and then makes his way up, making sure to have his button nose dripping with your mess. letting off a sweet whimper, it doesn’t take long before he’s starting sucking against your swollen clit.

“hng,” a needy whine dashes from your throat, and you can already feel a shaking judder spasm between your legs. geto’s unapologetically sloppy with his mouth too. as he’s repeatedly flicking the pointed pink tip of his tongue in crazed different directions, a throaty hiccup leaves from your glued lips. “fuuck, do you usually mhm--do this to your opponents who hah, beat you?”

“only the ones with the smart fuckin’ mouths,” he replies with a quickness, taking a moment to spit right on your sticky cunt. it’s a loud ‘ptui’ and it’s a filthy slimy trail that dribbles past his lips, polishing near the creasing crevices of his mouth.

a rubber-gloved hand snakes toward the crack of your pried open thighs and he spanks your pussy, causing a cute shrieking squeal to leave out your strained cords. “also, a reminder again. you didn’t beat me. i let you win. big difference.”

“s- sure,” you sheepishly moan, feeling vapid air circle around you both.

the night was eerily and silently dead—you swallowed thickly, praying no one would see you bent over your flashy pink hood getting eaten out by one of the most famous street racers in the world. although, the thought of getting caught made you throb in a way you didn’t think it would.

he’s mean with his tongue.

geto was competitive in everything he did, including with how he ate it.

your strapped pants were pulled down along with your panties lazily sticking toward the side of your feeble quaking thighs.

within minutes his jaw would angrily ache, growing slack and locking from how it was reaching soreness - but he didn’t care.

if he didn’t win his race, the least he could do was win by eating you out…right?

geto’s designer mauve-colored helmet probably costed thousands and rests near the side of him. he took it off before he started to feast himself between your sprawled legs.

through hazed doe-like peripherals, you stare at it and admire the designs that paint across his visor.

everywhere, there’s writing and designs—and again, you spot his famous autograph that’s nearly written near the side. typical, of course, he’d autograph his helmet.

he’s suguru fuckin’ geto.

regardless though, you’re still nothin’ but a whining mess though, and as he continues to eat you out, you let off a sweet ‘ooh!’ as soon as he bites near your pearly clit.

it’s soft and tender, but it still makes you babble out a sobbing moan. his teeth gently nibbled against your pussy . . . leisurely slithering his tongue between your flooding flaps.

so good, each time you hear the wet smacks from his lips, you can hear geto huskily groaning out satisfying ‘mmmh’ ‘s.

it’s a feeling that makes your legs stagger within the firm hold of his hands. geto’s still wearing his gloves and each time the stretchy rubber rubs onto your skin, you moan. “fuck, fuckk,” you whine, and he’s groaning right against your sobbing cunt. his hair’s pinned back into a high messy ponytail - a few ravened strands running down the sides of his face. pretty long lashes of his were closed as he was slurping you clean.

so damn sweet . . . he wonders why he’s never seen you on the track until now. well- you were new. maybe he has seen you, but geto’s never been one to pay attention.

either way, you were a meal he didn’t wanna stop tasting, ever.

and despite the bitter taste of defeat continuously lingering on his flat tongue even still . . your cunt sprinkled a bit of flavor to it, an aftertaste of vying rivalry . .

“mmph,” he grunts, feeling you push him further into your cunt with one hand. with a twist, you turn your torso just a bit to look down at him, bringing his face further. geto’s slick wet tongue slides across your nub before he’s sloppily thrusting it in and out of your weeping flowery entrance.

you whimper once he reaches that spot, feeling a sudden heave of a breath snatch its way out from your puffed lungs. geto’s dark brows amusingly knit together and he’s already nose deep—the hooking bridge that smears against your pussy makes you nearly wail out a needy weep.

he’s smearing his face everywhere, and wet splotches of your juices started to coat his clear face.

but he doesn’t mind - geto’s always been one to get a ‘lil dirty during a match.

two slack lips munch against your clit wholly before his lengthy tongue reaches toward your winking hole. “pff,” he clicks his tongue, letting off another husky groan once he feels the tint in his pants arises.

fuck, you made him hard—even more, now that he was eating you out.

the louder you were, the more his dick twitched underneath the rough fabric of his jeans. it’s almost painful- the way his hardened bulge prods its way against the leathery fabric makes him suck his teeth. he needs you.

geto’s lips remain glued against your cunt before he uses a gloved thumb to peel your pudgy sweltering folds apart just a biiiit more.

his tongue creates a downward slope that trickles its way below your clitoral hood that’s frantically throbbing right in his mouth.

ba dum, ba dum, ba dum. . .

pulse pulse pulse after fucking pulse,

a smoky chuckle echoed from his lips as his shoulders slightly shake and fuck- it vibrates against your pussy. “god, she’s a ‘lil crybaby isn’t she,” he breathlessly mumbles as his thumb peels your soaked flaps all the way down. he’s intently staring inside, studying all the pretty nerves and your twitching nub before spitting right inside yet again.

airy cold breath fans over your nude slit and you whimper, feeling his tongue douse itself back inside. “were you drivin’ around this wet the entire time, princess?” and you moan, feeling the rubber of his palm smear a few circles around your clit. “drivin’ around, tryin’ to beat me with a pretty pussy this fuckin’ soaked?”

with a shivering whimper ghosting past your splintered lips, you snivel out a soft mewl.

“sugu—fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” and as your breath gets caught in your throat, you feel him grab a nice chunk of your ass.

at his very grip, he gives your rear a rude spank and the recoil makes him hum in amusement. so soft, the way it bounced just from his palm alone.

oh, and spanking you became his favorite thing to do, especially since you were so fucking noisy.

as a shrilling whine prepares to race out your strained esophagus, you nearly yank his head forward again, hearing him groan against your clit. “d- did you hear me? ‘m close, gonna cu—”

“yeah yeah girl, i heard you,” he swats your hand away, and the low grit that rumbles from underneath his tone makes you throb for the nth time.

geto brings a few digits up toward your cunt to rub against your runny folds, and he starts making out with your pussy - with tongue.

sloppy smacks slosh out from your crying folds and you gasp, feeling him impishly nip your clit with his teeth once more. “mmf,” and his eyes start to become low and hooded.

he’s pussy drunk, very much so.

geto eats you out until you’re abruptly coming undone on his tongue, letting off a sweet euphoric battle cry with your toes curling in your knee-high boots. fuck, and even as he’s savoring the syrupy taste that pours on his flat flushed tongue, he’s still eating you out.

with brief circular maneuvers of his tongue, he’s got you whimpering from the sensitivity. as a staticky twinge pulses through your pussy, your hand grabs at his hair hard, tugging near his roots, having to literally pry him apart.

your cunt was so sensitive, throbbing a plethora of pulses as your mouth fatally goes dry. “f- fuck,” you moan, and you can feel your legs stick together once they instinctively close shut.

“tsk. drama queen,” he soils his lips together that were now perfectly glossed from top to bottom with your juices.

oh, his chiseled chin was just shimmering with such sparkling sap that it even poured a stream down the lower part of his face. his tongue slides near the cracked corner of his right lip, and he’s just luxuriating at the treacly taste of you. if you tasted this good, maybe the second place wasn’t so bad after all. .

as he’s still lapping up his lips with a wolffish grin, geto notices you openly gawking at his bulge and he snickers, patting his fly with a gloved hand. “it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

“it’s rude to walk around with a bulge that big.”

“oh yeah? how ‘bout you fix that problem for me then, rookie?”

a brat, almost as much of a brat as you.

geto gets silenced once you slam your lips onto his, not even batting an eyelash that you’re tasting yourself on his tongue that’s swirling around yours.

it’s intense, you could feel your heartbeat start to match the exact pulsing pace from between your legs. his lips were icy, and you moaned—tasting a bit of mint that resides on his tongue.

his breath is freezing cold, it’s an almost sweet candied taste and you whine in his mouth once his hands start to roam up and down your body.

geto’s feeling you up- feeling up the pretty girl who just beat him in a race.

rough protected hands drag down your frame, taking in your curves before toying with the leather straps that droop against your pink lace-up chaps.

it’s as if even the kiss was far more competitive than the actual street race.

both desperately fought to win, swerving through each tongue like swerving lanes.

geto grunts, lightly pushing your ass back against the hood of your car. as tongues twist and tango in lewd unison, he seductively sucks on your pointed tip.

as geto’s eyes open halfway, you open yours, and he’s just staring at you with a look of feral - a carnal smug grin tweaking on each side of his lips.

“turn around again, pretty. hands on y’r hood like…this,” and once he spreads you apart, you moan once he rubs his bulge against the middle fabric of your pants. “good hah- messy girl.” his bulge was so damn hard, it felt like a brick.

the more he rubbed himself against you, the more your body ached and yearned for more.

oh..

his hands, geto kept his racing gloves on the entire time. as the stretchy rubber sensually crawls down your waist, you hear the jangling of his studded skull belt. with a few shuffles, he leans up close, pinning your hands behind your back like you were under arrest.

“just for the record again, you didn’t ‘beat’ me, you cheated,” and you scoff, feeling frigid air waft between your inner thighs. oh- here he goes again. talk about a sore fuckin’ loser.

“sur— mmph,” and he cuts you off, placing a gloved palm over your mouth.

“quiiiiet, you’ll get your turn to talk,” he cuts you off, and you let off a moan once you feel his bulbous tip smack against your sopping cunt.

it’s loud..

dozens of paps and squelches leave it right away and he plants a wet kiss near your exposed neck.

the rubs from his blushing reddened cockhead make loud noises that constantly replay through your empty mind.

“see? let her talk,” and you swallow thickly, feeling him use an extra hand to pry your legs apart further. clammy, big hands glue against the pink hood of your car before your tongue tastes the metallic fibers of his glove. “so eager. poor baby,” he coos against your ear, feeling you trying to swallow and gulp him down right away. your twitching pussy’s aching, and you can’t help the pathetic whimpers that hiccup from your lips. you even try to wriggle your ass but he rubs a hand underneath your clit. “aw, impatient are we? what’s the sayin’, princess? slow ‘n steady wins the race?”

‘okay…but i beat you,’ was what you were saying in your head… but you sort of forgot his hand was covering your mouth. duh girl.

“mmph—” you let off a muffled moan against the palm of his hand, trying to wriggle your ass against him harder.

geto lowly groans and then you groan, feeling what was a piercing that attaches toward his pre-creamed dewy frenulum. geto strokes himself a bit, fisting his cock. with hooded, jaded eyes, he watches his loose skin peel back before arising up again and he hisses. the frenulum perfectly hooks itself over his tip, and oh- how you wished you could have seen it.

you couldn’t see but, fuck did you feel it.

you’re so wet, your swollen pussy lips resemble a blossoming flower as he spreads you apart with two scissoring rubber fingers.

his dick piercing almost tickles once it starts to rub against you some more. he swipes it all against your clit, teasing it near your opening before pulling it right back out. “fuck,” you whine once he finally removes his palm from your mouth, glossy strands of your saliva coating the entirety of your hand. “h.. hurry up, suguru. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”

geto rolls his eyes, and that’s when with a semi-loud thud, your chest lands against your hood.

“oh please..” he murmurs, a brow twisting upward in annoyance. one of his hands still has its grip on your wrists and you bite your lip in anticipation.

geto’s tip leaked with creamy coating pre, and you felt remnants of it sprinkle against your entrance. with a raspy grunt, he drags his angered pierced crownhead down your drooling folds before roughly smacking it against your cunt.

more sloppy wet splats! of squelches spurt out from your folds as if it’s saying its own kind of lewd language and he grunts.

geto makes sure you’re arched over the hood of your car before whistling at your presented frame. “so damn…pretty,” and within seconds, he’s easing his way inside.

immediately, your eyes widen with your jaw collapsing down like earlier—fuck, he’s big.

from the countless times, you stared at his bulge, you figured as much. geto’s vast head had a rosy-pink tint of vermillion with how close it mirrored to being a pinkish red.

sucking in a greedy breath, he watches as he’s gradually disappearing inside of your cunt. his pierced dick made things even more sensitive, and you moan once you feel the piercing softly graze its way inside of your fluttering orifice.

pasty gummy walls welcome him, and now it’s his turn to bite his lip.

“hng, f- fuckin’ big,” you try to inhale a single breath, and he raises your leg just a bit. it now sits over your hood- and damn it, the angle he has was just brutal.

you just knew you were gonna feel him everywhere.

geto’s obelisk-like girth was wide ‘n fuckin’ tall, you felt him fully and the shaft ring that’s on top of his top continues to kiss against your sensitive throbbing nub.

prince albert to be specific!

it decorates his tip perfectly, making sure to tickle inside of you as he’s feeling you clamp down. “shiiiit,” you slur out your words in a mere whiny syllable, gasping at the curved column of his fat dick search through your walls like a maze. he’s expanding through you and you can’t help but part your lips, squealing before letting off a cute, ‘ooohh!’

your hand prints stick against the pink-stained hood of your car due to the insane amounts of perspiration and you whine once he gives you one biiiig thrust.

just one- and ah!

it rocks your world - literally.

you let off a cute squealing shriek, your legs shimmying a bit from his pressed-up weight.

“atta girl, bare ‘round me, good girl—fuck,” and the warmth you envelop his dick with makes him groan. your pussy was clingy, already so eager to devour him whole.

within a few punctuated thrusts to start, geto’s finally fucking you and each vigorous piston of his honed snatched hips makes your crossed eyes roll back in needy rapture.

his hands now stick toward your sides and you’re just whimpering from his size over and over again.

weighty inches pound into you at full speed, giving you whiplash every time as he impales your sweet greedy cunt. “fuck, mhm,” you bawl a fist against your car, gritting your teeth. riiiight there, the moment his tip smooches its way against that pretty bullseye spot, it’s over. there, he locates a spongy texture with the mushroomy pierced crown of his cock and it earns out a sobbing whimper from you. “ahng! right there, fuck. faster, there sugu.”

“right there, fuuuuck. faster there, sugu,” he mocks your whiny babbles, fully exaggerating.

to hell with him, you didn’t even sound like that but oh, did he enjoy getting on your nerves. just like you did- cute.

geto’s hefty sack smacks back against you from each nudging thrust he creates with his hips. every time, it makes him groan at how your body cutely slams back against him. with how sharp your ass pounds on his dick, those pretty wet sounds singing straight from your cunt- a sound way better than screeching tire wheels. “god, so fuckin’ warm. hah, squeezin’ all around me,” and as his irregular breathing patterns pick up, he leans in to kiss a slope down your neck. “bend over just a bit more- hah. there we go, m- my good girl.”

as your chest continued to lie flat down against your car’s hood now—he’s got you at such an angle to where you feel his cock expand everywhere.

it reaches every depth and rummages through every open orifice or just about near it. “oh my god!” you whimper out, hearing the sloppy sounds of your cunt whistle through the silent night. geto’s hitting you deep, slamming his keen hips into you with such rhythm, and each time he does, your brain short circuits.

tiny invisible stars circle and float over your head as you’re completely dumbfounded, thinking about nothing but how big his cock is and the way his pierced tip just plummets its way in and out of your drooling cunt.

speaking of drooling—you were starting to drool from the slit cracks of your mouth. you couldn’t help it- his dick was out of this world, and maybe you were exaggerating but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. ever.

geto’s hastily rearranging your insides with just a few inches and it felt oh so good.

it was so good that you forgot the two of you raced together. you forgot about street racing as a whole, and instead, he had you dumb from his dick. “biiiiig fuckin’ stretch baby,” he’d grunt, starting to witness viscid stringy strands glue against each slapping thighs. geto’s dick slips out for a minute and he groans, gradually sliding himself back in.

it’s a sloppy ‘pop’ that rings between your cunt and it’s cute. you were wringing him dry, and with how wet you were, it wasn’t exactly helping things.

geto’s hot breath brushes against the open part of your neck before he gives your ass another playful swat. “fuck, that’s it. fuck back against me, don’t get lazy, uh huh. work those hips baby, f- fuck.”

as you weakly try to sway your ass into him to coordinate in sync with his crazed hips, he holds you in place—pumping inch after inch into you.

his cock sheaths inside between your syrupy-coated pussy almost effortlessly, and you let off a melodic moan the second his tip starts making out with your g-spot.

the pierced bulbous head dared to french kiss against there—making you writhe around him, on the verge of losing composure. you don’t think you’ve felt more sensitive than ever.

geto’s silvery dick piercing probes up and down your pearly clit every few seconds and he grunts at the gripping friction. “suguru…..fuuuck!” and as your words start to get bouncy, more sweet whimpers rose out of your sore throat. “more, more.”

“ungh,” he purses his lips together as he feels your cunt hungrily swallow his cock from top to bottom. with a rough pound, your ass smacks against his base—right near his tender plump testes and he groans.

such power-

even geto’s stunned for a moment, and his head throws itself back. the air surrounding you both starts to feel thick as smoke, and his eyes glance at your exposed backside that’s oh-so-pretty while arched.

all for him, and him only.

geto’s hips were simply maddened, and even he didn’t care about the race anymore.

well actually, maybe he did a little..

your pussy was brimmed with cock — sooo full, and you felt yourself starting to pant quicker and quicker. it’s as if you were having a literal street race with your breathing. geto’s getting lost inside of you, and it’s only a matter of time before his hips turn wildly sloppy.

gloved hands still reel you back into him as he’s breaking sweats within each long millisecond that passes. “pheww,” he’d wipe a sheet of sweat off his forehead, veins bulging in his beefy tatted arms. the drenching grip you had on his dick had him craving more…more of you.

the stoutness of his shaft jackhammers inside of your walls repeatedly until you’re on the verge of breaking yet again. geto grunts, the loud quick snap of his hips bringing him back to reality every time he’s about to go into another fantasm.

“fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” his words come out in a quiet rasp, and he claws a hand near the back crown of your head. “god,” his jaw tightens, and geto leans right up close to your neck, panting heavily against the outer shell of your ear. as long tangled tresses of hair freely cascade past his shoulders - all ruffled and messy from his helmet, he groans. “where do ya want it, sweetheart. tell m—”

“insideee,” you whine, barely giving him time to finish his husky words. your legs slightly raise against your headlight as it’s still stretched up and over.

geto’s still hitting you deep - so deeply good, swollen tip massaging every part of your clit and all. dozens of your toes curl up in erotic excitement as your tongue lolls out. you probably looked a sight. “inside, sugu, in- fuckin’- side.”

sassily smacking his lips together, he spanks you. “tch, dumb girl,” and the racer brings a hand to wrap around your neck. with a firm safe grip, his gloved thumb caresses a trail up your neck before he drills into you much quicker.

each snap of his hips draws out harmonic whines from you, gargled moans following out of your throat shortly afterward. the burn that’s twinging near the undersides of his thighs grows more and more intense before he geto lets out a guttural growl.

so……damn….. wet..

your flooding cunt’s slathering all over him, dripping near his base and he can’t help but snicker. “hah, fine. better hold still though.”

“fuck,” you whimper in response, feeling his sharp hips pound into you at such a pace. his rhythm was insane and there was no way in hell you could match his pace.

when it came to geto’s speed- yeah, you’d always lose. sure, you may have won today but when it came to his cock- you were losing with the hasty speed of his hips drilling into you at such miles per fuckin’ hour. .

as his turgid fat tip gives its final thrusting pumps inside of your cunt, geto’s body starts to violently shudder.

oh.. you were about to wring him dry. with a mewling slosh sound leaving the front your folds, you gush out yet again.

but at the same time…. so does he.

geto’s head remained tossed back with his round adam’s apple bobbing out of his throat. gnawing in the inside of his squishy cheek, he lets off a low grunt. his abs cockily flex through the white tee that tucks underneath his half-on leather jacket.

geto pulls out though, and it’s quick like the flash. he doesn’t finish inside to your devastated surprise, and a downturned pout forms on your lips. he huffs, watching such creamy-white amounts gush ‘n goo out in ropes and he sprays it on the outside of your pussy.

“damn,” he murmurs, feeling the awkward needy fidget of your hips. cute. darkened eyes remain on you the entire time and he grabs ahold of his veiny cock, aligning hit pierced tip against your pearled throbbing clit. “heh.. ain’t that a pretty sight,” and he smears it all against your pasty-creamed entrance.

now . . it’s painted with his color, white.

and geto came a lot because it’s still trickling out in ribbony globs, filthily oozing from the thick girthy sides and all like an erupted volcano. his teeth get caught by his quivering bottom lip as he watches such immoderate ropes of cum leave out of him. “such a- hah, messy girl,” and as he’s still lathering his sloppy seed that’s pouring out, sticking wads of splotches between the heat of your thighs, geto squeezes your ass. “awww,” he huffs breathily, noticing a few ivory stains splattered near the pink bumper of your car. “oops. might wanna clean that, sweetheart.”

hours passed . . many hours, and to say that you got fucked stupid was merely an understatement.

suguru geto had the stamina equivalent to a toyota supra MK4. his horsepower was his hips- with the added addition of his cock driving in and out of you.

but oh- you knew he wouldn’t be running out of gas soon.

or would he?

so. . many rounds, geto had you questioning your insanity the entire time, all because of his dick. if it was one thing he knew how to do, it was to fuck.

whether it involved his tongue or not, he knew how to make you feel good. it was one of the many things he excelled at, truly.

the only thing that got in the way was his cocky smug ego. every few seconds, he’d boast and remind you for the umpteenth time that your win was an unruly cheat, a hoax, or that he just couldn’t see the finish line because of your pink fucking smoke.

of course, geto didn’t say that part, that would have been him admitting that he lost the race and his pride couldn’t let him admit that he lost fair in square—

but your pussy could.

“hngh,” he falls back against your front cottony plus seat. geto grunts with a scowl entrapped in his thoughts. you pushed him - the audacity.

both of you were still sensitive but you had a tiny trick up your sleeve. “got some.. nerve,” and with low-dropped eyes, he watches you align yourself on his swollen pierced tip yet again.

he’s soft-flaccid, and he was pretty ran down. maybe now, geto was finally starting to run out of gas. with sweltering reddened lips smearing together, he watches you pick back up his expensive helmet, putting it over your head. “oh, gonna ride me while wearing my helmet, yeah? do your wors— oh.. fuck.”

his priggish words come to a not-so comedic halt the moment your cunt slams down on his cock. geto was still sensitive and he slouches back against your programming warming seat, dark eyes rolling back.

“goddamnnn,” and as your hips swerve around in circles identical to 360 car donuts, he sees you touching yourself while wearing his helmet. “fuckin’ brat—god.”

“aw,” you mock the exact faux caring tone he did to you earlier, making him touch you by bringing his shaky rubber hands toward your chest. geto’s fingers feel against the cropped top you wore, squeezing at your jiggling neglected breasts. “c’mon, sugu. i gotta guide your hands now too?”

“tch, shut up,” he groans, his heavy-sunken base sticking near your skin. dried splotches of cum glue against your sheeny ass as your hips continue to whirl ‘n rotate. you were unpredictable—you moved and jerked while he sat there with the most pussy drunken expression. geto lowly grunts, already feeling his balls starting to tighten up. he was trying to stop a sleazy grin from forming and oh.. was your cunt just making it impossible. “shit, ‘m not gonna last. s- still fuckin’ sensitive…. fuuuckk.”

the pink honda’s loud grumbling engine resounds through the echoey walls of the isolated garage with only the sounds of sheer skin slapping and a mixture of grunts following afterward. without thinking, you lift his helmet off of you, leaning in to kiss him and he returns the gesture almost right away.

geto’s lips were a tad bit delayed once they pressed onto yours. its a small yet cute detail- how he’s so pussy drink that he could barely crash his lips onto yours. as he’s moaning from your hands feeling on his burly tatted arms, his tongue sloppily delves into your mouth with no rhythm whatsoever.

maybe you were crazy, but you think you heard a whimper leave from his lips as he tried to nibble on your tongue. geto grunts, feeling that same pressure from earlier build up and fuck.. you were about to make a mess out of him . . . again!

his dick stills itself inside of you and his hands continue to roam down your body, further and further away from your jostling bouncy tits. “fuck ‘m cumminggg,” he’d moan between sultry kisses as stringy strands of saliva entangle with one another.

wetly, they form a web of sheeny lustrous cobwebs. geto’s foot rests against your bedazzled hard brake pedal before within seconds, he cums again.

this time, inside.

but it’s different this time- so so different.

it feels tenderly warm..

such hot gooey amounts dribble inside of you, spraying further inside your precious womb and you hum at the feeling.

his pierced cock fitting real nice and snug inside and you moan into his mouth, cocking your head in different directions as you trap his lips with another steamy kiss. “mmph.” a muffled whimper gets caught against your lips and you can already start to feel the whiteish searing ropes of fresh cum trail down the insides of your thighs. geto feels you slowing down on his lap—still buried balls deep, and he grunts in defeat..

soon, embarrassment overtakes him once he realizes how early he finished.

it’s a lot, again.

a thick load splatters heavily inside and past the inner lining of your cunt and he’s shivering underneath you. once you finally break away from his lips, your eyes meet his.

geto’s staring back at you, and you don’t see that cocky sly look in his eyes that everyone else sees.

right now, he looks…needy, and you think you broke him.

“what . . ?” he grouses, his hands still attached to your waist. his grip- it was gentle and tender a rubber thumb softly caressing down your curve. geto wasn’t ready for you to leave the garage, at least not yet.

“say it, pretty boy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss near his chin. your touch - it drove him mad.

never in a million years would he, suguru geto- have thought he’d get humbled by a rookie . .

humbled by you.

geto’s shooting straight daggers at you, but you can tell how flustered he is because he breaks eye contact a second later. you’re making him nervous, the same feeling he was making you at first when you had your first encounter with him.

as geto’s still warmly buried inside, he grunts once you take it upon yourself to softly wrap a hand around his throat.

oh- you were a mere tease, mimicking his exact movements from earlier. slightly wide-eyed and all, geto stares at you. and as he does—there’s that familiar glimpse of brattiness glimmering in his irises again.

you fucking turned him on..

“heh, f- fine then,” he stammers, heaving every few seconds to catch his irregular breaths. his body felt like it was on empty. no more gas left in him and that same cunning grin that plastered on his lips slowly started to fade.

geto’s not so cocky now, and in fact— he lets off a soft quiet whimper once you start to grind against his lap.

shakily, his hand squeezes your ass before finishing his sentence in a shaky defeated rasp.

“you . . fuckin’ win, sweetheart,” and you let off a sweet gasp once a loud smack! interrupts the moment, his hand swatting against your ass. “mhm,” geto grunts, “didn’t s- say stop. finish ridin’ me, sweetheart,” and his gloved finger swirls itself inside of your stuffed full cunt before pulling it right back out.

again, he’s filthy.

and even while being in such a state, geto brings his fingers up to his lips, slowly poppin’ them into his mouth before tasting the concoction mixture of both bittersweet messes. your syrupy cum and his.

quickly, he presses the tips of his rubber fingers toward his uvula, before staring at you with a greedy smug expression. he’s panting harshly, still trying to get over how you just outrode him literally, and he laps up his fingers right in front of you.

geto reclines your seat back a bit as you still straddled him, and he gives your ass its final spank before tiredly huffing,

“best- two out of three, what do ya say, r- rookie?heh..”

#★vegasbaby.#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #female reader #geto suguru #geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #anime smut

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skrunksthatwunk · 10 months ago

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playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there

#how do i tell her she needs to break up with him immediately. posthaste.fuck it funny post over rant incoming tw emotional abuse i think #nyarla dni #(<- roomie and nyarla have met and i don't wanna air roomie's drama to ppl who know her w/o her consent. anon internet ppl only)#listen i'm normally for gentle advising and that's probably what i'll do since i don't want to stress her out but oh my fucking god what is #his problem. he's constantly putting her in these weird no-win situations where the only right answer is to never be upset or disagree or b #wrong on accident or be misunderstood by him and to tell him everything she's feeling so she's not 'playing mind games' but if she says wha #she's feeling he'll interrogate her and badger her with the same questions over and over again insisting she's unreasonable until she gives #in and says she's sorry with an attitude he likes. i fucking don't like him. and a lot of this is observations from today. the day after sh #GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT AND BROKE HER NECK. WHAT THE FUCK.#it's like he expects to be treated like a king on one of the worst days of her life and when she's upset he's like OH. OH I GET IT.#and lectures her on having attitude and taking things out on others when she's literally not even doing that. not to an extent that matters #anyway. like. there's more productive ways of dealing with that. where you don't treat them like a bad kid for getting overwhelmed #he has made her cry multiple times today. i have been around multiple arguments and fights and he's just genuinely. awful i hate him #hell the first argument i overheard *i* was in tears by the end (luckily they left soon after bc i had to run to the basement laundry #dungeon to bawl my eyes out because 1. i can't handle confrontation 2. i've never seen roomie cry and 3. she just seemed so hurt and tired)#anyway he just left again after a fight because. god this is so dumb. she told him to move while they were sleeping in the same twin bed #(remember she's in a neck brace) and he fucking. left the room for an HOUR bc he thought the only thing that could POSSIBLY mean (as he #insisted) was for him to get out of here and then when she was like oh hey i'm sorry i didn't mean it like that he decided to spend the nex #half hour of his short time on this earth chewing her out for not giving him a lengthy explanation while half-asleep as to like. why he #needed to move (she wanted to grab smth) and apparently he sat in the chair by her bed for like 10 mins before leaving so he probably saw #her fall back asleep. and then he got pissy when after he left she didn't pick up her phone when he was calling her? even though he knew sh #was asleep?? she didn't even know he was gone. fucking. i need to get him away from my roomie YESTERDAY #look. miscommunication happens. i'm not saying he's an asshole for wanting things said clearly. i am pro-saying what you mean.#but if every time your gf tells you what she means you make it into a 30 minute lecture (no matter how small the slight and w/o examining i #you're actually right or not) she's not gonna wanna fucking tell you if she doesn't think it's worth the argument. especially if you never #let her rest until she concedes. apology isn't enough. clarification isn't enough. she has to say how wrong she was and beg and GOD. UGHHH #and he's always on about how she hurts his feelings. a gust of wind could hurt his feelings. he's constantly berating her manipulating her #and then he's like >:( see that hurt my feelings you can't hurt ppl's feelings. you're disrespectful. HE"S THE WORST I FUCKING HATE HIM #look sometimes adversity reveals the truth of a person and this just amplified his shittiness so much. mr OH i slept in a HOSPITAL and it #was so bad... you can't be in a bad mood bc i've been doing the bare minimum and you need to prioritize MY feelings rn. also i won't leave

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saymio · 1 month ago

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Silent Obsession

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (the front man) x Fem!reader

Summary: your husband was missing, and all you did for days was stay at home crying your eyes out...waiting for your dearest husband to come home. this was until inho had decided to come give you a little visit while you were all alone and vulnerable.

Warning: dead dove: do not eat, noncon, degradation, light bdsm, manipulation, In-ho is obsessed with you, rough sex, mentioned age gap (20 years), cheating (not rlly), there might be more but I'm too lazy to write it.

A/N: not proof read. this takes place during s1. (most/all of the beginning contains junho x reader content)

7.2k Words

...

it was 2015, just a few days ago your boyfriend junho had invited you to meet his family on the day of his brothers birthday. his brother was turning 40 and they were hosting a small party, just a few people... and your boyfriend thought this would be a great time to invite you to meet his mom and brother. he was ecstatic at the thought, he really wanted his family to get to know you since last year he had met yours. and he was really serious about you... but it would be an understatement to say you were nervous. hell, you were scared. you wanted to leave a good impression on his family, this was the man you wanted to marry. if his mom didnt approve of you what could you say? she was wrong? that her opinion didn't matter? these thoughts swarmed your head for hours every day....

junho was driving the two of you from your small shared apartment to his moms place. you were sitting in the passenger seat as you stared out the window of the car, you were shaking... not from the cold but from the anxiousness you were brimming with. your fingers tapped against the interior of the car, your nails making a clicking sound every time they touched the material. "are you cold y/n? I told you itd be cold today..you should've worn a bigger jacket" junho glanced at you for a second before staring back at the road and sighing. he hated when this happened, when youd be so insistent in not 'ruining' your outfit that you wouldn't pay attention to whether you'd be cold or not. this always happens! ..but he always wears a jacket for you. because he knows you'll end up shivering from the cold gusts of wind and he cant stand the thought of you suffering from the freezing temperatures. you let out a small chuckle, it was barely over a whisper but junho heard you loud and clear. "why're you laughing.." he frowned a little, not because he's upset or mad at you but just because you werent taking the situation that seriously. "what if you catch a cold? at least think about me when you dress this way..you know I hate when you're in pain.." the last part of his sentence was soft and quiet, as if he was murmuring to himself..making sure you wouldn't hear him. "stop worrying so much babe...I'm not cold or anything.. just a little jittery, its my first time meeting your family after all." you giggled at his genuine worry for you, he was such a drama queen. making these small actions seem so much more serious then they were..but its something that made you love junho. how kind and protecting he was of the people he cared about. "nervous? you don't have to be nervous y/n...I'm sure they'll love you." junho's right hand made its way to your left hand. holding it tight before giving you a soft gentle smile. his ability to sooth you with just his smile had to be studied, he truly was an angel on earth to you, like he had a halo on his head 24/7. you leaned forward a little and left a quick peck on his cheek, quickly leaning back down to your seat and looking away from him. but at the corner of junhos eyes he could see how red you've gotten...he thought it was adorable. how the two of youve been dating for 2 years but you still got flustered over small kisses. you were so innocent and kind, the exact woman he needed in his life...

but little did junho know, he was right. his family did love you..especially his brother.

you had arrived at his mothers house, .. your nerves were spiking, how should you introduce yourself? what if the cake you made was still raw? what if inho doesn't like his present? these thoughts ran through your head as you two waited for someone to open the door. your finger nails tapping against the box the cake you had made was in. the sound deafening you as you just wanted the damn door to open already. you really just hoped youd make a good impression... after what felt like an eternity the door opened, behind to door revealed the birthday boy himself, Hwang In-ho. junho just shook his hand before you bowed at him slightly before shaking his hand and introducing himself briefly. "happy birthday In-ho, my names y/n" In-ho just nodded coldly at you, if the harsh winds outside didn't freeze you his stares did. he stepped aside, allowing the two of you in. he lead the both of you up the apartment complex stairs, your heels making a loud click sound echo though the staircase with every step you took. after only a bit of walking up stairs you had reached the door to where the party was being hosted.. . . when junho had told you itd be a 'party' you expected a family gathering with like 15 people, but upon arrival you quickly realized..it was truly just him, his brother and mom celebrating inho's birthday today. you were pleasantly surprised, you hated large groups of people..it made you skittish and always super nervous. so just 3 other people being there calmed your nerves down, alot. the apartment was small and cozy, very homey and nice. his mother had made a mini feast with delicious foods and decorated the place with a few balloons and banners. it was a seemingly wholesome sight of a mother doing something nice for her sons special day, it made your heart warm up inside your chest as you took a seat at the table. "hi honey, what's your name?" junho's mother grabbed one of your hands, cupping it with the both of hers. you felt yourself blush and smile, you had barely even been inside yet his mother was being so kind already. her soft gentle voice, and kind soft eyes. it was everything that's junho was. "y/n, what about you miss?" you were trying your best to be as polite as possible, you didn't want to tip her off and cause her to hate you.. but you felt kind of uncomfortable.. inho..he was staring at you alot. and it was like he wasnt trying to hide it, his dark eyes piecing into your soul. as if he were looking for the innocence inside of you... to take it away from you. the entire day just led to you getting more and more uncomfortable. you weren't able to stare into his eyes because you felt if you did he would just jump onto you not giving a shit about his mother and brother being there too. "y/n, what would you say if your favorite thing about junho?" inho spoke, his deep voice sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.. this entire atmosphere..it was odd. but it was like only you caught onto it. you stared at inho before turning to junho...he was blushing. he tried keeping a stoic face but you could tell he was getting flustered before you even spoke. his ears tinted in a light pink an so was his neck. "ah.. well his kindness..I think its the main reason I fell in love...he's very kind and soft spoken to people. at least until they do something wrong..but either way he's an angel." a gentle smile took over your face, you stared at junho and then at inho to continue your sentence..it was obvious you were head over heels for this man.. "he's just a very likable man." inho smiled at you, not speaking a word but it was like his face said them all for you. but they weren't the words you'd expect a caring older brother to say, it was more like a .. 'wow how nice.' but in a sarcastic tone.. his mother on the other hand.. "aww how sweet! young love, its so beautiful." she clasped her hands together before grabbing your forearm and staring up at you with twinkling eyes, it was like she was already envisioning your wedding and family with junho. "promise me you'll take care of my son, okay?"

it was a little past 10pm by now, everyone had eaten a slice of cake and junho's mother adored it. junho was right, his mom did love you. she was already talking about marriage and how she wouldnt be surprised if you made the wedding cake because the one you had brought today was "just too delicious!" you laughed and giggled at her antics, your face flushed in embarrassment. you turned to look at inho, who was staring at you intensely. your happiness almost instantly vanished as you shuffled in your chair. maybe he was upset you hadn't given him his gift yet...that should do it!! maybe he'd stop once you did. "a- inho, I brought you a gift." his eyes widened and it had seemed like he just heard life changing news, maybe he really was just sulking over a present..it was kind of cute. you grabbed your bag from your feet next to you and shuffled around until you found a yellow box, you pushed it towards inho and smiled. your tried your best to give a genuine, heartfelt smile even though you felt uncomfortable with all his glances and stares. he smiled at you, this time it seemed a little less fake...but still not genuine. he opened the box, it was a watch. a very beautiful one. it was shimmering under the dinning room light, a light white silver with simple but detailed engravings on the band of the watch. it was beautiful and it definitely wasn't the cheapest, you don't remember how much it was exactly since you had bought it the same day junho had told you about his brothers birthday..but you knew it was enough to make you wince at the receipt. "I left the receipt folded under the cloth Incase it isn't to your li-" you were cut off by inhos voice, it was calm, not as cold as it was before..it was rather soothing even.. "no. its perfect." he put the watch on, adjusting it so it fit his wrist perfectly. you felt your lips creep into a wide smile, you were so glad this day was going perfectly. "wow, that's such a pretty watch! it must've costed you a lot." their mother interrupted the two of you, staring at the watch that sat on inhos wrist and then at you. "inho, say thank you! be polite." she hit the back of his head harshly, as if she were scolding a little kid... you laughed at the scene, mothers truly see their children as their babies forever. "no- its okay miss don't wo-" it seemed like today was full of interruptions and cut offs as inho did just it again. "thank you y/n, I appreciate it a lot." his face was blank again, no readable expression was there.. but based off his passed reactions..you felt he was being sincere. . . . "thank you miss, thank you inho." you bowed at the both of them while you stood at the front door with junho, showing your gratitude for their kindness and patience with you and your boyfriend. "of course honey, please come back any time you want." junho's mother grabbed your hand one more time, inho nodded along with her. he wasn't a man of many words but it seemed his scary demeanor had vanished. maybe it was never even there and you were just nervous..either way you were glad you didn't leave the house with a weird feeling about your boyfriends brother. juho's mother then shoo'd the two of you away, telling you it was late and you shouldn't stay up so late at such a young age... you felt happy. a warm feeling sat in your heart and stomach, it was like you had just found your second family.

time skip (5 years)

there you sat in the police station, its been days since youve last seen your husband. you were sobbing into the palm of your hands, the salty liquid dripped onto your long dress as you drained ever drop of water from your body. you were terrified. what happened to him?? where was he?? what had he gotten into? you were devastated to say the least, you explained with a shaky and quaky voice that your husband had just told you he was off to investigate his brothers vanishment and would be back by the night..like always! so when you woke up and he wasn't there you just felt dread. you texted him and texted him all day to no response. when he didn't come back for the second day you reported him missing. you reported this story to the police about 9 times already, everyday since you reported him missing you came to the police station for any clues or help..an obviously everyday they told you the same thing...that they had nothing. the only reason they didn't push you off to the side when you came in was well..because your husband worked for them. he was a police officer under them, it'd feel disrespectful to you and junho if they just told you to give up hope on finding your husband. maybe you'd stop after another week or two..you'd realize whatever fate inho had found was the same junho ended to aswell... and not only that but you were pretty, kind and in obvious distress over your husband. they'd feel like they just kicked a sick puppy in the stomach if they told you to go away. so every day, at 8am you come in. usually in a pretty sundress but your state of mind isn't as pretty. your eye bags were prominent and you seemed to constantly be in a state of dissociation.... "you promise there's nothing? please double check! please..I need my husband back. you don't understand" your words were exasperated and rushed, you wanted answers, your husband, closure, anything! your breaths were getting heavy as you reached your delicate hand to the tissue box on the desk infront of you. you felt yourself breaking down, more and more, every. day. the police officer let out a breathy sigh, he was trying his very best to not tell you off. to tell you to go back to your home and cry there or something. to stop wasting his time every single fucking day.. but he couldn't. and he wouldn't. not when your state was some of the worst he's seen in his years of being an officer. "listen ma'am, there seems to be a dead end a-" you slammed your hand onto the table, one still holding the now damp tissue as you started to cry harder. you shook your head violently, indicating a very obvious no...or in this case obvious denial. "no. there..there isn't a dead end. he's alive and he needs your help!! please..please keep searching i-i'll.." you started to dig into your purse, the same one junho had gifted you for your 5th anniversary not long before this whole ordeal. when you felt what you were looking for you snatched it out your bag, like it was grabbing it, stealing it from your grasp. "h-here..d-dont stop searching please. I'll give you this..p-please.." in between words you started to cry more, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping off your skin. your head was lowered and you were looking at your lap. you didn't want to stop looking for him. you wouldn't stop until you knew he was safe. "ma'am...you don't have to give me money for doing my job." he slid the stack of money that you had taken from your purse back to you and shook his head in disapproval. "listen.. sigh we're trying our best okay? we arent just laying around doing nothing, he was our coworker and we want to find him as much as you do.." he looked away from your depressing state, you were catching your breath and shaking, your fists were curled into balls. it was clear, even though he was an officer that he didn't want to find junho nearly as much as you did..he didn't think it would even be possible to. "just..take a break. you're overwhelming yourself and it isn't good for you. junho is strong and you know this, so just believe in him and his ability to live..."

the officer opened a drawer that was next to his seat, it was a little pile of candies.. he grabbed a handful and handed you a few. with a shaky hand you took the candies, your eyes were red and puffy. it was painfully obvious that you had just broken down in tears. you didnt want to speak but it was obvious by the way you acted, that all you wanted right now was for your husband to come back into your embrace. "if you want I can step out and let you calm down." the officer stares at you, awaiting the answer that would leave your lips. "no..its okay.. i-...whatever. thank you, I will take a break to calm down and compose myself. please have a good day." you mumbled the first few words, like a scared child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar and is now making up an excuse. you let out a loud sigh before you stood up from your chair, rubbing your tired, sore eyes before fixing your hair and grabbing your bag. you turned around right as you were in front of the office door, you bowed at the officer to show your gratitude as you proceeded to touch the cold metal handle of the door and creaked it open. with a click of the door closing you were walking away from the room you had just broken down in.

there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed you and your husband shared. it felt cold every time you sunk your body into the soft mattress..cold and empty. you weren't used to this, you were used to your husband coming home from work and giving you a kiss. slipping into the soft blankets together as you worked as heaters for each other's bodies. you didn't like this. you didn't want this. you flopped your upper torso onto the bed, causing it to make a squeaking sound to the sudden pressure. your legs were dangling off the side of the bed as you stared up into the ceiling. the world around you felt hazy, like everything that surrounded your body was just an empty void of nothingness. the world was meaningless without junho. you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier...until they had finally closed shut.

knock... knock... knock you jolted up from your bed, who was here at this time? it's like 2am... you stared at the closed bedroom door, thinking about if it was a good idea to open the doorm. you're a young woman alone at her house at 2am...what if it was a sex trafficker trying to kidnap and rape you!!?? knock... knock... knock the loud but slow knocks echoed throughout the house, the knocks took a 3 second pause inbetween..it was so creepy.. it made your skin crawl.. bu...what if...what if the police have clues about junho and came to talk to you about it they heard of it!! or..what if junho had finally come home..... these thoughts rand through your head, you were scared of what might be behind of that door. but not scared enough to not open it. you slowly got up from your bed, making it squeak under the pressure of your body. your soft slippers made a swooshing sound against the wooden floors as you shuffled your way to the front door... knock... knock.... knock there it was...the knocking. you couldn't help but feel this dry lump from in your throat, but you had to do it...you needed to make sure... if it was some stranger you'd just slam the door on them and go and hide in a closet or something.. your swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your palm on the cold metal of the handle, unlocking it with a small click and turning it clockwise so that it opened the door.. you didn't open it alot, just enough to see who was on the other side. your eyes stared at the dark soulless eyes In front of you, it was a random man. you had no idea why he was here or what he wanted..but he looked very familiar..maybe he was an off duty cop that just wanted to check up on you..? "h-hello..? how can I help you..." your voice was small and quiet, barely above a whisper as you used the door as some kind of shield from the strange man. "yes. you can." you stared up at the man with confused puppy dog eyes, what did that even mean?? you furrowed your eyebrows and squinted your eyes as you stared at him..you were about to close the door on the strange man until something clicked inside of you. you recognized where he was from.. "inho?! w-what? what are you.." your judgmental facial expression quickly changed into one of shook and worry, was he here to see junho? how would you break the news that his brother was now missing too?? you raised your small hand to your mouth, covering it in shock..you didn't even know what to do....what should you say..? your eyes started to water and tear up, you were reminded of the harsh reality junho was in..he was seriously missing and now the person he went missing looking for was In front of you...it seemed like everyone was just against you. mocking the disappearance of your husband. "what...are you doing here? a-are you here for junho..he's.." you let out choked sighs after every other word, taking your hands from your mouth to your entire face. you were a crying mess In front of a man you barely knew, it was so embarrassing. you were so pathetic and sad. everyone's been telling you to just get over it but here you are, sobbing for what felt like the 6th time today. a loud sigh snapped you out of your saddened state,, but...it wasn't a sigh of disapproval or frustration...it was like a sigh of...desire. like he was getting off to the sight your sobbing, scared and fragile body. "you're doing this on purpose, you have to be." you stared up at inho with confusion. you eyebrow was raised, as if asking him what the fuck he meant by that. before you could even mutter a word he pushed you, really harshly. you went flying back into your home, head hitting the hard wood. you felt yourself getting dizzier and dizzier for a few seconds...you felt like you couldn't move, speak or even see anymore...your head was spinning and alarms were ringing from the inside of your head..until you were passed out.

you woke up... you were sitting in the middle of the dining room, it seemed like someone had moved the table and other chairs out the way as it was literally only you. you and the chair you were sitting on. the room was barely lit up, you could only see some of your surroundings due to the singular light that was on. the ligh that bulb was right on top of you..it felt like you were about to get interrogated for murder,,you were terrified. for you wanted to scream, cry and just run away from what was happening. but you couldn't. your ankles were tied onto the legs of the chair. your arms and torso were bounded to the chair itself with a thick rope., it was digging into your skin hard..it hurt. alot.. you wanted to squirm around and get yourself free but you knew you'd just end up knocking the chair down and you'd be stuck in an awkward position..you tried to start screaming but you couldnt, you were confused..it was like your mouth was glued shut.....your eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone, anything to help you. it took you a second for you to put the pieces together but.. once you did you realized.. your mouth was duck taped shut. you didn't know what to do, you were overwhelmed and you just wanted your husband back to you. you closed your eyes shut as warm salty tears fell from your eyes. your eyes just couldn't catch a break, could they? they were tired and sore. even when you werent sleepy it hurt to open and close the..a result of crying for days.. you just wanted to feel happiness again. but clearly that wasn't going to happen soon. was your fate going to be the same as your husbands? were his kidnappers after you to sew your mouth shut?? you didn't want to die..at least not because you got closure.. "you shouldn't cry Infront of me. its a bad idea. I have a thing for little girls that look pretty when they cry." your head jumped forward, looking at the figure that had stepped out the shadows surrounding you.. your eyes widened, remembering that inho had been the one that knocked you over and caused you to black out. the same man that had gone missing 5 years ago, the same man that your brother went missing looking for.. what was he doing here? was he here to kill you? to keep you silent? to assault you? thoughts rand through your head as he took large, slow steps towards you. as if he was mocking your frightened state. he reached his right hand out towards you, your eyes landed on the silver watch he was wearing. it seemed so similar to the one you had gifted all those years ago..but no way he would still be wearing it, right? before you could even process another thought his hand gripped at your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to literally stare up at him. the roughness of his grip made you wince in pain..he didn't come here with intentions of being nice and if you didn't realize that person you definitely realized that now. you tried to scream and kick your feet, you knew the tape and rope would stop your attempts and make them useless but you still tried. your screams just came out as diluted, muffled noises. the tape had stopped you from making any loud noises... the chair under your only shook a little but it wasn't enough to lighten the grip inho had on your hair. his dark, soulless eyes stared you down. they were like black orbs, nothing behind them. he grinned at you, like he was watching a cartoon and a character had did something funny. he was laughing at you. he thought this was funny. "you look so stupid, you do know that the tape will just silence all your screams, right? or are you too young and dumb to understand that yet." he tilted his head at you and gave you a mockingly confused expression. he was having the time of his fucking life while you were here, scared for your damn life. you glared at him, trying to intimidate him..doing anything to scare him...trying to find the little humanity in him that feels sympathy was clearly never going to happen. so you had to try another approach..even if it wasn't going to work either... and your suspicions were right ..

he just smiled at you, another mockingly fake smile... he released his hand from the grip he had on your hair and pinched your cheeks, just as roughly as he did with your hair. leaving a red mark when he let go... it was like he was treating you like you were a pouting child, stomping your feet because your mom didn't let you buy the comically huge lollipop you really wanted. "youre not scary sweetie." the pet name made you want to throw up in your mouth. he knew well you were his sister in law but here he was, calling you pet names with his disgusting voice. " you know..ive had my eyes on you since i met you...you're just so gorgeous..and delicate." he took a short but slow walk around u and stopped to stand behind you. his cold hands reached to your face and covered your eyes. you couldn't see anything but you knew he was leaned up in your ear...you could feel his hot breath making you unnervingly uncomfortable. "I just wanna ruin you." your breathe hitched in your throat, he was going to rape you. you know it, you had to fight back, you had to. you couldn't let a man that wasn't your husband put his dick inside you. inho took his cold hands away from your face and walked back in front of you. you glanced down at his crotch and...there was a bulge...he was getting off to your scared shape. he truly was an emotionless sadist.. he held up his index finger to your covered lips. "shh. make any noise and I wont think twice about killing you and your husband." your eyes widened as you heard the last part...that meant your husband was alive..and he knew where he was. you nodded slowly, complying with his words. he ripped the piece of tape off your mouth, causing you to let out a yelp in pain. you stared at him with a frightened face, you realized you had just made a loud sound...you didn't want to die you didn't..you didn't want your husband to die! "I said. be quiet." the truth with inho was, he had already killed your husband..at least he thought he did. only a day ago did he shot junho, causing him to fall off the side of the island...he probably drowned and is floating lifeless in the sea right now.. but you didnt need to know that...and it was clear you weren't even aware. your mouth was shut and you tried to silence your heavy rapid breathing....you really did love your husband..he wanted to steal that love from junhos grasp. he leaned down, his face was now perfectly aligned with yours... you wanted to say something, you wanted to scream and cry but if you did he'd kill you...you knew he would... his left hand started to rub your cheek, it was gentle and warm but it just made you hate it even more...his fake kindness. you hated it. his lips connected with yours, at first it seemed like he was trying to be gentle but it was obvious he had quickly gotten bored of it before he got rough. your teeth were clashing with each other as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. exploring every inch of it before he started to nip at your lips...he was aggressive and messy. everything junho wasn't.. this wasn't the kind of kiss you wanted or craved. you felt like your eyes were sewn shut the way you refused to open them, you didn't want to stare at inho. you just wanted this to end..maybe once it did you'd finally have your husband back. after what felt like hours of making out he has finally took his chapped lips off of your soft ones. a string of saliva connected the two of you as he caught his breath. you opened your eyes to stare at him, they were watery..your tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you caught your breath. to inho you eyes were like glass marbles...and he wanted to shatter them into pieces. you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. if you were calm it wouldn't be as bad. you read this inside your mind over and over and over again. you just prayed he would use you quickly and then leave... "you know, that day..the day where junho has brought you to our mothers house for my birthday.." his eyes wandered away from you, as if he were recalling the day in exact detail, scene by scene...

his eyes snapped back to yours, holding intense eye contact until he continued his sentence... "when I asked you what you loved most about junho you told me you loved his kindness. you said he was a soft person..an angel in your eyes." he crouched down, staring at you with intense eyes. his sharp features were like daggers, stabbing one by one into your heart. "you told me you loved something about him that I lacked. I'm not a kind person. and right now..you probably think I'm the devil instead of an angel like my brother.." he smiled at you, it was a cold, fake smile. if you touched his face right now it'd probably be ice cold.. "thats how I knew someone like you would never willingly be with a man like me.. but it's okay, I'll just force myself onto you." you started to cry, the salty liquid streamed down from your cheeks to your chin. your eyes were red and puffy, you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to be with this man, you didn't want this. inhos left head reached to your face, this time he squeezed the both of your cheeks so that your lips were puckered at him. "got it, princess?" he leaned in to kiss you again, this time he went aggressive right away. forcing his tongue into your mouth, some of your tears dripped onto his mouth. letting him taste the saltiness of your sadness. and it was delicious.

there you sat, he had freed your ankles from the restraints on the chair. nipping and licking at your clit. you hated this, you couldn't stop crying. you felt disgusting, a man that wasn't your husband was licking and eating your pussy out. why would you let this happen? at this point death felt better than breaking your husbands heart. you lets out cries and soft no's as he slurped your juices. you hated that it felt good, you hated that he knew what he was doing. your moans and mewls filled the room, followed with wet sloppy sounds of spit and cum mixed together. he's been eating you out for what felt like hours, you've probably came like 3 times already. you were getting tired..your legs were shaky, trying to close in on themselves but inhos arms kept them wide open for you. "p-please stop. I don't like thi-this...ah...please..let me go already..please.." you were begging with him, your eyes were shaky, your face was flushed and your lips were wet from his aggressive kisses. god. the scene of you begging for him to stop as he abused your clit was one he wanted engraved in his mind forever. he let go of your pussy with a loud pop, your juices and his spit was all over his mouth and chin. he looked like a wild animal that had just eaten his prey alive. with his sleeve he wiped off the liquid on his face. 'ruining' his all black jacket. "you want me to stop but your cum is all over my face and lips. you want me to stop but you keep moaning. just admit you're a slut for me." you close your eyes shut, shaking your head viciously, you don't want him. you don't want this. you just want your husband to be safe. that's all you want... inho scoffs at you, as if you were lying to his face. maybe he truly did believe you wanted this..that you wanted him.. but you knew it wasn't true, you knew that you loved junho and that you werent fighting back back because you just wanted him back.. you'd break down in tears in his arms once he comes home, you'll explain it when he's home. he'd understand..right..? you were lost in your thoughts, but reality snapped you out of them.. 2 long fingers were inside of your core, curling and pumping in and out... it hurt so much. it was nothing like you were used to, slow paced and gentle..no..it was fast and rough. you let out a cry, you were in so much pain it made you want to go insane. the rope that was still tied around your arms and waist dug into your skin, burning you as you struggled under the restraints..trying to find a way out. it felt like inhos was trying to split you in half, the rough skin on his finger pads only made it worse. but ofcoourse it had to feel good, because he knew what he was doing. even if it was messy, even if it was rough, even if you didn't like it..he knew how to make a woman feel good past all the pain. he tilted his head up towards you, his dark almond eyes burned holes into yours. "you gonna cum?" instead of a question, it felt like a demand. demanding you to answer yes, scaring you into saying yes.. but you didn't say yes, you said no. you shook your head and mouthed no to inho, not daring to say it out loud..and it obviously made him upset. he sneered at you before grabbing is free hand and pinching your clit before speeding the pace of his fingers. this was something you've never felt before, the pleasure finally overshadowed the pain and it felt like he had just forced your orgasm out of your body. your cum coated his digits, leaving a slightly milky white color on them.. you were catching your breath, it was hard to breath..the pain, anxiety and fear were catching up to you...you felt your throat slowly closing on you..you felt like you couldn't even breath enough air to supply your lungs are this point.. you were so caught up in your own world that you didn't even realize how he was pressing against the bulge that was begging to be freed from his trousers..he stared at you with bleak eyes, there was nothing behind them...nothing but desire and want..you were scared witless of what he would do to your poor body next. and whatever it was, you didn't want it

the bed was creaking under you, the same bed you and juho slept in everyday... you legs were pressing onto your stomach, the skin rubbing against each other. inho was slamming his cock in and out of you.. touching spots you didn't even know could be reached before this. you felt horrible for feeling so good. but you didn't want this. you were a crying moaning mess. your nails were digging onto his hands, the ones that were pressing you down. you were begging for him to stop, you didn't want this..you felt like you were being forced into this. with the life of your husband on the line.. inho let go of your left thigh and reached to your neck. his freezing hand sending shivers through your body as he started to choke you whilst pounding in and out of you..destroying your gummy insides. he lowered his face to you and scoffed, you looked so pathetic. crying and sobbing acting like you weren't enjoying his fat cock. why wouldn't you just admit you liked it for once? "acting like youre the victim while my cocks deep inside of you. is this all women do? complain about everything..just admit you like it. I wont tell." you felt so degrading. you were getting fucked by a man you barely knew on the bed your missing husband and you slept on every day at somepoint. using his life against you and now he's blaming you? was it really your fault? could you have just turned him away and still gotten junho back? was that an option that you weren't told about? you started crying, your weak arms pushing against his chest with no avail. you just wanted it to stop, you were in pain and now you're being told its your fault you're in this situation. you can never win. you began to sob louder, begging him to let you go, louder and louder until you were wailing like a stupid baby. your hand grasped at the tight grip he had on your neck, then to his chest to push him away again. "shut up." he snarled before taking off his hand from your neck, he had left a bruise from how hard he was gripping...with the same hand he harshly slapped you. shutting your cries up quickly. a red spot started to quickly form, your skin was now irritated in what felt like every place on your body.. "you're such a slut. taking the dick of a man 20 years older than you on the very bed your husband would sleep on. do you not feel ashamed? hmm?" he hummed at you, waiting for your reply. but you didn't even mutter a word, nothing. you decided you'll just take it with no noise, if you stay quiet up maybe it'll end faster?.. it should...shouldn't it..you were trying to comfort yourself in your head.. "you can keep trying to tell yourself otherwise but youre nothing but a dirty cheater. taking dick like a good girl. this probably isn't the first time youve done this huh?" he laughed at your now soulless face, he was right when he said he wanted to ruin you. he was doing that, and it got worse with every second that passed. "ffuck I'm close. you better cum or else I'll js' keep on using you until you do." you started to tear up, your clit twitching and your hole began to clench around his cock. you felt good, but terrible at the same time..you doubted he was cumming because he thought you felt good though, it was a factor but it was probably your shape that made him so horny. you were sad, in pain...tired... he got off to it so bad. you let out quiet pants and moans, indicating to inho that you were close too. he started to get sloppy, his pace getting even faster as the wet slapping sound of skin filled your ears to the brim. you felt your clit pulsating, begging for release...once you came you'd be free..you'd be...you'd be....be.. "a-aa.. fuck fuck fuckfck fuck! ouOUGH~" you let out loud, filthy moans. probably for the first time that night, instead of your cries it was your moans and whimpers that the room was now brimming with. inho loved the sound of your noises, your cries, moans, everything. God it made him so horny...once he felt you cum all over his cock he let his go through as well. fucking his orgasm into you deeper, and deeper with a loud groan..

he kept moving slowly, fucking you through your orgasm as your breathes calmed down.. "I want to ruin every inch of kindness and hope for humanity you have left in you. you're so perfect. perfect to corrupt.." his hand raised to your cheek and started to rub it 'lovingly'. you had a feeling he wasn't going to let you go like he had told you he would.

...

Another not: I FINALLY FINISHED YAY took me like all day again but ....yay!! I hope u guys liked it. I'm pretty proud of it but idk if its ooc or not... but SMASH THE LIKE BUTTON N HIT SUBSCRIBE 4 MORE..!!!!!!!

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

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lesbxdyke · 8 months ago

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I would like to again big up libraries as safe spaces for people of all types!

I had a psychotic episode in my local library while I was in there working and had convinced myself that I was in a bubble dimension and if I left the library I would die, and that being what had happened to the librarian because I hadn't seen them in an hour (it's a small, local library. You can see the librarians desk from where I sit to work)

Now obviously they weren't dead, they were just in the little office that I couldn't see into.

I'm also lucky enough to be a very self aware psychotic, so I reached out to my support network to make sure I got home safely. But none of them could actually get me OUT of the library and I was still absolutely certain that if I stepped off the carpet and onto the tile, I would die.

So I got up, I made my way to the desk, I found the librarian and I said "I need your help. I'm having a psychotic episode and this is what I currently believe. Could you please come out from behind your desk and stand on the tiles so I can see it won't kill me?"

And they did. They didn't shame me, or laugh, or tell me it wasn't real. They said "Yeah, that must be scary." And thanked me when I admitted I'd thought them dead and been really upset about that because I liked them.

And then stood there on the tile, while I stood on the carpet, for ten minutes while I chatted shit and tried to build up my courage to step on the tile, just in case. Including telling me that if this happened again and I needed to call someone, to disregard the usual 'don't call people in the library' rule and just do so after I promised I was going to be calling my husband the second I was on the tile so he could safely walk me home.

(& so no one worries: my husband got me home safe, and a friend came to check on me a little while later and brought me food and I'm fully Cognizant and out of it now)

I cannot imagine another place where I could approach someone and say that and not get the police or an ambulance called on me. Neither of which I needed or would have been helpful.

I cannot imagine another place where a member of staff would stand somewhere for ten minutes to make sure I felt safe enough leaving.

I cannot imagine another place where I would not only be explicitly welcomed back, but be told "If this happens again here, disregard our normal rules to take care of yourself."

I cannot imagine another place on this earth that I would feel safe enough returning to, 3 days later, after an episode like that.

Libraries are a fucking Godssend and should be protected at all costs!

#personal #okay to reblog #public libraries #support libraries #i love libraries #psychosis #actually psychotic #also still very very glad my brain was lying and that librarian isn't dead #they're good people #husbandtag

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keferon · 2 months ago

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Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Part one

Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.

Under the cut⤵️

Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?

Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?

For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.

Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.

It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!

But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.

Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.

He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.

Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.

So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.

That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?

Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...

His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.

Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?

Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.

Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.

It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!

People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.

In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.

He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.

Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.

Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.

Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.

Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.

Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.

Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.

Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.

Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.

Uggh.

The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.

Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.

When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.

When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.

The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??

Freaking cursed.

Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.

One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.

If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--

He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.

They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).

“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.

“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”

Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.

“Mech, what the hell?”

“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”

And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.

This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?

Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.

Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”

There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.

“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”

Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.

Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?

“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“

Prowl hums

“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”

Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.

“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”

Jazz laughs

“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused

“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”

Prowl twitches his door wings

“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”

Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.

He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.

He's thinking.

Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...

“It's...complicated.”

This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...

And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.

It's also probably too late.

But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.

And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.

He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.

He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”

Swerve laughs.

“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”

“It's not harmful?”

Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.

“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”

Jazz tilts his head

“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?

Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.

He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.

The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.

After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.

He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--

Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.

This is the place where he was last.

He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.

Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.

Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?

He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.

He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.

Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.

All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...

He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?

The answer is probably none.

Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.

A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.

Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.

Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.

Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.

Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.

It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.

He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.

It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.

Blurr's name isn't there.

So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.

He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.

That's...something's wrong.

He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”

Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.

“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?

Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.

He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.

He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.

Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.

Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.

Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.

Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.

“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”

Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”

Swindle adjusts his glasses

“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”

He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.

Goes back to his seat.

“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”

Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.

“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.

“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”

Blurr's eye widens

“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”

“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”

Swindle puts his hat back on.

“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”

The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”

They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.

“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”

Blurr smiles sourly.

“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”

Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.

Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.

Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.

The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.

The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.

Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.

Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.

Ah, damn it.

Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.

And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.

Blurr ... is crumbling.

Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.

But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.

He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.

Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.

When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.

Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.

It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”

Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.

Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.

On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.

Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.

Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.

Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.

Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.

But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.

From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”

More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?

There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.

While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.

“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”

Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.

“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”

Blurr freezes.

No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't

“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”

Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”

Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.

Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.

“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”

Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.

“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”

He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”

...

“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”

Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.

____________________________

Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”

“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”

Jazz laughs

“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.

He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.

He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.

Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.

Left to himself.

He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.

....

Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”

Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.

On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.

He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?

“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”

Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.

Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.

“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”

Blurr squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”

He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.

“ Show me more?”

“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”

“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”

Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.

Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.

“They really drugged you huh?”

“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”

He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair

“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”

Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.

"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?

Race???”

He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket

“I won't.”

He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.

“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”

“...”

“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”

Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.

Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”

Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.

“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”

“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”

Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”

“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”

He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues

“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”

Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.

Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.

“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”

“You'll tell me later?”

Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.

“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”

---------------

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”

Swerve snorts.

“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”

“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”

Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.

“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”

Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.

“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.

Swerve laughs.

“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”

_______________

His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.

He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.

They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.

Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.

Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.

Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.

“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.

“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”

Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly

“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”

“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”

Pharma tilts his head

“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”

Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.

“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”

“What do you mea...”

“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.

“No I'm just...”

“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”

“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”

Swerve shakes his head.

“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”

Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”

He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself

“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”

Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.

“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma

Swerve shrugs.

“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”

Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”

Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.

“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”

Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.

Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.

Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.

Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....

“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”

Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”

Blurr shrugs.

“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”

Swerve twitches.

“Third??? How are you still standing???”

He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.

“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.

When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.

“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”

“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”

Jazz smiles

“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”

“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”

Jazz frowns

“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”

“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”

#maccadam #tf mecha universe #blurr #Swerve #mecha writing #mecha kef writing #mecha bs writing #if you saw any mistakes - no you didn’t #it’s six am I need to go to bed but I wanted to post it before my brain shuts down completely #mecha pilot jazz au #jazzprowl #jazzprowl happens on the background lol #Swindle #two nano seconds of Vortex #Shockwave #Pharma

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levanterhaze · 15 days ago

Text

gameboy ― bangchan

♡ ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] fratboy!bangchan x f!reader . unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, graphic sex details, if you don't feel comfortable, don't read! fingering (f. receiving), just pure smut.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i wrote this in one night, i think i was inspired or something. it's been a while since i've written, but i found this one interesting. i'm still thinking about doing a second part!

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡―[part 2]

The music was a bit too loud, but that's just the vibe, right?

Eunji was super focused on her school skirt she had borrowed from Sohee, working hard to recreate Britney Spears' iconic style. The theme was Y2K, and the fraternity was buzzing with Cher Horowitz, Paris Hilton, and Beyoncé energy.

You took a refreshing sip of your drink while your friends spread out to mingle. Sohee was caught up in the moment, and she and Minho, her boyfriend, shared a lovey-dovey moment. Eunji was telling someone how tired college was making her, that she barely had time to go to a spa, which, for Eunji, was total nonsense.

You were sharing a room with the two of them, which was very fortunate as they were both top-notch people. You scanned the place, looking for something or someone. It was a bad habit, you knew. Going to frat parties meant sharing the same square metre as your nemesis – or nearly so.

Your friends were aware of your mutual dislike of each other, but as you couldn't seem to avoid going to parties or socializing with your friends, you made a conscious effort to be the bigger person and not let his presence upset you. That said, it wasn't always easy.

Bangchan got what he wanted most of the time. He was arrogant and overbearing, which drove you crazy. As a woman who fought hard against all kinds of ignorance, it was gross to see him bragging around campus as if he were the last man in the world.

What was even more annoying was that all the girls fell for his bullshit.

Sohee, who was the most blunt of the three, said this was "suppressed horniness" and that the moment you and Bangchan were alone, all this animosity would turn into libido and it would all be sorted in one good fuck. But that was far from happening if it was up to you. "Now we're talking," Hyunjin appeared in your line of sight. With his long black hair slicked back, he looked like a slightly slutty version of Patrick Bateman, with fake blood on his jaw and chest. "You look good.

With your hands on your waist, you turned around to show how much effort you'd put into your costume.

As someone deeply involved in theatre, you are always fully committed to any challenge. Whether it's a play or a fraternity party, you commit wholeheartedly. After much thought, you decided that you would be Suki. The lilac blouse was small and suited your upper body perfectly. The pink leather pants were almost identical, ending just below your bottom and with garters that went down to your thighs, exposing your skin by just a few inches. Suki is a sexy and iconic character, which is a perfect fit for you.

"You know it's not Halloween, right?" you shouted over loud music. Hyunjin gave a casual shrug and smiled, showing his teeth.

"There's always an excuse to dress up as Patrick Bateman."

There was a DJ at the party, apparently Minho's friend Jisung. He cranked up the music, and everyone gravitated towards the centre of the room, where most people were dancing. It was reggaeton and all the girls were rolling around and gettin down on the floor. Sohee was dancing with her boyfriend, whose hands were on her waist and whose face was close to hers, looking very pleased.

Eunji put her back to yours, glass in hand, and you danced together. As the alcohol took over your bodies, it was hard to hold back.

The beat was infectious and the energy was almost impossible to control. You danced together for three more songs until the alcohol had worn off and you desperately needed to find a toilet.

"Wait for me!" you shouted as you climbed the wooden stairs to the second floor access. It wasn't your first time in this dorm, but the drink had clouded your mind and all the doors simply looked the same.

You played a quick round of eenie, meenie, miney, mo, your finger landing on one of the many identical doors. Without hesitation, you turned the handle and pushed it open, expecting to find a bathroom. What you found instead stopped you dead in your tracks.

It wasn’t the bathroom. Not even close.

A girl was kneeling in the corner of the room, her blonde hair held by thick hands and enlarged veins. Your first impulse was to close the door, but for some odd reason you didn't. Standing there, eyes downcast and lips hanging open, was Bangchan.

You would never have believed it if you'd seen it.

The girl was working really hard, loudly moaning as she put it in her mouth. You stood there watching and thinking about what you saw. Bangchan had his dark hair covering his face, but then he lifted his head and you could see the thick veins on his neck.

Maybe the alcohol was having an effect. You tripped over yourself, making him look at you.

Your eyes went wide and you spun on your heels, running in the opposite direction.

"Oh no, oh shit."

At that moment, a girl came out of the bathroom, and you thanked God for finally finding a place where you could lock yourself in. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin prickled. Oh my god. That was too embarrassing. It wasn't something you should have seen, and even worse, it wasn't something you should have enjoyed witnessing.

After using the bathroom and washing your face with cold water, you went back into the living room and pretended that nothing had happened. If you drank enough, the sight of Bangchan groaning would quickly fade from your mind.

"You won't believe this," Eunji shouted, laughter spilling out with every word. "Some guy just stripped down to nothing but a cowboy hat and is now giving everyone his best Magic Mike impression."

Sure enough, there he was—a member of the basketball team, stark naked save for the cowboy hat perched jauntily on his head, gyrating in the middle of the dance floor like he was auditioning for Vegas.

"That's... dedication," you muttered, unable to tear your eyes away from the chaotic spectacle.

"That's fucking insane," Felix chimed in, suddenly materializing beside Hyunjin. He was dressed as a somewhat disheveled Romeo, complete with a feathered cap that looked suspiciously askew. His grin was as bright as the party lights.

"Is it?" Hyunjin asked dryly, eyeing the cowboy dancer like he was trying to calculate how much alcohol it would take to get someone to that point. "Seems on-brand for him."

"You know that guy?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hyunjin shrugged. "Not well enough to explain this."

Felix laughed, holding up a drink. "I don't know, kind of feels like art to me. Pure, unfiltered expression."

"Expression, my ass," Eunji snorted. "I give him five more minutes before campus security steps in."

Something caught your eye from across the room. Like a moth lured by a flame, your eyes found him. Bangchan was coming down the stairs with a girl in a Christina Aguilera costume. Her breasts barely tucked into her low-cut top, while he was now shirtless, wearing only an open sweatshirt over his abs.

Fucking ridiculous.

"Hyunjin!" you shouted, needing to get away from there as quickly as possible so that he wouldn't see you. You could picture the teasing or judgy looks he would give you. "Do you want to go with me to get a drink?" your voice came out sounding a bit desperate.

He was making his way through the crowd.

"The table's just over there, go get yourself," Hyunjin grumbled, but you rolled your eyes and took him by the hand.

"I'm asking you to come with me. Shut up and move."

The boy couldn't avoid it because you were pulling him through the crowd.

When you got to the table, you filled a cup with beer and drank it all in one go. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, shocked at how determined you were. The second time, you were about to put the beer straight to your lips, but your friend was quicker and took it out of your hands.

"Okay. I think you've had enough."

You looked at your friends, and saw that Bangchan was looking at you and Hyunjin. There was something unusual in his gaze, something you couldn't and didn't want to understand. But something was causing you to feel uneasy. Especially in your panties.

You noticed the strange movement because in a second he was nowhere to be found. In the crowd, you saw Bangchan coming towards you.

“Hyun. Kiss me.”

Hyunjin froze, his brow arching high enough to vanish beneath his dark fringe. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“I need you to kiss me,” you repeated, your voice steady but your eyes darting toward the crowd. “Like, now.”

His hand stalled mid-motion, the glass he’d been holding clinking softly as he set it on the table. “What’s going on with you today?” he asked, studying you like you’d just sprouted another head. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Hyunjin, seriously,” you hissed, stepping closer, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Just act. I need you to do this for me. Now. Please.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback, before his gaze narrowed slightly. “This better not be a setup for something ridiculous,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching. “But fine. If it’s that important...”

The boy shrugged. He was surprised by the situation, but he would never refuse a demand for a kiss, even if it was a fake one. Hyunjin grabbed your face and pulled you into a solid kiss. There was no tongue, and there wasn't much feeling either. There was no excitement or the usual growing heat between you. But that didn't mean your friend wasn't a good kisser.

You kept going for a few seconds, until you needed to catch your breath and pushed him away by squeezing his shoulder a little. Hyunjin raised his eyebrows and shrugged. A girl walked past you, looking surprised. One of Hyunjin's friends called out to him, and then he left.

You hadn't a clue what you were doing. The idea after executing it seemed like a disaster. Kissing your friend to throw Bangchan off sounded better in your head.

"You sure love being the center of attention, don’t you?"

The voice that followed caught you off guard, smooth and laced with confidence. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you quickly shrugged it off.

"Funny, coming from you," you shot back, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm. He couldn’t see your face, but the eye-roll in your voice was impossible to miss.

And to be honest with himself, he could imagine a bunch of other things, too.

Receiving a blowjob from a student in his room was nice, but what made him come was having you watching. All this mutual hate made him more excited. It was like a competition, and every day he got closer to scoring.

He couldn't ignore your figure as you walked by, the way your pants clung to the curves of your body. Seeing you there, watching, made him think about doing all sorts of things, but none of them involved those pants.

"Kissing my friends in front of me? Bold move." He laughed at the look of disgust on your face. “If you wanted to join in, sweetheart, you could’ve just said so." His voice dropped, low and smooth, as he leaned closer. You could feel the dampness of his plump lips on your skin.

Frustrated by the interaction, you spun around and averted his gaze.

"You’re so full of yourself, it’s gross" But it didn't matter. The more you talked, the more he enjoyed himself. "And you're a disgusting, perverted..."

"If I'm all that, then why didn't you close the door, hmm?" He shot back, his smirk widening.

You were at a loss for words, your mind scrambling to form a coherent thought. Bold didn’t even begin to describe him. Bangchan wiped his lips with an infuriating nonchalance, stepping closer until the air between you was practically charged.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerously smooth. “You wanted to be her, didn’t you?” Your eyes widened. "I know you did. Yeah. You watched 'cause you liked what you saw. You wanted it to be your lips wrapped around my cock.”

"You're..."

“Save it,” he interrupted with a cocky smirk, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t waste your breath. If you really want to find out, meet me there.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your pulse pounding in your ears. The sight of his broad shoulders and that silver chain resting against his toned abdomen only made things worse.

This was insane. Your head spun, and it wasn’t from the booze. His words, his presence, everything about him was too much—and yet, your body betrayed you.

Did you want to find out?

The whispers from theater rehearsals echoed in your mind. The girls who couldn’t stop talking about him, the things he supposedly did, the way he made them feel. Was he really that good? Was he as intoxicating as he seemed when you caught that glimpse earlier?

If none of that made sense, then why did your body tell you otherwise?

So you walked among a crowd of people. The noise of your thoughts overwhelmed the music. With each step, you found a reason to quit. Your friends were having fun, and they probably wouldn't miss you for a few minutes, right? What was wrong with you?

How could you even think about having sex with Bangchan?

Three doors were closed, but the same one was open. You closed your eyes, believing you had time to give up. But your body didn't cooperate. You had to feed the heat coursing through your body, otherwise you'd burn up — and you couldn't let that happen.

The room was dark when you pushed open the door. Your eyes scanned the darkness until you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. Bangchan's gaze conveyed surprise. It was a shot in the dark. He didn't think you would come.

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in a charged silence that seemed louder than words. The dim light made everything sharper—the way his chest rose and fell, the way his eyes darkened as they lingered on you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, indecision clawing at you. Turning on your heel, you made a move to leave, but before you could take a full step, Bangchan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, firm yet electrifying.

“This is a dumb decision.”

"But here you are." Bangchan hesitated. The sight of your soft, cherry-painted lips looked so tempting that he could think of only one thing: devouring you. "Fuck it."

He reached back and clicked the door shut, the sound echoing in the heavy silence. You noticed the way his forearm flexed but quickly looked away, catching something else in his eyes instead—something raw, something dangerous.

“So,” he murmured, stepping closer, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “You know what?”

You swallowed hard, retreating step by step until your back hit the desk, the cool surface grounding you against the heat of his presence.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely steady. Holding his gaze felt impossible, especially when every nerve in your body screamed at you to close the gap.

But you didn’t move—not yet. Even though all you wanted was to tear down the distance and let the fire between you consume everything.

Bangchan’s hand found your stomach, his thumb brushing over the bare skin with maddening precision, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a ripple of heat through your body that settled low in your core.

Before you knew it, you were perched on the edge of the table, legs parted just enough to let him step between them. His presence filled the space around you, his confidence suffocating in the most infuriating way.

He took his time, gently touching your skin with his knuckles, brushing them over your arms, until he leaned forward and placed his lips on your jaw. The tingling sensation of his lips on your skin was like taking an opiate. You felt nothing and everything at the same time.

His breath fanned your skin as he kissed the spot just below your ear, drawing a soft gasp from you. He paused, his lips trailing to your jawline, and his voice, low and rough, broke the silence. "I wished it was you. With your pretty little mouth around me. Thinking about you made me come. So fucking hard."

A sob escaped your lips. The words were painful for your sore body. His tongue crawled over your chin. Bangchan held your face with one hand, making you stare into his eyes. Naked and raw. "You like that, hmm? D’ya like knowing that I think ‘bout you?” You wanted to fight back. You didn't want to let him dominate you.

“You're fucking ridiculous.”

Bangchan’s lips curled into that infuriatingly cocky smile, the one that set your nerves on fire.

That's his girl. With a clever mouth.

“Yeah, is that so?” He sucked on your lip, pulling you to him in painstaking haste.

“Yes.” You moaned copiously. You hissed, though the conviction in your voice wavered as his hand slid up your thigh, slow and measured. His knuckles brushed the soft skin there, and the ache he left in your wake was unbearable. With his other hand, he circled your inner thigh, climbing achingly up to your cunt.

“I want you to say that again when I make you cum. Mmm, what ya say?” He murmured, his lips brushing your ear as his other hand settled firmly on your hip. A low laugh rumbled in his chest as a shaky moan slipped from yours, unbidden but impossible to hold back.

His hand inched higher, and you fought to keep your composure, though the heat pooling low in your stomach made it a losing battle.

“I fuckin' hate you.” you spat, though your breathless tone robbed it of any real venom.

“We'll see about that.”

His words were a promise, cocky and assured, and without leaving room for an answer, he devoured your mouth with devotion. Both bodies undulated against each other, desperate for friction, for warmth. Bangchan spread your thighs, pushing you backwards. It was so intense that your back was arching over, the two of you battling for control.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claim. His hands moved with purpose, gripping your thigh and pulling you closer as his body pressed into yours, the heat between you like a live wire. The table groaned beneath you as he guided you back, his palm sliding up to part your legs further, making room for him to settle between them.

Your back arched against the cool surface, the contrast of heat and cold heightening every sensation. His lips left yours only to trail down your jaw, his breath hot and uneven as it ghosted over your skin. The tension in the air was suffocating, an unspoken challenge lingering between each frantic touch.

It was a fight neither of you was willing to lose, and yet, the way his hands moved, the way his lips devoured, it was clear he wasn’t about to let you win.

Your hands reached for the sweatshirt on his broad, muscular shoulders and tossed it to the floor. The gap between kisses was long enough for you to lift your own top and rip it off eagerly. You could have sworn you heard an almost beastly growl emanating from Bangchan, something completely charged with lust.

A large, calloused hand grabbed your throat, making you choke. His finger pressed against your lip, which you licked religiously, giving him a taste of what was coming. Bangchan pressed your body until you collided with the wall and your hands clung to the rim of the table. And in due time he nibbled your tit, snaking his tongue around it, savoring the tenderness of your skin.

You bit your lip down and held back a moan. Your gut rippled like the ocean waves as the intoxicating rush grew in your belly, down your legs, and scorched your toes.

You felt his hand come close to your wet core and your whole body went on alert. Bangchan bit your nipple and looked at you only to see the girl with her lips wide open, eyes bright and flushed cheeks.

This sight could kill him.

Just as he was about to come to your lips again, a knock sounded at the door. You instinctively ducked behind him, your heart hammering in your chest "Oops, sorry man!" The boy's voice echoed through the room, and with a snap, the door slammed shut.

A rush of adrenaline surged through you—not from what was happening, but the brief panic of being caught. It was ridiculous, but the sensation gripped you harder than you’d like to admit.

"Shit, I’ll lock it."

Biting your lip at the image of the man walking to the door and then to you. His lips swollen from kissing your body, the marks of nails on his chest, his messy hair, it was a perfect match.

"You know what, I'm rethinking the whole pant thing. Maybe I'll fuck you in 'em." Before he could finish, you cupped his face in both hands, stopping him in his tracks. His eyebrow quirked in interest, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I just remembered,” you said with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “A few minutes ago, you were, well... y'know. Right there.”

You both glanced toward the corner of the room, the absurdity of the situation hitting you at the same time. And, with a shared moment of clarity, laughter bubbled out of you, the tension briefly breaking.

"Right.'" He captured your mouth. Bangchan said, that familiar cocky smirk now full force. “I can fuck you anywhere,” he kissed you again, and then you lost your breath. "the backseat of my car," Again a kiss. "Any fucking place. But we can start here."

In a daze, you clung to each other like two animals. Every second you begged for air, he devoured your mouth more and more. His nimble hands fought against your pants. He wanted to touch you, to feel you.

Growling, he added. "Lift your hips for me."

You, overtaken by lust, quickly bent down on the table so that he could unbutton your pants and pull them all the way down, past your boots, which also reached down to the other side of the bedroom.

Bangchan held the back of your knees and marveled at the sight of your bare body. It was like a damn mirage. The skimpy pink panties were nothing, showing all your dampness. There was no trace of embarrassment on your face, just an unbridled urge to be taken by him.

Absorbed to your body, Bangchan held your neck with both of his hands, this time tilting your body backwards. With his own body, he splayed your legs with his free hand. Your intimacies were bare, your body bathed in the dim light streaming through the nearby window.

He captured your mouth and ran his fingers over the cloth. He squeezed his fingertips against your clit, making your clenched teeth grind together. Feeling his hand around your nape of the neck, the lack of oxygen in your lungs and the short circuit from the friction of his hand down there was electrical.

Bangchan wriggled over the fabric in slow, painful circular motions. He was excruciatingly hard inside the sweatpants. He wanted to take off and make a mess of you, but first he wanted to relish every second and push you to the limit.

"My God." Words slipped from your lips, preaching to the divine, as you felt yourself being ravished.

Bangchan stretched the fabric and stroked the core with his fingers, wetting them without caring. How he looked at you, how he looked at your tight pussy was erotic. The noises you made when he slid his fingers through your labia and then threatened to push in two fingers at the one time. It was the sensation near death. You could feel an orgasm coming gradually, in heavy, lusty waves.

If he didn't stop teasing you, you'd come too fast.

"Hang in there, baby." He brushed a finger across your lips, sliding them into your warm, wet mouth. Everything was intensified by the endearing pet name. You got proof that the rumors were true. "Spread for me... Like that." You raised your legs and placed your feet on the table, giving him a full view of your body.

You could feel the wetness everywhere. Bangchan took two fingers in your mouth and let you suck them like a piece of candy. Without taking your eyes off him for a second, you went along with it.

"Good girl."

And with the same fingers, he delved into you. His fingers in the precise curl, in the precise place that made you cry out. And if the music hadn't been deafening, everyone at the party would have heard you moaning under his fingers.

By sucking on your lower lip, he began a unique rhythm. According to the rhythm of your body snaking around him, Chan went harder and faster. Your lips opened impulsively, flowing under his. Wide-eyed, your face froze into an ethereal feature, fogged with bliss.

You took hold of his wrist, the hand in which he was thrusting into you, and forced him to go faster. You desperately wanted - needed - to reach the body-rattling orgasm. It was already becoming impossible to hide the screams that tore from your throat. He was just very skilled at doing it and left you craving more.

“Bangchan...” A pitying look on your face made him break out into a maniacal smirk. To hear his own name coming from your mouth was like a narcotic being shot into his veins. He wanted better, he wanted you to realize what you had done to him.

Letting go of your throat, which until then had been under his grasp, Bangchan got down on his knees and dived into your pussy. You groped your hand to stop yourself from bawling. Your raw nerves were on edge and any more stimulation would make you burst. But he was relentless. With his savvy tongue, he outlined movements on your clit, leaving your moistness to rub through his lips and all over your core.

“Shit, shit, shit...” You purred. Suddenly, holding onto the dark strands of the boy in front of you, bringing your body closer, provoking more friction. Bangchan took advantage of every second, kissing and suckling your vulnerable flesh, swirling around your core and tongue teasing your insides.

You were rolling on his face. Sweat trickled down your spine and temples. Incoherent utterances came from your lips as muffled moans tore from Bangchan's deep throat. That pain was building, growing in your stomach. Your body was moving in an illogical way and Bangchan had to place his palm on your lower stomach to keep you from moving.

And that's when, with his mouth still on your cunt, he pinched your clit, making you seize up. The orgasm struck you hard, spewing electric waves throughout your body, leaving you sluggish and weak. Bangchan kept hold of your body as you fell apart, an disembodied vision.

You cried out his name as you came and he made you swallow every single moan.

“Mmm, you're so fucking hot when you cum for me.”

You sat on the edge again, spreading Chan's arm muscles. Looking down, you caught yourself wondering at the sight of his hard cock framing the edge of his pants like a carving, too beautiful to just look at.

Your hands went down to the edge of the white sweatpants he was still wearing - quite unfair, given that you were only wearing a pair of panties that were now barely fit for anything. A cocky smile hung on the man's lips. He enjoyed it with his hands on the table as you took it off, gawping at the size of it. The girth. The form. It was surreal.

Bangchan was holding back. He'd dreamt of having your hands and mouth around his cock for a very long time. And now, you were there, stroking him back and forth, in a slow, excruciating rhythm. He could let you have a taste and get on your knees to him. He'd fuck your mouth so relentlessly that you'd never have another smart-ass word for him. You'd always remember that one moment.

But he was overwhelmed by the mirage of your body and the sounds it caused in you.

“Oh, fuck.” A guttural moan broke from his lips. With his mouth open, he looked at where you were fucking him, your soft hand stroking his length. It was too much. He wasn't going to last. “I need you to stop.”

“Why?”

Chan squeezed your thighs together, hating himself for not feeling your touch where he needed it most.

“As much as I want you on your knees for me, I really need to fuck you.”

You chewed your lip, sensing the heat coming back to your face and your core. "Save that pretty little mouth for next time. Yeah?"

Next time. The phrase lingered in your head, leaving you with a queasy feeling in your gut.

With one hand, he spread your legs and held your leg up high enough for him to have the reach he needed to make you come a second time. That was his trick. He knew what he was doing too well, and you loathed him for it.

“Chan...” You whimpered. He grunted and brought your bodies together. He held the shaft of his own cock and stroked it for a few seconds before brushing the tip against your slit. You gasped for air at the feeling. "Please. Chan." You pleaded, searching his eyes. It was too much of a torture and you wouldn't be able to bear it if he wasn't fast.

“Fuck, don't do it like that...” He whined, still thrusting into your hole with his own cock. “Fucking Christ.” Your wetness made him slide between the clit and the slit. Your eyes went wide, collapsing. Meanwhile, Chan was glued to the point where you connected.

Slowly, he slipped in. A moan in unison reverberated almost in praise.

He knew it wouldn't last long. Being deep inside you was driving him insane. You were making him slip, making the movements clumsy but so delicious. Bangchan pressed down on your calf, pinning it to his chest. You leaned over, holding onto his shoulder. The sight was like a fucking movie scene.

You entwined as one.

Bangchan took his time to lengthen his movements, first because he could feel every inch of your pussy swallow him up. It was so fucking good. He nibbled his lip tightly, gliding in a little more, causing you to whimper.

“Faster.” Pleas burst from your ruined lips.

“Fuuuuck.” Bangchan upped the pace, a frantic and luscious back and forth. “You're fuckin' surreal.”

He could have been saying anything, but your brain was thawing, your body morphing. Being stuffed until his balls hit your skin was opulent. Their bodies met halfway, each moving as fast as possible to get themselves there. Bangchan had to hold onto the table to avoid a hole in the wall. The furniture kept bouncing in line with your bodies.

The rapturous feeling fills you and takes you to the edge. What was left of the room was a mess of panting and skin on skin. Your hips rode the width of him. He was falling to pieces little by little, feeling his body combust.

From the way his veins seemed more prominent and thicker, his neck stiff, his sweat accentuating his smooth skin, you could tell. You rocked your body vigorously back and forth, giving him deep, dry thrusts. Bangchan then reached a point set aside to take you to heaven.

When the groans dared escape your lips, he devoured them, one by one, eating up the pleas, his name coming out of your mouth like a holy prayer that only he would hear. That was enough time for your body to succumb to the fierce orgasm and for Bangchan to pull out, thrusting with his own hand and letting go on your sweat-damp stomach.

You were still hanging on to his shoulder, trying to find your feet. Both panting and with your eyes closed, you seemed to recover some consciousness. His eyes were still clouded with desire, in a hue you had never yet witnessed.

“Well,” you said between chuckles. “I think you've just proved your point.”

Bangchan laughed and then helped you up from the desk. Your clothes were scattered around the room, your boots under a stranger's bed. You cleaned up and dressed. Make-up was intact, but your hair was a tangled mess. He watched from the corner of his eye as he put on his own underwear.

After a brief fix in the mirror, you turned around a little awkwardly, as if he hadn't just given you the best sex of your entire life.

“So, I'm going out first... Just in case... You know, anyone sees me.”

In fairness, he was quite taken aback. He hadn’t expected what had just happened to mean anything to you, but there was a part of him—just a sliver—that hoped it might shift your perspective. The realization stung his pride, but he masked it, keeping the quiet frustration buried deep inside.

"Yeah. Whatever."

You shot him a glance, your expression unreadable. "All right. Well, I guess... that’s it. I’ll see you around."

Your smile was soft, but there was an undertone of something more—a knot in your chest that wouldn’t let go. He nodded, his face as impassive as ever, his eyes giving nothing away.

With a soft exhale, you closed the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes squeezed shut.

What the fuck had you just done?

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