#go-go dancer.. midnight answer

[antxnous]

East . that’s it I fear

[glittergroovy]

Go Go Dancer - Lana Del Rey

[linkzac]

doing important research in class rn (looking at lana wiki pages about unreleased songs)

[pixiefelixie]

・❥・(ot8 headcannons) THE GIRLFRIEND EFFECT

summary: in which skz start to abandon their old habits after getting a girlfriend, and their fellow members can only watch in stunned horror as love turns these men soft. the girlfriend effect is real. nobody is safe. cw: profanity, just endless fluff and crack, use of she/her pronouns, pls take the humor with a grain of salt <3

chan - the insomniac king was dethroned

bang chan does not sleep. everyone knows that. 

he goes to bed into the next day—3am, 4am, sometimes not at all—and wakes up looking like he’s been in an emotionally toxic relationship with his pillow. it’s a thing. a legend, even. the morning game among the members is always:

“what time do you think chan slept last night?” “over or under 3am?”

so when he walks into morning dance practice looking… rested?

eyes clear. hoodie on straight. skin dewy. shoulders not hunched like a man carrying the weight of three unfinished tracks.

it’s suspicious.

no one’s said it yet, but the members are all thinking the same thing

seungmin narrows his eyes like he’s solving a mystery. then, slowly, he raises a finger and points directly at chan.

“what time,” he begins, voice slow and ominous, “did you sleep last night?”

it’s the sacred question. normally used to roast him. normally answered with some sleep-deprived groan and a “i don’t know, man.” but this time, it comes out… almost reverent. because the idea of bang chan getting a full night’s sleep is no longer a joke—it’s truth.

chan blinks. like he didn’t expect anyone to ask.

“uh…” he rubs the back of his neck, looking oddly sheepish. “y/n was tired. we kinda crashed around midnight.”

midnight.

midnight.

you could hear a pin drop on the dance floor.

jeongin just stares. mouth slightly open. brain buffering.

“you slept... at midnight?” he echoes.

chan shrugs, trying to play it off—but he can’t hide the way his lips twitch like he’s just a little too proud. “yeah, she knocked out so i didn’t want to wake her.”

“s-so you just… fell asleep? did she drug you or something?”

chan just laughs. “nah, i just like being next to her. it’s… easy to fall asleep.”

jeongin looks like he’s witnessing a crime scene. or maybe a miracle. it’s hard to tell.

“he’s broken,” he whispers, still staring. “she’s broken him.”

seungmin doesn’t even blink. he crosses his arms and says, deadpan, “no. she’s fixed him.”

and that day, for the first time in forever, chan doesn’t yawn once.

minho - “don’t touch my ass.”

minho is many things. dancer. cat dad. human embodiment of strange.

but above all?

he’s a butt hunter.

he will grope, slap, poke, and outright ambush the butts of any member foolish enough to turn their back on him. it's not even weird anymore—it's tradition. part of the culture. a stray kids rite of passage.

so when several days go by with no butt activity? suspicion brews.

jisung is the first to notice. obviously. he passes minho in the hallway and flinches out of habit, or trauma—but nothing. not even a threatening twitch.

it’s unsettling. so unsettling, in fact, that jisung decides to take matters into his own hands.

literally.

the next day, backstage at inkigayo, jisung makes his move.

minho’s facing the mirror, fixing his hair. perfect. jisung creeps up behind him like he’s in a nature documentary.

and then—pat. a clean, respectful grab. 

he waits. silence.

minho blinks at his reflection, then turns around slowly. calmly.

then: “don’t touch my ass.”

jisung chokes. “what?”

minho just stares at him. blank. serious. 

“don’t touch my ass,” he repeats, tone calm but final—like he’s scolding a cat for scratching the couch again.

“are you mad at me? jisung sputters. 

that finally gets minho’s full attention. he sighs, and looks up at jisung like he’s explaining something very simple to a very dumb squirrel.

“no. i’m not mad at you,” he says, voice calm. “it’s not about you.”

jisung blinks, confused and still braced for impact. “then what is it?”

minho shrugs, like it’s obvious. “it’s y/n.”

there’s a pause as jisung tries to keep up.

minho sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck. “like… i wouldn’t love it if other people were grabbing my partner’s ass all the time, even as a joke, you know? and yeah, it’s always been just us messing around, but still. she’s my girlfriend. i wanna be consistent.”

jisung stares. “so… you’re retiring from ass play.”

minho gives him a flat look. “don’t call it that.”

jisung holds up both hands, backing off. “okay, okay. sorry. just—wow. that’s actually kind of sweet. and disturbingly mature.”

“you had a good run. but i’m taken now. full package. including the rear.”

jisung almost falls to his knees.

“she’s corrupted you.”

changbin - “i hope you lose your pump.”

changbin is reliable.

rain or shine, comeback or chaos, he goes to the gym.

it’s not a suggestion. it’s not a routine. it’s a spiritual contract with his biceps. if he skips a day, he complains that he can “feel himself shrinking.” if his members skip leg day, he offers to carry them—and their guilt.

so when he’s not at the gym by 10am, it’s weird. when he’s not at the gym by noon? alarming. and when he’s not at the gym at all?

something is deeply wrong.

minho’s the first to text:

you alive or did you get hit by car 

no reply.

by 2pm, some have migrated to the dorms to check on him in person. they knock. no answer. chan tries the handle—unlocked.

and there he is.

changbin. on the couch. blanket over his legs. one arm around you, the other lazily flipping through netflix. a half-eaten bowl of popcorn on his lap.

he looks up. blinks.

“oh, hey,” he mumbles, clearly still half-asleep. “didn’t hear you come in.”

silence.

you offer a small wave from behind the couch. “hi.”

minho squints. 

“where were you?” chan asks, tone sharp like an accusation.

changbin blinks. “sorry?”

“the gym,” minho says, gesturing wildly. 

changbin furrows his brows. “i don’t remember telling you i was going.”

“you never have to tell us,” chan cuts in, clearly distressed. “you always go. we stopped asking you ages ago.”

“you’re the one who made a whole speech about how ‘discipline is showing up even when you don’t feel like it.’” minho scoffs.

you shift under the blanket slightly, sitting up a bit straighter, and speaking up for the first time since the interrogation began.

“i called him over,” you say simply, voice soft but teasing. “sorry none of you have girls asking to spend time with you.”

minho scoffs. 

changbin chuckles beside you, hand up for a high-five. you slap it, grab another handful of popcorn, and lean back with a smile.

chan shakes his head, but his lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile. “can’t even be mad. you look happy.”

“you’ve changed,” minho says solemnly, but really, he’s proud. “i hope you lose your pump.”

changbin grins. “you’re just jealous.”

they probably are.

hyunjin - “she likes me when i'm low-effort.”

hyunjin doesn’t just get ready. he curates.

every outfit is a look. every look has a theme. necklaces. earrings. scarves. a gentle waft of expensive perfume that smells like whispered poetry.

so when he walks out of his room wearing—

sweatpants. a plain white t-shirt. no versace. no rings. no 12-step skincare glow. just lip balm.

his roommate, changbin, nearly drops his protein shake.

“hold still.” he steps in front of the door, arms spread like he’s blocking a crime scene. “are you really going out like that?”

hyunjin blinks. looks down at himself like he forgot what he put on. then shrugs. “yeah. brunch.”

“with who, your bed?”

“y/n.”

silence.

“you’re going out with your girlfriend, hyunjin.” he says slowly, 

hyunjin tilts his head. “she likes me just fine this way.”

changbin gestures wildly. “you’re wearing sweatpants.”

hyunjin shrugs again, utterly unbothered. “they're clean.”

“and the plain white tee?”

“she said i look cute when i’m low-effort.”

changbin groans like he’s being personally attacked. “do you know how hard i tried to look good the last time i saw a girl? i changed outfits four times and still ended up sweating through my shirt.”

hyunjin just smirks, grabbing his phone off the counter before opening the door. “maybe you should’ve tried less.” he adds casually, before stepping out. “bye.”

and all changbin can do is stand there, shaking his head, whispering.

“she’s changed him.” 

han - his ego took a sick day

jisung milks compliments. he churns them into butter. whips them into frosting. lives off the validation like it’s a multivitamin.

in interviews, when asked who's the funniest? “obviously me.”

best-looking? “me, but hyunjin’s close.”

most talented? “it’s me. i wrote this question.”

you’re at the jyp cafeteria, trays clinking, the hum of trainees and staff in the background as you sit shoulder to shoulder with jisung at a corner table, while hyunjin and felix are across from you.

jisung’s rambling about something—probably a dream, possibly a conspiracy—chopsticks waving as he talks through a mouthful of rice. that’s when you notice it.

a tiny scrap of seaweed. clinging to the edge of his lip.

you lean in just a bit, tapping the side of your own mouth. “right there.”

he pauses, tongue darting out instinctively to swipe the spot along with a flick of his eyes up at you like, did i get it?

and somehow… it’s stupidly attractive.

and it hits you—hard and fast and stupid:

“you’re so handsome,” you murmur.

hyunjin and felix immediately stop eating.

the air stills.

felix sets down his spoon with a slow, almost reverent motion.

hyunjin glances at felix. then at you. then at jisung. they both brace for it.

this is the moment where his ego explodes.

he’s about to say something cocky. something ridiculous like "thank you for the unnecessary comment—everyone already knows that."

but none of that happens.

instead?

jisung freezes.

his chopsticks stop mid-air. his lips part slightly, like the words never formed.

felix and hyunjin exchange a slow, stunned glance across the table, like they’re witnessing something rare and possibly mythical.

jisung clears his throat. forces a tiny smile. not his usual smug grin—something smaller. bashful.

you tilt your head, soft and sincere as you repeat. “you’re really handsome.”

he ducks his head slightly, mumbling, “stop,” but there’s no bite in it.

you grin.

that’s when hyunjin leans forward dramatically, hand cupping his mouth. “i didn’t know you were capable of being humble.”

jisung groans, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth just to avoid talking. “shut up.”

hyunjin smirks. “you’re blushing.”

“i am not.”

felix points. “then why are your ears the color of gochujang?”

jisung throws him a look, cheeks puffed full of rice like a chipmunk. he chews dramatically, swallows, and finally mutters—

“god forbid i get a little flustered when my girlfriend compliments me.”

hyunjin groans dramatically, flopping back in his chair. “she softened him. he’s fully simmered.”

felix sighs into his hands. “remember when he used to call himself ‘sex on legs’ and say we were lucky to know him?”

jisung shovels another spoonful of rice into his mouth. “still true,” he mumbles.

he then looks at you—blushing, with a small smile.

felix - "i’m keeping her on her toes.”

felix is a certified cuddle bug.

he initiates first, always. doesn’t matter the time, the place, or the number of witnesses. if you're standing still for more than five seconds? he’s already wrapped around you like a weighted blanket if it had freckles.

he hugs everyone. back hugs. side hugs. full-body collapse hugs. the man radiates affection like it’s photosynthesis—he needs it to live, and he makes sure everyone else gets a dose too.

but ever since he started dating you…you started playing this little game. felix has decided to become your greatest enemy.

you step into the recording studio with a bright smile, holding iced americanos.

only felix, chan, and jisung today. chan looks up from the mixing board, immediately grinning. “oh, legend. thank you.”

jisung’s in the booth, mid-bar, rapping like his life depends on it.

you walk over to felix, who’s perched on the couch, headphones around his neck, scribbling notes in a lyric sheet. you set the tray of drinks down on the little table beside him, lean down, and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

then, naturally, you slide your arms around him in a casual hug.

he doesn’t move.

no returning squeeze. no snuggle into your shoulder. no dramatic gasp and full koala-mode cling. just him—smiling, smug.

smiling, but not hugging back.

you pull back just enough to pout. “felix. not this again.”

chan glances up from his monitor, brows raised. “what are you doing?”

felix turns to him. “she always expects the hugs. i’m trying to keep her on her toes.”

you groan. “we live for the hugs, felix. there are rules.”

“i know.” he winks. “that’s why i break them.”

chan leans back in his chair, eyes wide like he’s seeing felix for the first time. “you’ve… developed self-control.”

you sigh dramatically, still half in his lap. “unfortunately.”

felix scoffs, poking your side. “don’t act like you’re some poor victim. you dodge me all the time!”

you narrow your eyes. “okay, fine. if you wanna play that game… how about neither of us do anything?”

felix leans back like he’s genuinely considering it. “alright. okay. deal.”

a beat passes. one whole second.

then—

he immediately lunges forward, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. “too late.”

you squeal as he hugs you tight and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, smug and unrepentant.

“felix!” you gasp, laughing. “you lasted one second!”

he grins into your shoulder. “you looked too cute being all serious.”

chan shakes his head from across the room, muttering, “so much for self-control.”

felix shrugs, arms still locked around you. “self-control’s overrated.”

you could only change him so much.

seungmin - no one knows where the savage went

seungmin has the softest little voice. polite. gentle. that kind of light, effortless tone that sounds like it should be used to offer you tea or read bedtime stories. 

but then he opens his mouth and says something like,

“you look like someone who peaked in high school,” with the same tone you'd use to say, have a nice day.

and that’s the seungmin everyone knows—sharp-tongued, savage, and weirdly charming about it. naturally, everyone assumes he’d be the same with a partner. 

you’re sitting with felix and changbin in the practice room when seungmin walks in, sipping his iced tea. he plops down next to you and greets the group with his usual drawl.

as you start unwrapping a protein bar, he eyes it casually and goes, “is that your second one today?”

you nod with a muffled “mhm,” mid-bite.

across from you, changbin freezes—brows raised, lips already curling like he’s bracing for the roast. he’s heard this setup before. he knows seungmin’s usual follow-up. normally, it’s a deadpan jab about how someone eats like a vacuum, or a not-so-subtle fat joke about needing a second lunch just to function. he’s ready.

but instead?

seungmin leans his head slightly toward you, eyes soft. “you like those ones, right? i’ll grab you a couple more next time i’m at the store.”

you blink at him, surprised—but smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “really?”

he nods, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. then reaches over, gives your knee a light pat.

changbin looks offended. “okay, how come you never say stuff like that to me? i’m the one who put her on those protein bars.”

seungmin doesn’t even look up.

“because when you eat, it sounds like a construction site.”

felix loses it, nearly spilling his drink as he doubles over laughing.

changbin gapes, pointing at seungmin. “i chew normally!”

seungmin finally looks up, deadpan. “you breathe heavy before opening a snack.”

you’re gaping at seungmin, caught between shock and laughter. “seungmin.”

he finally cracks—a tiny, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he turns toward you. he opens his mouth just slightly, so, huffing a laugh, you lift the protein bar and hold it up to his mouth.

seungmin bites down on the protein bar, eyes locked on yours—soft, a little smug, but mostly just… fond. like the insult he threw five seconds ago didn’t exist. like you’re the only thing in the room.

felix watches the entire thing unfold from the corner of the couch, straw halfway to his mouth, forgotten.

“somehow,” he mutters to changbin, stunned. “she’s tamed him.”

jeongin - "she's normal"

jeongin is the maknae 💜. and he loves being the maknae.

gets away with things. never has to go first. everyone looks out for him.

but the second one of his members tries to baby him? it’s war.

if hyunjin tries to feed him a spoonful—he glares like he’s been betrayed. if anyone calls him “innie baby”? he files for emotional damages.

he secretly loves the attention, obviously. but he’ll never admit it. not to their faces. not in this lifetime.

so when he walks off stage after the main performance, sweat-damp and glowing, and heads backstage for a breather before the encore, it’s a complete shock when jeongin lets you be touchy. lets you baby him. cause they’ve all tried and failed.

“you did so well, baby,” you say, all soft and proud, hands reaching up to fix the little flyaways at his temple.

even just the pet name “baby” hits the room like a mic drop.

hyunjin physically recoils. 

jeongin just looks at you—shy smile pulling at the corner of his lips—and quietly asks, “you think so?”

you nod immediately. “i know so. you looked amazing out there.”

he blushes, eyes dropping, but he doesn’t pull away. if anything, he leans in a little—like your presence is the calm after the storm.

you cup his cheeks briefly, thumbs brushing just under his eyes. “i’m so proud of you, innie.”

another pet name. another shockwave.

this time, hyunjin can’t help himself. he dramatically stumbles backward like he’s been shot. so of course hyunjin takes it as a challenge.

on his way past, he reaches out and ruffles jeongin’s hair exactly the way he knows jeongin hates—fingers scratchy, deliberately messing it up.

“great job, baby,” hyunjin mocks in a high-pitched voice, grinning.

jeongin flinches immediately.

you laugh, covering your mouth as you watch the chaos unfold.

but hyunjin’s already on a mission.

he swoops in again—arms outstretched for a dramatic hug, lips puckered exaggeratedly as he leans in with a loud, “come here, my innie baby—”

jeongin panics, pushing at his chest with both hands. “get off me!”

hyunjin stumbles back, hand on his heart like he’s been betrayed. “come on! what is this? what does she have that i don’t?”

jeongin doesn’t even hesitate.

“she’s normal,” he deadpans, fixing his hair.

hyunjin staggers like the words physically struck him, hand still pressed to his chest in mock pain.

but jeongin’s already turned back to you—his expression softening, that tiny amused smile curling at his lips. you smile back just as sweetly, eyes crinkling, and he swears his heart does a little somersault.

hyunjin stares, genuinely stunned now, voice low and almost reverent.

“i’m… envious,” he mutters. “you’ve surely done something to him.”

author's note: what if skz did something totally out of character and their members lost their minds over it? i love a man completely changing his personality for a woman. sue me. anyways, thank you for reading this. i really hope you enjoyed it! engagement is appreciated, and feel free to leave some feedback 🫶

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Azriel x reader

Word count: +3400

Warnings: none (?)

Summary: When love becomes a painful burden and you can't stand it anymore, you decide to turn it into hate, avoiding its source at any cost. However, Azriel has enough and seeks you out.

When I wrote it in my head (late at night of course), it was perfect. But I forgot the exact wording😮‍💨 Now I'm not so sure about this. Also I bit changed the intended end to cut down the word count

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it

Despite my resolve to not to look in that direction, my eyes darted to the dance floor again and again, pulled by power stronger than my will. Pain sharp like dagger carved deep into my heart as I watched Azriel dancing with some female whom he just met at bar. Their bodies seemed to be glued together as their hips swayed in the rhythm of the music, even their foreheads were touching. Female's arms wrapped around his strong shoulders and neck, sliding down and back up his biceps and chest only to once again return back to their start point, holding him close. Pulling him closer. He didn't seem to mind it though as his own hands travelled all over her body, squeezing soft flesh wrapped in tight mini-dress at times.

I felt bile rising in my throat and turned back to my drink, wishing it was something stronger than just mojito—something that would burn not only my throat, but also my heart with all the traitorous feelings. I wished I had never made that mistake and fallen in love with him. Things would be much easier.

We used to be friends, really close friends. However, ever since I realized I felt something more for him, my feelings kept deepening with every passing day to the point it physically hurt to even look at him. He didn't seem to feel the same way though, not noticing anything, and I was too scared of refusal and never confessed. After just few months I was so agonized that I couldn't even step out of my room without bursting into tears and that's when I decided to rather hate him than to suffer like that.

I started ignoring him, avoiding him at any cost, twisting everything into anger. I went so far as not even answering him when he directly spoke to me. It still hurt, but it was more manageable kind of pain than what I felt before. This was how I had lived for the last two years, working hard to build the wall of the hatred around my heart brick after brick, yet I had a long journey ahead of me.

I threw the straw on the table and knocked back half of my drink, trying to think about anything except of what was happening to my left. I was so focused that I noticed Cassian only when he tapped his glass to mine.

"What are we drinking to?"

"To fucked up life."

Cassian's guttural laughter was so loud that it even overbeat the pulsing bass of the music.

"To fucked up life then," he toasted and got his drink down in one gulp. He was in his element, beaming with excitement.

Rita's was full of all kinds of faeries as usual, the dance floor pulsed with life, bodies swaying, alcohol flowing. After the warm-up drinks, our group fell apart — some were at bar, some were dancing and some disappeared to who-knows-where. Cassian was the first one to mingle between the dancers. It was almost midnight, yet this was the very first time he stopped for a while. Well, stopped.. His body was somehow managing to keep moving along the music even while he was sitting.

He reached over the table, caressing my cheek, his expression softened. "You need to learn how to let go, doll."

"It's easier said than done," I sighed and straightened up to get away from his reach. I used to be quite touch starved person, enjoying every contact with persons dear to me, but lately I could hardly stand anyone in my close proximity.

His eyes narrowed at me for a second, but he said nothing and drumming fingers on the table turned to the dance floor. He bit on his bottom lip. Devilish smile spread on his face and he turned back to me.

"Then I'll help you."

"Help me with what exactly?" I frowned, already having bad feeling.

"To let go. Come!" He raised a brow, jerking his head toward that maze of bodies. "Come," he repeated, offering me his big hand when I didn't react.

Out of the corner of my eye, I gazed at the full dance floor. "No, never," I grimaced. "I'd rather die than to do that."

"Come! I promise you will have fun."

"I can't dance." All my friends knew that, including Cassian. I wasn't willing to dance even where nobody could see. That kind of activity simply wasn't up to my liking nor ability.

"I'll teach you."

"No."

"I'm not accepting no as an answer this time," he grinned, rounded the table and gripped both of my hands, pulling me with him. He was too strong. I followed him involuntarily, squeezing in between dancing bodies. He took me to the back where weren't so many faeries and we didn't have to jostle with others. Only then he let go of my hands. I immediately crossed them on my chest, feeling awkward.

"Relax," he pulled me closer, his hands on the small of my back. I pulled my lips into thin line, frowning. I didn't like this at all. "Just feel. Let the music lead you."

"The music leads me back to the table," I grunted to which he laughed.

"Just bit move that ass of yours. Like this." He gripped my hips, pulling on and pushing them to demonstrate the movement he wanted me to do.

"Geez, you are so stiff," he was laughing his ass off. The small amount of alcohol I drank finally kicked in. There was nothing funny on this, yet I couldn't help myself and giggled.

"That's it," he praised me when I did as he instructed. "Just like that."

When I got used to the motion, he let go of my hips and took a step back to have a better view. "And now add legs." He demonstrated several simple moves and I tried to mirror them. I felt like idiot.

"You are doing great. Don't stop." He again stepped closer and took me by waist. We danced together for a while, Cassian's mouth never closing — showering me with praise, stupid jokes and stories — and I really had fun just as he'd promised.

"That hardly can be called dance. Let me show you how to do it," a deep voice spoke somewhere behind me and shiver ran down my spine. My heart flipped at that sound and smile froze on my face. I knew that voice too well.

"As if you could dance any better," Cassian snorted, but he started retreating. I desperately grabbed fabric of sleeves on his forearms, wordlessly pleading with him to stay.

"Just have fun, doll," he shrugged and turned away, immediately finding another dance partner. I stared after him in disbelief, my back still to the newcomer. I felt him move, slowly circling me and I swallowed hard. I turned to the opposite side, determined to head back to our table, suddenly too thirsty.

Scarred hand grabbed my elbow, yanking me back and I was met with his broad chest. I didn't dare to look up.

"Not so fast, Y/N," Azriel mumbled and I wondered how it was possible that I heard him so clearly over the loud music.

"I don't dance," I retorted, pulling away. I didn't get far though, his strong arms keeping me at the place.

"I just saw you with Cassian. Just one dance. I'm not asking for too much."

No matter how desperately I searched for good reason to decline, any reason honestly, I found none. "Fine," I grunted at last.

For a while we danced and I moved as Cassian showed me, but I felt so uncomfortable.

"Try it like this," Azriel said, his hands moving to my hips.

"Don't touch me," I barked at him, my mind flooded with imagines of him touching that female not so long ago. "I don't even want to think about where your hands were before."

His body stiffened as if I slapped him and he fell out of rhythm. "I can assure you that I washed my hands properly."

He sounded hurt and I felt pang of pain in my chest. I realized the ambiguity of my own words. And because this was Azriel, he probably thought I meant his work which was quite sensitive topic for him. He didn't torture people because he enjoyed it, but because he had to—to protect this court, to protect his family.

Ignore it! I ordered myself, clenching teeth.

It took him a moment to recover. Just as we began dancing again, he keeping hands at his sides, the song ended, immediately followed by much slower one. A lot of faeries around left the dance floor. I took it as my call and followed the suit.

"Wait!" Azriel grabbed both of my hands. "We haven't even danced yet."

"But-," I stuttered.

"One song. Please."

It was that damn word please. He hardly ever used that word. He was always polite and perfect gentleman and everything, but it seemed he didn't have this word in his vocabulary. I could count on fingers of one hand how many times I heard him to say it in almost two centuries we knew each other.

"Just one song then."

"Yeah, just one," he agreed. His hands reached for my waist. "Can I?"

I just nodded, still feeling bad for unintentionally hurting him like that. He hesitated.

"You should put your hands here," he guided them to his shoulders, but I immediately let them fall to his biceps. I didn't want to hold on to him like that bitch. I inhaled sharply, surprised by the sudden strong wave of jealousy.

Hate. You aren't jealous. You hate him, I had to remind myself.

"That's also fine," he sighed, snapping me out of my spiralling thoughts. "Now you need to come a bit closer."

He gently pulled me to him. I made sure there was a wall of air between us, already sensing where he was heading. Unfortunately, I was so occupied by keeping him as far from me as possible that I didn't notice drunken faerie passing by. She dangerously swayed, unstable on her own feet, and shoved me from behind. Clumsy idiot as I was, I lost balance and once again ended up pressed to Azriel's chest. He was fast, his arms immediately wrapped around me, not letting me step away. Now our bodies were touching.. everywhere — hard parts pressing into soft ones.

I felt heat climbing up my neck, my ears already burning.

"Dance partners usually look each other in the eye," he muttered, amused. He had some guts to tease me.

My head snapped up in rush of disbelief and rage, my eyes met with honeyed hazel ones. Those warm orbs completely captivated me, imprisoned me in their depths and I couldn't look away anymore. All my thoughts vanished at once.

It was long since I properly looked at him, let alone so close up. He hadn't changed much. If anything, he was even more handsome than before.

Idiot! Stop thinking such shit! He isn't handsome. He's disgusting. Not so long ago he was touching some random female and now he's here, touching you with the same hands. He's promiscuous pig. Absolutely repulsive.

My chest heaved as I was fighting with myself, heart against mind. My heart pounded so hard it had an echo.

Wait! What a nonsense! Heart can't have echo, can it?

Just then I realized it wasn't some echo but a beat of another heart. It was Azriel's heart that hammered just as fast as mine and so strongly that I felt it through our connected bodies. And if I felt his, then he had to feel mine as well. At that thought panic started to creep up on me.

Azriel leaned down, so slowly. His warm breath fanned my face, our noses touching.

The song ended replaced by another and dance floor filled again. Azriel seemed to be too occupied and didn't even notice it, but I did. I shoved him away with all my strength.

He didn't expect it and wavered, his grip on me loosened. I jerked from his arms, recoiling. He reached for me.

"Y/N, wait.. Just one more-"

"No more dancing," I said, my voice so cold that I startled even myself. "You wanted one song and you got one. I'm done here."

I didn't wait for his reaction and showed him my back. I marched over to our table, emptied my glass in one go and even one shot that was left there. The alcohol burnt its way down my throat and I grimaced. I grabbed my things and without looking back or leaving a message to others, I left.

I stomped down the snowy road, hardly noticing the slippery ice under soles of my boots. Only once I got all the way down to the Sidra, I paused on one of the bridges, letting out an angry sigh. I drew the thick cloak closer, feeling the chill of winter night, and looked up at sky full of stars, my warm breath creating quickly disappearing puffs of steam. I was on verge of tears, angry, hurt and confused. What was that even about?

"Y/N, are you all right?"

Not again. I wanted to flee away, but his big hand blocked my way.

"Stop already running away from me!"

"Leave me alone!"

In the attempt to get away, I lost my footing on slippery stones. I would fall down into deadly cold waters if it wasn't for his strong arms that kept me upright.

"Please." There was that word again, this time even more desperate than the one before. "I can't do this anymore. Please, tell me what I've done that it made you this mad. I will apologise as many times as you wish. I'm willing to do anything to gain your forgiveness."

"I thought that when I leave you be, your anger will ease and you will eventually tell me what happened, but it's already so long and it's getting worse and worse," he continued when I just stood there, gazing down into dark waters of Sidra.

How was I supposed to tell him that he did nothing? That I was just stupidly in love with him and that I couldn't deal with my own feelings anymore? I couldn't possibly tell him that. So I was silent while cold tears rolled down my cheeks.

"I'm so desperate that I even tried to provoke you to no avail. I don't know what else to do to mend our relationship back to what it used to be. And I miss you.. so much. So please, tell me what happened, so I never again repeat the same mistakes."

He stepped closer, hugging me from behind. "Please." When he breathed out near my ear, shiver ran down my spine and my eyes closed. All strength, all fight left me and my shoulders slumped down. Azriel gently turned me around, so now I faced him. His warm hands cupped my wet and cold cheeks, his thumbs wiping tears away.

"Speak to me otherwise I-.." His voice was low, dangerously low.

"You what?" I whispered the words into silent night, needing to hear the answer.

"I.." Suddenly his face was so close that it was the only thing I saw, his breath hot on my face. My head, heart, lungs, whole my body shut down. I was just standing there, gaping, hypnotized by his sad eyes.

He waited until I inhaled and then his lips sealed over mine, his eyes holding my gaze. The kiss was slow, careful, hesitant.

I was stunned, my eyes the size of full moon above us. As the new sensation settled in, a firework boomed in my chest and I.. moaned.

He made a sound back in his throat that vibrated through whole his chest. Shutting his eyes closed, he unleashed, deepening the kiss. His lips, hard like stone and so soft at the same time, hungrily danced over mine, his tongue gently pushed into my mouth, looting and exploring.

Azriel tasted like an old whiskey Rhys poured me once from his precious collection. The rich spiced and woody taste was mixed with something sweet and delicious and I moaned again as I realised I tasted strawberries on his lips. My knees buckled and I clasped hands around his neck, my fingers tangling with strands of silky dark hair. He swallowed my moan and holding me upright, he pulled me even closer — as if it was possible — his fingers digging into my flesh.

His enormous wings wrapped around me, cutting off the rest of the world, wall of shadows protecting us from any prying eyes.

We kissed and kissed until my lungs began to burn with need for air. Yet I held on as long as I could, wanting this moment to last forever and only when I felt like I was going to faint, I slightly pushed against his shoulders. Reluctantly, his mouth released mine, but stayed close enough that I felt its every move. Both of us staggered weakly and he chuckled.

"Gods," he muttered under the breath, heaving heavily. "You taste better than I've imagined. I wanted to do this for so long."

I was still too dazed to think straight. I just knew that I was happy, my heart hammering into the ribcage so wildly as if it was trying to break through it. His lips travelled all over my face, leaving dozens of small pecks behind. As he calmed down, he hid his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, still holding me in an iron grip.

"Why are you angry with me?" His voice was muffled by fur of my cloak. Under my cheek pressed to his shoulder, I felt his pulse, strong and fast, just like mine. I inhaled his rich scent of early morning mist in the snowy mountains.

"I'm not angry, not really." My face burned with shame. I sounded pathetic even to myself, somehow defeated. My traitorous heart wanted to believe that this was real and that it would last, while my mind was screaming that it was only a short-lived dream.

He was silent for a while, most likely putting together pieces of a puzzle. Maybe it was my salvation that he was a spymaster with a brilliant mind. I didn't have to sink to the very bottom to voice aloud just how lame and stupid I was, saving me from the most shameful moments.

"Never - do you hear me? Never do that again. There's no need for such..." I thought it impossible yet his grip grew even firmer. He sighed heavily, pushing words through clenched teeth. "-ve you."

He muttered something, but I heard only the last part of it. What did he say? No matter what I filled in, nothing made a sense.

"What?" I whimpered, hardly holding my tears back.

Azriel inhaled deeply. "-ve you."

"I.. don't understand."

He straightened up, looking into my eyes, his face deep shade of crimson.

"I said, I love you." His voice was firm, but his wings around us trembled slightly, giving out just how nervous he was.

My eyes widened in disbelief. I certainly misheard. "Eh?"

"As you heard," he looked away shyly, his hands slowly falling down, releasing me. "I started to feel it shortly after we met, but it took me too long to recognize the feeling for what it is. I was full of myself, I should have noticed your pain much sooner. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

His words tore down the dam and the tears began freely flowing down my cheeks in streams. Years of the pain and suffering for nothing.

"You are really the worst. I hate you," I sobbed.

Azriel stiffened and then chuckled when I leaned in, hiding face on his chest. "Am I? You owe me chocolate for at least last two years. And that is not all. I believe you owe me one more thing."

"What do you mean?"

He licked his lips and biting on the bottom one, he slowly pulled me into another embrace. "When someone-.. No. When I confessed to you, you were supposed to answer something like 'I love you, too', don't you think?"

I hesitantly wrapped my arms around his waist and still sobbing retorted, "as if I could say such thing so easily."

His smile only grew. "Then I have to coax it out of you," he cooed and captured my lips in another sweet kiss and another and he kept kissing me until my heart healed, mending all the wounds of the past years.

[risingoftime]

TWO STEP TRAP | SMOKE STACK TWINS X F!READER | TEASER

You are one of the best dancers at the Midnight Blues joint in Chicago; it was only a matter of time before you encountered the Smoke Stack Twins. Their names linger in the club like perfume and cigars. If you are in the scene, you know them… and of course, they knew you.

“A lady always has a choice,” he rebutted, voice like molasses slow drippin’ off a spoon.

“Who said I was a lady?” you challenged, chin tilted, and your cheeks filled with heat. Once it slipped out of your mouth, there was no snatching it back. You’ve always been reckless with the way words leap past your lips without permission. He didn’t as much as blink at your question, didn’t smirk either. Just stepped in closer, real close, until the scent of smoke, cologne, and something else curled in your nose again. His thigh rose between your legs, stopping just shy of making contact with your center, enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Dipping you down and pulling you back up in time with the strums of the guitar that played aloud. 

“Then I reckon I ain’t gotta treat you like one,” he murmured, voice pitched low and dangerous, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I do like a woman who talks back.” You swore your knees might buckle right there. “S’wrong? Cat’s got your tongue?” he joked to lighten the obvious tension that grew quickly between you two. You could hear your heartbeat over the hum of the blues and chatter that surrounded you. His thigh lingered, firm and deliberate, almost making you forget your own damn name. But you weren’t going to let him have the upper hand. Not entirely. 

Leaning in just a little, with parted lips and sharp eyes. “And what do they call you, stranger?” your voice came out strong and daring, like you weren’t already trying to keep your head on straight. 

He didn’t answer right away, dragging his gaze from your eyes to your lips, then down to the space between you that barely existed anymore. “They call me Stack,” he finally said, a slow smile beginning to curl at the corner of his mouth. “But you can call me Elias Moore.” He said it like a promise as he lowered his deep red fedora hat, his eyes never leaving yours. His name hung in the air, impossible to ignore. The kind of name a woman didn’t forget, even if she wanted to. The Elias Stack Moore stood before you, and being his girl could open up more doors for you than you could count. 

“Come on,” he drawled, his hand brushing the small of your back. “Dance floor’s gettin too damn crowded for what I got in mind.” You felt him guide you, firm but unhurried through he sea of moving bodies, past the haze of cigar smoke and spilled bourbon, nobody paid y’all any mind. Juke joints were built on secrets and sideways glances anyway.

The change room door creaked as he pushed it open with his shoulder. The low bulb above their heads was flickering, as if it knew what was coming. Inside, it smelled like lavender powder and dust. The old velvet curtains were draped over crates, hiding booze and our valuables. The crooked mirror watched us from its respective corners. He closed the door behind you with a click that felt louder than it was.

He leaned against it for a beat, arms crossed, watching you like he was still deciding whether to kiss you or ruin you slowly. “Now,” Stack’s voice dropped to a sinful hush, “where were we?”

a/n: POSTING TOMORROW!!! :)

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst V

Leah Williamson x Child!Reader

Summary: Leah gets in trouble

"He-Hello? Hello? Jord...Jord, I can't hear you. Give me a moment."

The sound of the music and the crowd surrounds Leah as she steps a bit further away, shoving her phone as close to her ear as she can manage.

"Jordan! Jordan?! Can you hear me?!" She's practically screaming down her phone, straining her ears for even an inkling of Jordan's voice.

"Leah Cathrine Williamson!" Is what she gets in return. "Why is that music so loud?!"

"It's a festival, Jordan," Leah says back with an eye roll," I'm near the stage and-"

"And if you're near the stage, who exactly is with our child?! Seeing as it's nearly midnight so she should be in bed!"

Leah freezes, a bolt of lightning running down her spine as she glances towards her friends.

You're bouncing along to the music as her cousin pours some of your fruitshoot into a little plastic cup so you feel like you're being included in all the drinking the adults around you are doing.

A worried chuckle comes out of Leah's mouth that she hopes Jordan doesn't hear.

"Our kid? Our little Lovebug?"

"Yes!" Jordan snaps down the phone. "Bug! Our child, Leah. Our child who should definitely be in bed right now!"

"Well, she is in bed!" Leah lies," Fast asleep. I gave her a kiss good night and everything. My cousin's called it a night so she's babysitting."

"Really?" Jordan sounds like she doesn't believe her even down the phone. "So if I go on Instagram right now, I won't see any pictures or videos of our daughter partying in the dark?"

"No," Leah says, calling Jordan's bluff," No pictures or videos of our Bug."

The music is so loud that Leah can't hear Jordan's answering hum. To be honest, she's not really focussing on the call anyway.

Her friends have formed a little half circle around you as you bounce along to the Coldplay song playing, cheering you on as you get more and more into it.

A soft smile plays on Leah's lips as she watches and she's so engrossed that she almost misses Jordan's next words.

"So if Bug's in bed then you wouldn't mind switching to a videocall and show me what's going on?"

"Jord-"

"You know I'm not actually asking, Leah."

Guiltily, Leah switches to a videocall.

Unlike her, who is in a muddy field with pounding music, Jordan's curled up on her sofa back home in Birmingham. She's got Blu on her lap fast asleep and a soft blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

She looks cosy and snug back at home and Leah flashes her a nervous smile.

"And now you can flip the camera."

"Oh? Are you sure? Why don't we-"

"Leah. The camera. I'd like to see our child."

Begrudgingly, and because she knows that there is no way out of it, Leah flips the camera around.

"Mum!" You call out, bouncing enthusiastically from within the half circle around you," Mum, are you flimin' me? We're goin' to show Bear and auntie Kei?"

"Er...I've got Mummy on the phone actually!" Leah calls back to you and you stop bouncing immediately.

You shove your see through cup of fruitshoot off to Leah's cousin and hurry over, practically trying to climb Leah to get even a glimpse of Jordan.

"Mummy? Mummy! Mummy! Mum, help! Want to see Mummy!"

Leah hefts you up onto her hip, flipping the camera again so Jordan can see you both together.

"Mummy!" You exclaim, happily wiggling in Leah's arms," Mummy, did you see me dancin'? I can dance!"

Both Jordan and Leah aren't quite sure whether they classify what you do as dancing. Bouncing is probably a more apt decision.

You've been a bouncer since your birth practically. Your old baby bouncer was probably your favourite toy of them all and from the moment you first heard music, you've bounced along to it.

"And what a good dancer you are!" Jordan says, beaming at you," Are you having fun with Mum?"

"I am!" You say, bobbing your head up and down happily," Mum says at a festival there is no bedtime! And-"

Leah's mouth comes up to cover your mouth as she quickly tries to do damage control.

"What Bug means is there's no bedtimes for adults-"

"No, you said that there was no Bug Bedtime," You interrupt, prying her hand away from your mouth," You said there were no rules. Just not to tell Mummy..." You eyes widen as you look at Leah's phone. "Oh, sorry, Mum."

Leah sighs. "It's fine, Bug. Mummy would have found out either way."

"Mummy's very smart."

"Yes she is."

"And very, very angry at you, Leah," Jordan says," It's bedtime for Bug now."

"What? But Mummy-"

"Bedtime for sleepy little Lovebugs," Jordan says, her voice back to the soft one she always uses when addressing you," Because it's way past little bugs and their bedtimes."

"Mummy-"

"I love you, my Lovebug."

You huff. "Love you too, Mummy."

"Take. Her. To. Bed. Leah."

"Will do, Jords. Night."

"Goodnight."

The calls is dropped in the next second and you look up at Leah, tilting your head to the side.

"Is it really bedtime for little Lovebugs?" You ask and Leah grins.

"I don't think your Mummy can be mad if you get an extra five minutes...maybe another hour."

[dozybeez]

Spin For Me (Pt. Six)

She's the quiet girl in class with a secret life after dark. He's the campus heartthrob who's used to getting what he wants— except her. When a class project forces them together, buried truths, blurred lines, and undeniable tension threaten to unravel everything they thought they knew.

→ part one → part two → part three → part four → part five

→ part seven coming soon

pairing: college au! kim mingyu x exotic dancer f!reader

word count: 6.3k

content warnings: slowish burn, smut, lap dances, adult club setting, derogatory language toward sex workers, internalized shame, emotional distress, subtle? size, possession, and innocence kink. drugs & alcohol. MDNI

songs for this chapter:

- Waiting All Night by Rudimental & Ella Eyre

- Everlong by Foo Fighters

- Midnight City by M83

- Coming Home Soon by High June

Time didn’t move right after.

You stood there, eyes locked, your breath fogging faintly between you. The rooftop noise blurred—music, laughter, the low crackle of heaters and clinking glasses. None of it seemed to matter. Not with the way he was looking at you.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you looked away.

You weren’t touching, but it felt like you were. That kind of closeness. That kind of pause. His eyes held you still, like they were asking something unspoken—and you, too stunned or too afraid to answer, stayed perfectly still. Waiting. Bracing. Wanting.

And maybe it was the alcohol, or the quiet, or the rooftop air brushing cold against your legs… But your brain betrayed you.

Because suddenly—vivid and whole and burning—you were remembering that night.

The club. The lap dance.

His body beneath you, huge and grounded, muscles taut under your palms. The slick grind of your hips against his thighs, the control it took for him not to touch you. His jaw clenched. His eyes never leaving your face.

You hadn’t let yourself think about it—not really. Not after how everything cracked open after. But now… now he was this close again. And all you could think about was how his body had felt under yours. How good it felt to lose yourself like that. In him.

You’re just friends, you told yourself. You’re friends, right?

And that thought—that—was what made you step back.

Not far. Just enough to breathe again. To remind yourself where you were. To remind yourself who you were pretending to be.

“I should, um…” You glanced toward the crowd, the hum of the party reminding you who you arrived with. “Probably go find my friends.”

Mingyu didn’t argue. He just nodded once, slow.

And that should’ve been it. The end. A quiet retreat.

But then—his eyes flicked to your hand.

The cigarette between your fingers had burned halfway down. Smoke curled softly in the cold, your fingers trembling faintly.

“Can I?” he asked, voice lower now—gravel threaded through warmth.

You followed his gaze, confused. Then you realized.

You blinked. Then nodded slowly, lifting the cigarette between you, expecting him to take it with his hand.

But he didn’t move like that.

Instead, he stepped closer. Just a fraction. And tilted his head. His eyes didn’t leave yours for even a second as he parted his lips—just slightly.

Not a smirk. Not a joke. Just a quiet, controlled command.

Your heart thudded hard.

He wanted you to give it to him. Not pass it. Not toss it. Feed it to him.

And the way he was looking at you…God.

There was heat in it. Stillness. Something deeper than teasing. Like he was waiting to see if you’d flinch. If you’d touch him again. If you’d dare.

You stepped in. Slowly.

Your breath hitched.

Even in your kitten heels, you had to rise on your toes, your wrist brushing his chest, knuckles trembling as you brought the cigarette to his mouth.

Your hand was so close to his face, your knuckles nearly grazing his jaw. You could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. See every little detail up close—the faint scar above his browe, the fullness of his bottom lip, the freckle on the tip of his nose.

His lips closed around the cigarette. Soft. Deliberate.

And he didn’t break eye contact—not once.

His mouth stayed on it for a beat longer than necessary. Then he inhaled, slow and deep, the smoke curling between you like tension made visible. His cheek hollowed slightly with the drag, and something in your stomach fluttered at the sight of it.

He exhaled through his nose, lazy and calm, like this wasn’t undoing you completely. But you felt undone.

Then you pulled away. And so did he.

He didn’t take the cigarette. He didn’t even speak.

He just let the silence buzz between you.

Your arm dropped back to your side, fingers still tingling from where you touched him. From where you almost did.

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

You blinked. “To find my friends?”

“To wherever you’re going.”

A beat passed.

“You don’t even know where that is.”

He smiled—tilted, lazy, just the corner of his mouth—and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

You stared at him for another second, unsure if this was real. The noise of the bar behind you pressed louder, voices rising with the music.

He waited.

And somehow, even without saying it, you already knew what he was going to ask next. You felt it before the words left his mouth.

Quietly, his voice low, deep, and steady—he said, “How about we get out of here?”

The words weren’t cocky. Weren’t slick. Just real. Confident. Assured.

Your heart kicked once, hard in your chest.

You didn’t answer right away. You just looked at him.

And that’s when he reached out.

Fingers warm, slow, extending toward your free hand—offering, not demanding. He didn’t grab. He didn’t push.

Just waited.

The silence pulled tight between you. And you… gave it to him.

Not quickly. Not casually.

You placed your hand in his, deliberate and certain— but maybe a little shaky— while your other hand still held the cigarette at your side.

His fingers curled around yours with quiet weight.

And then he turned, tugging you gently with him—toward the far stairs that led down the back of the building, away from the crowd, the lights, the noise.

You followed. Quiet. Barely breathing.

And just before you reached the top of the stairs—while his back was turned, one step ahead of you—you brought the cigarette back to your lips.

You weren’t thinking about the nicotine.

You were thinking how the cigarette had touched his mouth. About the way he looked at you when you pressed it there. About the heat of his hand still gripping yours.

You took a slow drag. Held it. Let it burn.

Then flicked the cigarette off the side of the building, sparks tumbling into the dark.

And followed him into the night.

⸻

The street felt colder than before.

Or maybe it just felt real.

No lights strung overhead. No bass thumping through the floor. Just pavement, low clouds, and the hum of the city winding down. It was late—past midnight—but not late enough that everything had shut off. The bars still buzzed faintly in the distance. A car passed. Somewhere, someone laughed.

But between the two of you, everything was quiet.

Mingyu didn’t let go of your hand.

Not once.

Not when you stepped off the last stair. Not even when you adjusted your coat tighter around yourself. He just kept walking beside you, steady and warm, your fingers caught between his like they belonged there.

His hand was so much bigger than yours—long fingers, calloused palm, his grip firm but easy, like he was made to shield. But it wasn’t just the size. It was the weight of it, the quiet certainty in the way he held you. Protective without smothering. Easy without careless. The kind of touch you didn’t realize you’d been craving until it was already there. Not claiming, not possessive—just protective. Naturally.

That kind of presence you didn’t know you needed until it was right there, guiding you forward like something steady in a storm.

He stopped in front of a small, beat-up pizza place—neon sign buzzing, windows fogged from the oven heat inside. He glanced at you once, then stepped inside like he’d already made the call.

“Give me the best you’ve got,” he told the guy behind the counter, voice low but sure.

Two slices hit the counter in less than a minute along with two bottled beers pulled from a cooler. Condensation gathered quick on the glass before Mingyu quickly paid and the two of you headed back into the night.

Outside, you found a quiet stretch of curb just beyond the pizza place. The night air was cold, but your coat did most of the work, fur brushing against your cheeks as you sat down beside Mingyu. A streetlamp buzzed overhead, and every now and then the clouds shifted, letting the moon spill silver over the sidewalk.

He sat next to you, just close enough that his shoulder warmed the space between you. Two folded paper plates balanced between you both—each one weighed down with a single, hot, slice. Two beers clinked together in your free hands like there was something to celebrate.

“To what?” you’d asked, eyes glinting beneath the streetlight.

He looked at you—really looked—and smiled. Not wide, not loud. Just soft, sure, and full of something that felt like adoration. And in that quiet curve of his mouth, you heard the answer he didn’t say.

Now you sat quietly beside him, your hands chilled even more so by the beer bottle, the heat of the pizza cutting through the chill just enough to make the moment feel suspended—somewhere between cozy and unreal.

You tried not to watch him, but it was impossible.

When he pulled out his keys to open your bottle, your eyes followed the motion. His hand grazed yours, slow and unhurried, then closed around the bottle with that same assured grip he always seemed to have. He didn’t ask, just hooked the edge of the key under the cap and popped it off against his thigh in one clean, practiced move.

Your gaze trailed up the subtle shift of his forearm, the flex beneath his sleeve, the way his veins pushed against skin in sharp lines. It was ridiculous how distracting it was—how something so small could feel so... intimate.

He handed it back to you without looking, murmuring, “Here,” like it meant nothing. But it did something to you. You could feel it in your throat.

When he did his own, using your own bottle as leverage, you tried not to look. You really did. But your eyes betrayed you. The way his forearm flexed, veins catching the glow of the streetlight. The soft clink of metal against glass. The calm precision of it, like even this—cracking open a beer—could be done with assured, deliberate ease. You stared too long. And he felt it.

His eyes flicked toward you. Not teasing. Just quiet, steady, curious. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t have to. But you saw the grin tug at the corner of his mouth, slow and knowing. Like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

God. You turned away too quickly, eyes wide, face warming.

He didn’t call you out. Didn’t press. Just leaned back, one hand on the sidewalk, the other still wrapped around his beer. His thigh brushed against yours. Not enough to mean something. But not nothing either.

And all the while, in the back of his mind—he was thinking you were so fucking cute. The way your eyes darted when you got flustered. The way you tried so hard not to be obvious, but still couldn’t help yourself. He didn’t say it. Wouldn’t dare. But it was all over his face.

And you felt it—without him ever saying a word.

Calming down your blush, you took a bite of your pizza, chewing slowly, your eyes drifting toward the skyline—just to have somewhere to look that wasn’t him.

Still, you could feel his gaze.

Not heavy. Not invasive. Just… there. Like he was memorizing something.

You took another sip of your beer, the fizz chasing warmth into your chest.

And when he shifted beside you, you saw it again—the flex of his arm, the movement under his shirt, the quiet strength he never had to announce. The kind of presence that made you feel... steadier. Like nothing bad could touch you if he was close.

You hated how much you liked that.

You turned your head, caught his eyes on you.

He didn’t look away.

And you didn’t either.

⸻

When the last bite of pizza was gone and your beer bottles sat empty between you, a soft hush fell over the curb.

The kind of quiet that felt deliberate.

You tucked your hands into your coat, shoulders curling slightly against the chill. Mingyu hadn’t said much in the last few minutes, but you could feel him watching you. Not in a way that demanded anything—just a calm, persistent presence. Like a current you’d stepped into without realizing.

Then—

“I’ve got a spot,” he said suddenly, voice low, like the thought had just occurred to him. But when you looked over, he was already standing.

You blinked. “A spot?”

He didn’t explain. Just held out a hand, eyes glinting. “C’mon.”

You stared at it for a second.

You didn’t need a reason. You never really did when it came to him.

Your fingers found his again—smaller, colder, but he wrapped around you without hesitation.

He helped you up, brushing his palm lightly over the back of your coat as you straightened. You tossed your beer into a nearby recycling bin, and the two of you drifted back into the streetlight’s glow, feet tapping rhythmically on the pavement.

You didn’t ask where he was taking you.

Somehow, that made it feel safer.

The city quieted as you walked. Less traffic, less buzz, fewer people. Just a stretch of damp pavement, a few scattered streetlights, and the hush of everything winding down.

Mingyu still hadn’t let go of your hand.

Even now—blocks later—his fingers were laced with yours, easy and warm. He’d slowed his strides to match yours, which at this point was comical considering how long his legs were. Still, you had to push just a little harder to keep up.

You didn’t say anything. At first.

But then came the slight limp and the continued slow pace that caught his attention.

He noticed. Of course he noticed.

“You good?” he asked, glancing over at you.

You gave a casual shrug. “Thriving.”

He looked down at your feet.

Then back up at you.

“You’re limping.”

“I’m walking with flavor,” you said, deadpan.

“Uh huh.” He didn’t look convinced. “Let me guess. Shoes?”

“No, it’s your massive ego. The weight of it is throwing off my balance.”

He blinked, then huffed a short laugh. “That’s crazy. I was gonna say the same about yours.”

You glared at him like he insulted your most sacred belief—like he'd just disrespected pizza, or your skincare routine, or the exact order in which you watch your comfort shows.

That earned a quiet laugh from him. “You always this dramatic?”

“You always this observant?”

He raised a brow. “Only with you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Great. Love that for me.”

But still—you were slowing down. Even sarcasm couldn’t disguise the fact that every step felt like your heels were being personally punished by Satan.

Mingyu stopped walking.

You blinked at him. “Why’d you stop?”

“Give me your bag.”

“…What.”

“Just for a second.”

You narrowed your eyes. “If you’re about to rob me—”

But you handed it over anyway, watching him sling it over one shoulder. Then, without warning, he crouched.

Your stomach dropped.

“Oh my God. Mingyu, no—”

“Yup.”

“I swear to God, I will scream.”

He ignored you. One arm hooked behind your knees, the other behind your back, and then—up.

You yelped. “This is so unnecessary.”

“You can’t walk.”

“I can!”

“You’re limping and in pain.”

“I have danced in stilettos for three hours straight!”

He glanced down at the dainty kitten heels dangling from your feet. “Yeah, and these are breaking you. That’s actually impressive.”

You scowled. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I’m helping.”

“You’re smug.”

“You’re blushing.”

Your mouth snapped shut. Not because you weren’t—but because he wasn’t supposed to notice that.

His shirt brushed your jawline as you curled instinctively closer. He adjusted you slightly in his arms, like it was nothing. Like you were nothing—at least in terms of weight. The man carried you like a backpack.

And God help you… you didn’t hate it.

You tried not to look at him. Really tried. But your eyes flicked up anyway.

His jaw was set. His gaze fixed straight ahead. And even though his expression barely changed, you could feel the tiny little smirk he was holding back.

You groaned into his shoulder. “Put me down.”

“No.”

“People are staring.”

“No one’s out here but us.”

“…I hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

You didn’t answer. Not out loud. But when your cheek brushed his chest again, your eyes fluttered shut just for a second. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the solid press of his arms around you—everything about it felt absurdly comforting.

And maybe it was the beer, or the night air, or just how much had been simmering between you lately, but the warmth blooming in your chest had nothing to do with embarrassment anymore.

You let out a long breath.

“You do realize this is not helping your case,” you said.

He looked down at you, one brow raised. “What case?”

“That this is just casual. That we’re still playing the former project partner, maybe-friends game.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just smiled—wide, boyish, a little infuriating.

“Good.”

⸻

You weren’t sure what you expected when Mingyu said he had a spot.

Somewhere cliché. Somewhere easy.

But this—this wasn’t what you pictured at all.

He led you around the side of a class building, steps quiet, the cold night thick with city hush. He hadn’t said much since your little detour, since your heart had just barely returned to its chest after being carried in his arms like some smug, grinning idiot had dreamed of doing it for years. You were still breathless from his presence—still warm from pizza grease and the ghost of his fingers laced through yours.

But that warmth turned curious when he stopped in front of a tall gate, chain link and padlocked, barely lit by a single orange light above. You blinked at it, confused.

“This is your spot?” you asked, eyeing the rusted metal.

He didn���t answer. Just looked over his shoulder with a smirk and jerked his chin toward the side.

You followed him, more curious now than anything. He cut down a narrow path behind the ticket booth and stopped beside a warped section of fencing. It bent just enough from the bottom to be yanked back with a grunt and a squeal of metal.

“You’ve broken in here before,” you whispered, grinning despite yourself.

He gave you a glance. “I prefer the term ‘slipped in.’”

You rolled your eyes. “So what—you just sneak into the football stadium for fun?”

“Not for fun,” he said, lifting the fence just enough to let you duck under. “For space.”

You slipped through first, the cold grass crunching under your boots. He followed, and the fence clanked shut behind him.

You were fully inside now.

The air changed.

The city noise faded behind the concrete walls, and the vast, open bowl of the stadium stretched around you in silence. The field was empty—just a dark sea of turf and painted lines, faintly glowing under the ghost of moonlight above. The bleachers loomed, huge and skeletal, like a silver spine arcing into the night sky.

You turned in a slow circle, breath caught.

It was so quiet. So massive. So still.

“This feels illegal,” you whispered, a little breathless.

“Probably is,” he replied. “But it’s worth it.”

He started toward the bleachers. You stood there for another beat, just letting yourself take it all in.

Everything felt… suspended.

The way the lights of the city barely reached over the edge of the stadium walls. The moon slipping behind clouds. The cold creeping up your legs, tugging at your coat. It was like the world had been placed on mute—just for the two of you.

You followed him up the stairs, metal clanging underfoot. They echoed differently in a space this wide. It wasn’t just noise—it was sound stretching into something else. Something emptier. You found yourself holding your breath, just to keep the moment from breaking too soon.

By the time you reached the top, your lungs felt full of cold air and something you couldn’t name.

You sat down beside him, both of you slightly out of breath, shoulders brushing faintly.

He didn’t say anything right away. Just leaned forward, forearms resting loosely on his knees, eyes on the field below.

You sat beside him, letting the silence settle.

Then, finally, he spoke—quiet, almost like he was talking to himself.

“I used to come here when I felt alone.”

You glanced at him, but he didn’t look back.

“Even though…” He exhaled, slow. “I’m always around people. Class. The guys. Parties. Just—noise. Constant noise. But sometimes I’d leave and feel like I hadn’t said a single real thing all day.”

Your heart tugged.

He shifted, elbows resting on his thighs, gaze steady on the field.

“I don’t even know what I was looking for. Just—space, I guess. Somewhere no one expected anything from me. Somewhere I didn’t have to be anything.”

Your breath caught.

Because you understood that. Deeply.

He didn’t wear it like you did—didn’t crumble or spiral. He wore his weight differently. With easy smiles and group laughs and late arrivals that somehow still earned forgiveness. But in this silence, in the curve of his shoulders, in the steadiness of his voice… there it was.

The loneliness.

The ache.

Not loud. Just there.

And now you were here, too.

The moment thickened, stretching out between you like something unspoken that might crack if either of you moved too fast. You looked up again, letting the sky fill the space instead.

Clouds drifted, slow and silver-edged, parting just long enough to let the moon glow through. The stadium lights were off, but the world still glowed faintly—just enough to see him by.

And when you turned your head, just a little—

He was watching you again.

Just quietly. Like something about this moment demanded stillness.

Like he didn’t want to miss a single detail.

Above, the clouds drifted. Below, the stadium stretched endlessly—row after empty row, towering seats climbing into the dark like cliffs. Built to hold ninety thousand voices. Now holding none.

Just the two of you.

And somehow, even with all that space yawning out around you, it didn’t feel empty. He’d spent so much of his life surrounded by people—cheering crowds, parties, girls, noise. But this— Just the two of you on a cold bench, your knees barely brushing— was the least lonely he'd ever felt.

⸻

You weren’t sure how long you sat like that—both of you quiet, side by side, watching nothing in particular and everything all at once.

The stars had started to peek through, scattered faintly between moving clouds, like they were being stingy about showing up for you tonight. A single one blinked low on the horizon, barely there, almost shy.

You pointed at it. “There. Proof we won’t die in jail.”

Mingyu glanced at you, brow raised.

You nodded toward the sky. “That one star. A good omen. Definitely means we won’t get caught.”

“Ah,” he said. “Astronomy-based legal defense. Solid plan.”

“If we go to court, I’ll represent us.”

“Oh, we’re going to court together now?”

“Obviously.”

He snorted, soft and warm. “You’d throw me under the bus so fast.”

“I’d cry in court. They’d never suspect me.”

“They’d take one look at you and believe anything.”

You turned to look at him, half-smiling. “That supposed to be flattering?”

He shrugged, easy. “Maybe.”

You huffed a laugh through your nose, leaning back against the bleachers behind you. They were cold against your coat, metal digging a little into your shoulder blades. Mingyu followed your movement without comment, stretching his legs out long in front of him.

A beat passed.

Then you both lay back fully—shoulder to shoulder now, the only space between you stolen by clothing. The sky opened above you like a dome, half-clouded and faintly glowing.

“Wait,” Mingyu said softly, just as you started to settle.

You turned your head, brow raised.

“Lift your head for a sec.”

You did.

Without fanfare, he shifted his arm under you, letting it curl under your head as he leaned into the same angle, his arm brushing yours. “So you’re not laying straight on the metal,” he muttered, like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t the most thoughtful thing anyone had done all week.

You said nothing. But you didn’t move away.

You let the silence cover it—like that small gesture didn’t make your ribs ache a little.

The sky opened above you like a dome, half-clouded and faintly glowing.

“You can see more stars than I thought,” you murmured.

He hummed low in agreement, voice almost lost in the distance of it all.

Another pause. Another drift.

And then—

“...You cold?” he asked, not quite looking at you.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“You’re shivering.”

“No I’m not.”

“You lie like it’s a sport.”

You rolled your eyes toward him, but didn’t respond.

Instead, you tucked your arms tighter across your chest and exhaled. The silence between you was different now—not stiff or strange, just… softer. Like it understood something you hadn’t said.

And then your elbow bumped his. Not hard. Just a nudge.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t even flinch.

Eventually, you let your arms fall open, fingers brushing the hem of your coat—and just slightly, the edge of him. Barely a whisper of contact. But you could feel it. The static hum of something not quite accidental.

The kind of closeness that wasn’t deliberate, but wasn’t innocent either.

He turned his head then, slow, and your eyes caught his in the dark.

He didn’t say anything. Just… looked.

Like he was taking you in—or maybe he wasn’t thinking anything at all. Just being there. Just being with you.

“You make things feel quiet,” he said finally, voice quiet as the wind. “In a good way.”

Your throat tightened.

You looked away too fast—upward again, letting the sky fill your gaze like a shield. You didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know how to hold something so gentle without accidentally breaking it.

But the moment didn’t ask for a reply. It just kept breathing.

Minutes passed—or maybe seconds. You weren’t sure.

Then: “We should probably head back.”

You said it, but you didn’t move.

Mingyu didn’t either.

Your head shifted, just slightly, turning to look at him again. And the movement—lazy, unconscious, warm—landed you closer than you realized.

Because now your cheek was against him.

Not his shoulder. Not the space beside him.

His chest.

The soft press of your cheekbone over his heartbeat, solid and steady beneath his coat. His breath hitched faintly—and then, slowly, his arm moved around you and not just under you. A palm, gentle, curled against your side.

Not pulling.

Just resting there.

A question. A reassurance.

You closed your eyes.

His warmth seeped into your skin like it had always belonged there. Your entire body seemed to still—like the night paused for you again, just briefly, to let you feel it.

Him.

Just this.

And it hit you suddenly how easy this was. How quiet. How inevitable.

The sound of his heart beneath your cheek.

His hand, wide and warm, holding you like he meant to stay.

The way the stars were still trying—just barely—to break through the clouds.

You didn’t move. Not yet.

And neither did he.

Because right now, there was no rush.

There was only this.

Two bodies under a barely-there sky, hidden in a stadium built for thousands, and somehow… finally not alone.

⸻

The walk back was quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that comforted. Not the good kind.

You held his hand the whole time—his fingers laced through yours, warm and steady like he had no intention of letting go. He didn’t rush, even slowed his steps to match yours, like he was drawing out the night, refusing to let it end.

But you felt the tension building in your throat anyway.

The closer the dorm got, the louder your thoughts became. Familiar patterns creeping in like shadows at the edge of light. You could feel yourself slipping. Rebuilding. Reinforcing. Your spine straightened. Your jaw set. Your smile softened into something more practiced, less real.

You didn’t know why you did it—only that it was automatic.

And Mingyu noticed.

He always did.

By the time you reached your dorm steps, the warmth had started to fade from your fingers. You let go of his hand first, and the chill that followed wasn’t from the cold.

You didn’t look at him when you said, “Thanks for tonight.”

He looked at you. Fully. Brows drawn together, mouth parting like he couldn’t believe that’s all you were giving him.

“You’re welcome,” he said slowly. “But why does it sound like a goodbye?”

You exhaled, eyes flicking up to the dorm door. “Because it is.”

His expression didn’t change. Not really. But something in his posture shifted.

“Right,” he said. “Just a one-night thing.”

“Exactly.” You nodded too quickly, too sharp. “We had fun. That’s all.”

“That’s all,” he repeated. Like he was testing the taste of it. “Is that what you really think?”

“What else would it be?” You crossed your arms, suddenly cold beneath your coat. “We’re not dating.”

“No,” he said, voice low. “We’re not. But you don’t act like this is just fun, either.”

“I’m sorry,” you snapped, “did I miss the part where you became an expert on my feelings?”

“I don’t need to be an expert to see the difference between you being scared and you being cruel.”

Your jaw tensed.

That one landed.

“I’m not scared.”

He stepped forward. “Then look me in the eye and tell me none of this means anything to you.”

You met his gaze.

And lied.

“It doesn’t.”

The silence was so sudden it felt like the air thinned.

Mingyu’s eyes didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.

You felt sick.

He laughed once, quiet and bitter. “Right. Of course.”

“You’re reading too much into it,” you said, softer this time, like that would somehow make it better. “We had a good night. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” he said again. “You think I hold your hand like that for fun?”

“You hold everyone’s hand, Mingyu,” you said. It came out meaner than you meant it to. “That’s what you do. You charm. You touch. You flirt. It’s not special.”

The look on his face—

God, you wished you could take it back.

But you didn’t. You held your ground, even as your chest ached. Even as everything in your body screamed to pull him back in.

“You don’t get to act like this doesn’t matter,” he said, voice suddenly hoarse. “Like it’s just a joke to you.”

“I never said it was a joke.”

“But you’re pretending like it is.”

You looked away.

He took another step closer. “Why?”

“Because it’s easier!” you burst, hands flying up. “Because if I let myself think it’s something else, then I have to admit that it scares the shit out of me! That I like you. That I think about you all the fucking time. That I can’t stop replaying everything and wondering what it means, and I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t.”

His face changed slowly.

You felt your throat go dry.

“I don’t do this, Mingyu,” you said. “I don’t let people in. I don’t let them stay. Because they don’t. Because they never do.”

He was quiet for a long time.

Then, quietly: “You could’ve just said that.”

“I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

He laughed under his breath, sad and almost amused. “Of what? Knowing that you’re human?”

“No,” you said. “Of knowing that you’re the first person who’s ever made me feel like maybe I’m allowed to want more.”

And then it happened.

He looked at you—really looked—and something inside you cracked.

The silence wrapped tighter.

The night was cold. Your coat wasn't doing enough. Your heart was doing too much.

He stepped forward, eyes flicking to your lips like he was finally going to do it—like this was the moment, the break, the fall.

And you—

You stepped back.

Just a little.

The heartbreak on his face was instant.

Like you’d slapped him. Like he’d misread the whole night. Like he’d just exposed something deep and stupid and real—and you’d looked it in the eye and said no thanks.

His chest rose once. Sharply. And for a second, he just stared at you.

But then his jaw clenched. His eyes shuttered. And he stepped back too.

One pace. Then another.

No curse. No snide comment. No save.

He just turned. Shoulders tense. Hands fisting in the sleeves of his hoodie.

Started walking. Not storming off, not slamming a door behind him— Just… leaving. Like he’d already decided that trying again would hurt worse than whatever this was.

Like this is exactly why he never let himself hope too hard. Why he didn’t tell people when things hurt. Why he never showed this version of himself to anyone.

Because every time he did to you— you stepped back.

And it split you open.

You hadn’t meant to hurt him. God, that was never the point. You were just scared. It was you you didn’t trust.

He was leaving.

And that, more than anything, made you move.

You lunged forward without thinking, your fingers wrapping around his wrist before he could get more than two steps away. His skin was warm, solid under your grip. He stopped instantly, the tension in his arm stiff, confused—but he didn’t shake you off.

He looked down, startled— eyes wide, confused, defensive.

And before he could say your name—before he could ask anything—

You pulled him toward you.

Your other hand found his chest, fisting into the fabric of his shirt, and you kissed him.

No warning. No plan.

Just instinct and heat and desperation all tangled up in a moment that had waited too long to happen.

His breath hitched. His whole body froze, like his brain hadn’t yet caught up to what was happening—like he wasn’t sure this moment was real.

But then—

He kissed you back.

Hard.

His hands found your waist like he’d been dreaming of this—like they knew exactly where to go. Fingers curled tight into the fabric of your coat, like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on. And then, without even meaning to, he pulled you closer—lifted you just slightly off your toes, like his body couldn’t help but bridge the last bit of distance. Like needing you closer wasn’t a choice, but instinct. And then his mouth— God, his mouth.

It crashed into yours like every argument, every glance, every silence had been leading here—like the space between you had only ever been waiting to collapse.

There was nothing tentative about it. No slow build. No shy uncertainty.

It was fire.

All of it.

Heat and breath and the sharp, staggering ache of something that had been simmering too long. His lips were warm, almost feverish against yours, and when they parted slightly—just enough for him to inhale your gasp—you swore you forgot how to stand.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t clean.

It was messy. A little frantic.

Teeth and lips and months of tension exploding into something that didn’t know how to be polite.

Your hands slid up his chest without thinking, fisting into the collar of his button up to pull him closer, closer, until you could barely breathe and didn’t care. You could feel the sound he made in his throat—a low, guttural thing that shot down your spine—right before his hand splayed against your lower back and pressed you flush against him.

There was no space left between you. None.

Just heat and motion and everything unsaid.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

He kissed you like he needed to get it out of his system. Like he needed to taste every part of your anger, your silence, your deflection. Like if he kissed you hard enough, deep enough, it would make up for every time he’d held back. Every time he’d walked away.

Your back hit the nearest tree but the roughness of the bark barely registered. Not with the way he cupped your face—like his hands had to relearn gentleness just to hold you. His broad palms cradled your cheeks, thumbs brushing just beneath your cheekbones, while his fingers curled back into your hairline, slipping through strands like he couldn’t get close enough. You felt impossibly gathered in his grip, not fragile, but contained—like he could cradle all your sharpness and still call it soft. You were small under his hands, but not diminished. It wasn’t fragile. It was steady. Certain. Like he knew exactly how to hold you, and had just been waiting for the moment you’d let him. Not with the way his mouth broke away just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead falling against yours with a soft thud like even he couldn’t believe it.

Your breaths tangled in the small space between you, hot and uneven, mouths barely an inch apart. You opened your eyes just in time to see his—stormy, stunned, and burning. Like he wasn’t sure if he was more wrecked by the kiss or by the fact that you’d finally kissed him first.

This wasn’t just desire.

This was everything.

Anger. Longing. The ache of wanting something for so long you started convincing yourself you didn’t. This was every walk away that met his eyes. Every brush of hands. Every almost.

It was inevitable. It was too late. It was perfect.

And it was enough to undo you completely.

Your lips found his again, slower this time—aching now instead of furious. And this time, he kissed you like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to. Like if he wasn’t careful, you’d vanish. Like the moment would end.

But it didn’t. You didn’t.

And neither of you let go.

⸻

Tag List: @sojuxxi @belovedgyu @bingumingoo1004 @burnerforfiction @jujuz251013 @dmstoyangyang @armycarat2612 @eisaspresso

(Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist <3)

[jiuwaves]

Clingy When Tipsy

❦ pairing ; kwon jiyong x reader   

❦ warnings ; none, just fluff :>

The music pulsed through the cozy little lounge, laughter and chatter bubbling louder than the bass. You were tucked into a plush booth with your friends and staff, a glass of champagne in hand, cheeks warm from both the drinks and the love in the room.

Jiyong sat beside you, his arm casually draped around your shoulders, the glow in his eyes even more intoxicating than the city lights outside.

“You killed it out there.” he murmured near your ear, his voice just low enough for only you to hear.

You leaned into him with a grin, the adrenaline of the tour still buzzing in your bones. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

The celebration turned into a blur of lights and laughter as the night deepened. You were absolutely living heels off, hair wild, and one hand in the air as you danced like the entire city was your stage. The drinks kept coming. Shots, cocktails, whatever was handed to you, you took it with a grin and downed it like a champ.

From across the room, Jiyong leaned against the bar, watching you with that soft kind of smile only someone in love could wear. You were the center of it all. Laughing, dancing, glowing like you belonged in the chaos. Every now and then, you’d glance over at him, and he’d raise his glass in that cool, effortless way that only he could pull off. It was your night, and he loved seeing you soak in every bit of it.

But then, his phone buzzed again and again. He sighed, pulling it out, the screen lighting up with messages that could no longer be ignored. Something with work, something urgent and of course it had to be tonight.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face as he slipped through the crowd toward you, weaving past your friends, catching you just as you were mid-laugh with one of your dancers.

“Jagiya..” he said softly, his voice low and tinged with regret.

“I have to go. It’s work.” he added, frowning, as if he couldn’t quite believe he had to leave you right now.

“Oh? That’s okay!” you said with a gentle smile, wrapping your arms around him in a warm hug.

He held you tightly in that moment, his arms wrapped around you like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. His chin rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the heaviness in his breath, like leaving you now physically hurt him.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, really” you said again, softer this time.

He let out a small, breathy laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Then he turned to go, slipping out into the cool night air and into the black car waiting just outside. You stood there for a moment, watching the door even after it closed behind him. The music pulsed back into your awareness, the laughter, the clinking of glasses, all still going, like nothing had changed.

Jiyong sat at the dining table, dressed down in a loose black hoodie and sweats, the soft glow of his laptop casting pale light across his face. The place was quiet, too quiet compared to the electric buzz of the lounge he’d just left. A half-finished cup of coffee sat forgotten beside him, long gone cold.

Fingers tapped rhythmically on the keyboard as he scrolled through files, answered emails, and handled sudden issues that had blown up back at the company but now in every few minutes, his eyes would flicker toward his phone on the table, as if expecting a text from you… or maybe just hoping for one.

He sighed, leaning back in the chair, arms stretching high above his head as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His muscles ached from the hours hunched over his laptop, but it was the weight on his chest, the guilt that pressed the hardest.

Lost in the spiral of regret, he almost didn’t hear it.

Ding-dong.

His head snapped up.

The doorbell rang again, louder this time in the still silence of the apartment.

Jiyong blinked, confused. It was past midnight.

He stood slowly, chair sliding back with a quiet scrape, and padded to the door. He peeked through the peephole... then froze.

There you were.

Kneeling on the floor outside his door, a half-empty bottle in one hand, your shoes dangling from the other, and your hair tousled from a night that had clearly lived up to the chaos. Your eyes flicked up to him with a lopsided smile, equal parts tipsy and tired.

Jiyong's heart stopped for a second. Then panic kicked in.

“Aish, jagi—what are you doing down there?” he hissed under his breath, quickly stepping out and pulling you up gently but firmly by the arm. “You’re gonna catch a cold… and what if someone saw you like this?”

He glanced down the hallway before ushering you inside, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. The second the lock turned, the tension in his shoulders eased but only slightly.

You stumbled in with a quiet giggle, holding the bottle up like a trophy. “I brought wine.”

Jiyong looked at you, then at the bottle, then back at you. His lips twitched despite himself. “You’re unbelievable.”

He walked over slowly, kneeling in front of you, brushing your hair back from your face. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy but soft.

“You’re such a mess right now..” he murmured with a small smile.

The bottle tilted in your hand slightly, and he took it from you with a sigh, setting it aside before you could spill it all over the rug.

“..Okay” he said, standing up and offering you a hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then you’re staying here tonight. No arguments.”

You blinked up at him, your fingers curling around his. “What about work?”

He gave you a look. “Screw work. You’re here now.”

He lifted you effortlessly, and you swayed into his arms.

"Woah, handsome..” you murmured, your words thick with the haze of alcohol, your fingers playfully twirling on his chest.

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his skin, fingers still tracing circles on his chest. 

‘’Am i.. lucky?’’ you whispered with your hands slipping to his neck, tugging him closer.

"Maybe?” he said, squinting his eyes in disbelief at your sudden clinginess.

He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips, but you weren’t giving him much space to do anything but laugh softly.

However, you ignored his response, instead pressing yourself even closer, your hands slipping under his shirt as you rested your head on his chest, like you couldn’t bear to be even a few inches away from him.

"I don’t want to let go..” you mumbled, your voice a mix of sleepy and affectionate, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

"How odd..you don’t usually just show up at my house, like this" he said, a playful edge to his voice as he gently picked strands of hair from the top of your head, his fingers lingering on your scalp as if he was still trying to make sense of your sudden appearance.

You leaned into his touch, your hands gripping his shirt like you couldn’t let go. "I couldn’t help it" you whispered, the after-party’s buzz still lingering in your system. 

"I just… missed you." Your voice was soft, almost fragile, as you melted into his embrace, unwilling to let him pull away.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze softening as he noticed the clinginess in your eyes, the way you clung to him like you needed his presence to calm the storm of excitement and exhaustion swirling around you.

"I thought you'd be out there with the others, having fun?” he teased.

"I just wanted you..” you mumbled, your arms wrapping tighter around him, nuzzling your face into his chest. "You left too soon... I didn’t want to be without you."

"Okay, okay, let’s get you cleaned up first" he said with a soft laugh, dragging you inside the bathroom. You still clung to him, stumbling along as he led you to the tub.

He gently set you down on the edge, but you didn’t let go, your hands still wrapped around his arm.

You gave him a pout, "I don’t want to be here... I want you" you whined, your words slurring slightly, eyes heavy with exhaustion and the lingering effects of the party.

Letting out a soft sigh, He looked at you with a mixture of amusement and concern. 

"You really don’t make this easy, huh?" he muttered, reaching over to start running the water for the bath, but you refused to loosen your grip on him.

Once the tub was filled just right, he turned to you, his gaze soft but firm.

"I’m going to get water, okay?" he said, gently letting go of your hand. "You just get in, I'll be back in a minute."

You nodded, your fingers curling around the edge of the tub as he stepped away. As soon as he left the room, a sudden sense of emptiness washed over you, the room feeling quieter without him. You quickly undressed, the warm water soothing your tired muscles as you sank into the bath. You immediately leaned back, letting out a content sigh, your eyes half-lidded from the alcohol and exhaustion.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited, until you heard his footsteps approaching again. The moment he stepped back in, you were already reaching out for him, your voice quiet but needy. 

"Took you long enough" you whispered with a playful pout, your arms reaching for him instinctively. "I didn’t want to be alone in here."

He chuckled softly, handing you the glass of water, his fingers brushing yours as he did. "I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry" he teased, a warm smile on his face. 

You took the glass from him gratefully, sipping the cool water, but your attention quickly shifted back to him as he knelt down by the tub, the sound of his movements calming you.

"Turn around" he said gently, his voice soft and soothing. You complied, shifting to face away from him, your back resting against the edge of the tub as you felt his presence behind you. His hands were warm as he gently cupped your head, tilting it slightly as he began to rinse your hair with the water.

His touch was tender and careful, each motion slow and deliberate as he massaged the shampoo into your scalp. The feeling of his fingers working through your hair was both soothing and intimate, making you relax into him more than you thought you would.

You let out a soft sigh, leaning back slightly, your eyes fluttering closed. "You’re good at this..” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

You couldn’t help but cling to the moment, his gentle touch grounding you in a way nothing else could. "I could get used to this."

He smiled to himself, continuing the slow rhythm of washing your hair, his hands lingering a little longer than necessary, almost as if he didn’t want to let go either.

"I’m happy to help" he said quietly, his voice a soft murmur as his fingers worked their way through your damp hair.

After the bath, he helped you dress in a pair of his soft pyjamas, the warmth of the fabric comforting against your skin. He smiled as he finished adjusting the waistband, but before he could pull away, you protested softly, sitting on the edge of his bed with your arms wrapped around his waist. You rested your face against his stomach, the fabric of his shirt feeling warm and familiar beneath your cheek.

"I’m not sleepy" you mumbled, your voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie, but there was a hint of stubbornness in your tone. You held him tighter, unwilling to let go, your fingers lightly gripping the soft material of his shirt as you melted against him.

He chuckled softly, hands gently stroking your hair as he looked down at you, the smile on his face both amused and affectionate. 

"You sure about that?" he teased, bending slightly to kiss the top of your head. "Because you look like you’re about to pass out any minute."

You shook your head slightly, still holding on to him, your eyes flickering up to meet his.

"I just want to stay with you" you whispered, your voice quieter now, a little more vulnerable.

"Jagiya..." he said with a playful tone, his hands gently but firmly pushing you back onto the bed. You let out a small gasp, caught off guard by the sudden movement, but before you could protest, he was already pulling you further onto the bed, guiding you toward the pillows.

"Promise" he whispered, his voice soft but serious.

”I won’t leave you." His hands were warm as they guided you, pulling you into the pillows where you finally relaxed, your head sinking into the softness beneath you.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and something else, maybe a touch of vulnerability, like you didn’t want him to leave, ever.

“Pinky promise me now” you said, lifting your hand with your pinky finger pointed firmly at him, eyes locked on his like it was a matter of life and death.

He stared at you for a moment, clearly trying not to laugh, squinting as if he wasn’t sure whether to tease you or give in. 

“You’re not being serious, are you?”

“Very serious!” you replied without missing a beat, your face unmoving, the alcohol still softening your features but your stubbornness shining through loud and clear.

“Jagi—”

“Now.”

Your tone left no room for argument. He sighed dramatically, shaking his head with a crooked grin as he brought up his own pinky and hooked it with yours. 

“Fine. Pinky promise..” he said, his voice mock-defeated but fond, like he secretly loved your clinginess more than he’d ever admit.

You gave his pinky the tiniest squeeze, eyes narrowing like you were locking in the deal. 

“You’re stuck with me now’’ you said satisfied, resting your hand against his chest again as you curled back into him.

He let out a soft chuckle, resting his chin lightly on your head.

“I think I knew that the second you latched onto me like a koala” he murmured, arms tightening around you.

[pitchsidestories]

Girls Girls Girls II Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1782

a/n: You guys really came through with so many great requests for Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Reader. We hope you understand that we can't write them all straight away but we'll try to do as many as we can. Based off these two requests. <3

The atmosphere in the Barcelona club was electric. Every movement done inside of it felt like a promise to an eventful evening with endless possibilities. Like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with scenes of the night.

When the clock stroked midnight, Mapi Leon curiously asked her girlfriend while nodding in the direction you were standing: “Have you seen the beauty over there?”

“Are you talking about the girl sitting at the bar?”, Ingrid Engen wanted to know smirking. The Spanish woman replied grinning:” Yes, the one with an old-fashioned in her hands.”  

“She’s gorgeous.”, the midfielder admitted blushing at the sight of you in a stunningly black jumpsuit.  

Innocently Mapi played with a loose string of her hair:” Her glass seems almost empty; do you think we should talk to her?” “I think we should order her a new one.”, the Norwegian suggested warmly.

Enthusiastically the older woman responded:” Yes, I agree.” “I’ll order.”, Ingrid decided. Smiling sweetly at her girlfriend the Spaniard answered: “Thanks.” Afterwards she approached you with a flirty smile:” Hi.”  

“Oh hi.”, you gazed surprised at the two very beautiful women in front of you. Interested the tattooed one wanted to know:” Enjoying your drink?”

“Yes, I know the barkeeper, she and I go to the same Uni, so she always makes something special out of it.”, you told her. She acknowledged that remark with a lifted eyebrow:” Oh, you do?”

“Yes.”, your cheeks turned hot under their attentive eyes. Casually Mapi went on:” What are you studying?” “The arts, I love to paint.”, you answered passionately.

Delighted the Spanish woman muttered:” So you’re an artist.” “I am. Your tattoos are so pretty. What are you and your girlfriend doing? Sorry, I think you’ve not told me your names yet.”, nervously you licked your lips.

 The older woman of the two introduced themselves: “I’m Mapi and that’s Ingrid.” “Nice to meet you both, I’m y/n.”, you remarked in an honest tone.  

A big smile lit up Ingrid’s face: “Nice to meet you too.” “Thanks for the drink.”, you mumbled gratefully lifting you glass with them before taking each a deep sip. Cheerfully the Norwegian waved it off: ”You’re welcome.”

After you three savoured your drinks, Mapi confidently took your and her girlfriend’s hand:” Do you want to dance with us?” “Sure.”, the liquor making you bold in your reply to her question.

Happily, Ingrid got up from the chair she was sitting on a few seconds ago: “Really?”  “Yes, let’s go to the dance floor.”, you said self-assured.

The defender couldn’t help but to observe the reaction of your Uni friend:”Your barkeeper friend doesn’t look amused.” “Oh. But she’s in a relationship.”, you promptly explained.

A sign of relief crossed the older woman’s face:” So she’s got nothing to worry about.” “Exactly.” “Come on.”, impatiently Ingrid pulled both of you to the place people were already dancing.

“Coming!“ You immediately started moving to the music. The rhythm of your bodies in perfect synchronisation. You completely lost focus of your own body, captivated by Ingrids elegant and Mapis more powerful movements.

Mapi winked at you, pulling you close so she could whisper in your ear; “An artist and a good dancer as well.“ You bit back a smile, relieved that your reddening cheeks wouldn’t be visible in the dim light; “You two are not bad either.“

“For football players maybe.“, Ingrid added with a laugh. “Football players?“, you echoed in surprise. “Yes, for FC Barcelona.“, Mapi stated calmly. Your knowledge about football might have been limited but you did know about the Catalan club.

Lost for words, you could only mumble; “Wow.“ Ingrid used your moment of speechlessness to change the subject. “Want to come with us to our place?“, she asked, a carefulness in her voice in case she crossed a line. “Sure.“, you answered without hesitation.

Smiling, Mapi took your hand in hers; “Don’t worry. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.“ “No, I want to come with you. Really.“, you assured her, shaking your head. You refused to let the night end that early.

Ingrid took your other hand; “We should leave then.“ “Yes, let’s go.“, Mapi agreed, leading you both out of the bar after you gathered your jackets and purses.

You were surprised when they opened the door to their apartment to you. It was modern and chic but also very homely at the same time. You immediately felt welcome; “Your apartment is beautiful.“

“Thanks. Ingrid decorated it.“, Mapi grinned proudly. Her girlfriend cheeks went pink; “For the most part.“ “Almost the whole part.“, the defender corrected her amused. You let your gaze wander around the room for a bit longer and commented; “I love it.“

“I know it’s late but would you like some coffee?“, Ingrid offered politely. You smiled; “Yes, I’d like one.“ “I’ll make you one.“ “Thank you.“ “No problem.“, Ingrid waved it off and got to work. You sat down at their kitchen table. While you waited, you took out your notebook and started scribbling into it.

Some of your creative energy needed an outlet. You failed to realise that Mapi took the chair opposite you and watched you draw. Only when her beringed hand reached out for the page, you looked up at her. “Can I see it?“, she asked innocently.

Quickly, you covered your sketches with a hand; “No, I’m not done yet.“ Mapi tried again, giving you her best puppy eyes; “Come on.“ “Later, promise.“ “You should know that I’m very impatient.“, she warned you jokingly. You laughed; “Oh, I’ve noticed.“

“Hey. Rude!“, the defender complained. Ingrid gave her girlfriend a knowing look as she set down three cups of coffee; “No, it’s true.“ Mapis jaw dropped in feigned offense; “Ingrid!“ “Yes?“

But before the couple could continue to bicker, you closed your notebook and wrapped your hands around the mug; “Thanks for the coffee.“ “You’re welcome.“, Ingrid smiled sweetly.

After you tasted the coffee, you announced:” It’s delicious.”   “Do you want to stay overnight?”, the defender asked you curiously. Her and the Norwegian looked expectantly at you when you exclaimed:” Sure. Why not?” “Perfect.”, Ingrid sighed. B

Blushing you mumbled:” “If that’s okay with you.” “It’s.”, the midfielder nodded placing a light kiss on your lips sealing the oral invitation to stay tonight at their place.

Instinctively one hand went to your lips which were still buzzing from the excitement: ”I’ll stay then.” Gleefully Mapi clapped into her hands before kissing you aswell:” We hoped you’d say yes.”

In the morning the Spanish woman noticed, her voice still full of sleep:” Ingrid, she’s gone.”  “Yes, but she left a note with her number, she had to go to uni.”, the younger football player explained, showing her the note you left, on the other side was the sketch you did of them the previous night.

Impressed Mapi whispered:” So that’s what she was working on.” “It’s stunning.”, Ingrid admitted beaming. Suddenly wide awake the defender told her:” Give me her number. I’m going to text her.”  “Here you go.”, the midfielder responded cheerfully.

Pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, the Spanish woman replied:” Thanks.” “Did you ask her to come to our next match?”, a hopeful smile was on Ingrid’s lips.

Cheekily Mapi grinned at her: “Maybe.” More serious she added:” It just feels right with her, right?” “It does.”, the Norwegian nodded, pressing a kiss on to her girlfriend’s head.

Since that fateful night at the bar, you’ve met Mapi and Ingrid quite a few times, so naturally you accepted their invitation to come to one of their game, the defender was still injured, while the midfielder was in the starting line of today’s match.

In a low voice Jana Fernadez spoke to you after you sat down next to her:”Y/N, have you seen the photo of you three in the car going around on the internet?” “What? No, I didn’t.”, you answered stunned by that news.

Seriously the younger woman continued:” You might want to look it up.” “Thanks for telling me, Jana.”, you muttered. She gave you an empathetic smile and a pad on the shoulder:” You’re welcome.”

Only a couple of minutes later Mapi showed up with two drinks in her hands, one for her and the other for you, the defender was quickly followed by Alexia:”What did Jana show you?”

“This, they took photos of us three and put them online.”, you revealed, showing her what Jana had hinted at not that long ago. “Wait, let me see.”, Mapi urged you and took a closer look on what the photos were picturing. “Here.”

Mapis brows furrowed as she took in the clear photo of you three together. There was a hint of worry in her eyes when she turned to you; “I’m sorry. I don’t know how or when they took that.“ “We need to tell Ingrid.“, you decided, too many thoughts rushing through your head.

Again, the defender tried to catch your eye; “Ingrid will be fine but how do you feel about it?“ You shook your head, replying blankly; “I’m good.“ “Are you sure?“ “Yes, what do you think?“, you asked her.

Mapi tilted her head before answering; “I don’t mind people knowing that I’m with two pretty girls.“

“And me neither.“, Ingrids voice interjected. She smiled softly at the two of you, her hair still damp from the shower she took after the game. Mapi laughed; “I told you she won’t mind.“

You were silent for a few seconds, only now realising that these two people loved having you in their lives as you loved having them in yours. “Let’s put our own picture out there.“, Ingrid suggested, turning on the front camera of her phone. You smiled; “Alright.“

“Yes, come here. Let’s take on.“, Mapi said and pulled Ingrid towards her. With you in the middle, the two football player pressed kisses on your cheeks for the photo.

Proudly, Ingrid showed you the shots. “Okay, should we title it Girls Girls Girls?“, you asked with a smirk. The Norwegian smiled back at you; “What’s more fitting than that?“ “Yes, we’ll take that one.“, Mapi agreed, taking her girlfriends phone and hitting the post button.

There was nothing you could do but stare at the two women you had come to love so easily. The buzz of your phone in your pocket tore you out of your trance.

It was the first like on your post and it was from your bartending friend who watched you three leave on the first night you met. With a grin you thought back of the happy coincidences that led up to this moment. It must have been fate.

[glittergroovy]

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 drunk flirting rookanis enjoy 🪶

"Mmm. Tell me more." Lucanis didn't know he could be that suave.

Or maybe he isn't aware of the effect it would have on Rook, clearly taking her wine worse than he his. She inhales audibly, pushes her glass aside by the stand and reaches to take his own from his hands.

"Say that again." She leans in closer.

"What, tell me more?" Another sigh. He slowly realizes its his timbre that thrills her.

"Yeah."

"Tell me more." The sound out of her resembles the blissful sigh at a delicious sauce.

"That may very well be the sexiest thing I've ever heard you say."

"You've said that before."

Rook snorts, moving her flat hand around the tabletop blindly, looking for her glass. She finds his instead.

"Impossible. You've never been this sexy."

"And you've never been this drunk."

"Tell me one other time I've told you that."

"This morning, when I inhaled some of my coffee and greeted you after I'd caught my breath."

"That doesn't count. You had breakfast ready. And you were a little hoarse. Few things sexier than a rough voice, when it's usually all soft and smooth like silk on skin."

The taste of her lips could mislead him into thinking she had the whole bottle all by herself, as opposed to half a glass.

"Have you eaten enough today?"

She whines, instead of an answer.

"Rook..."

"I'm eating! I'm eating, see?"

Why is she this way? Because she's drunk. So are you! I'm buzzed, not drunk. It's not gone to my head. Not yet!

Lucanis reaches for the charcuterie, pulls the board away from the table center, closer to her. She presses the edge of the table into her diaphragm this deep one more time, she'll start to feel nauseous.

"Three grapes and a cube of asiago don't make a meal."

She blindly grabs another fistful from the plate, curling her fingers into the display as if she was kneading dough.

"...It's more than three grapes. Probably."

"Let me get you some bread, at least."

"Noooo-" She almost tips over both glasses, by her fingers and behind her elbow, as she pulls on his hand. "Don't leave. Finish your glass, at least."

She says it as though he could say No to her.

"Fine," he says, and she looks utterly pleased as she returns his wine to him. "But only because I have such sweet and intruiging company."

Rook giggles into her fist. She's flushed so deep it makes the whites of her eyes pop like silver cufflinks on a burgundy shirt.

"I sure hope I'm not a kiss goodbye."

"The only kiss goodbye I want from you is the one we share before we're both headed for the pyre."

Maybe he is drunk after all. He's prone to letting go of his control around Rook, speaking his thoughts and feelings into existence without a care because with her, they'll be kept safe and sound like Andraste's ashes. Though even so, he's rarely as flirtatious as Illario. He feels like the paramour in a mediocre serial.

"Even so. The kiss goodbye was the coffee. You're speaking of the taste of a first kiss. And of those, you can have as many as you like."

"Well, then." Another sip, another grape, before she leans into him.

She has to hold on to him, for stability, not for intimacy. He can see the way the world starts to spin around her in her iris.

If he squints, it almost looks like the brown in them is making way for the green.

"Woah. Maybe I am a little drunk." She empties her glass like it was water after waking at midnight. Then she reaches past the charcuterie board, toward a new bottle.

"Oh?" Rook giggles. "Are we putting Viago to shame tonight?"

"Mmh! Soon as I can get this bottle open."

"Querida, no. Don't do that. You'll knock all your teeth out." He turns toward the corkscrew a little too fast. His own head starts to spin. Spite spins on his toes like a ballet dancer, and a proficient one at that.

"I won't." She doesn't stop trying to pull the cork out with her teeth.

"Daisy." Lucanis didn't know she's a giggly drunk. Her hands slip down from the bottle neck to the body, holding it toward him in a way that does not remind him of Bellara's serials at all.

"Gods, your arms are pretty."

I like her drunk. She's happy. Cozy. Snuggly like a lapdog. We get her drunk. More often! Every day! Wine for water! You want her to live, you protect her liver, too. You're no fun!

"I'm sorry?" He isn't even doing anything. He's barely twisting the corkscrew into the bottle.

She drapes herself across the tabletop, her right arm close enough to walk her fingers up his arm.

"Your arms are pretty. Your arms, and your shoulders, and your beard, and your hair, and your nose, and your big brown wet puppy eyes-"

"Rook, please." He can feel his elbow dig into her flesh as he reaches over her arm and moves to fill their glasses once more. "I'm a grown man. I have doggy eyes."

"Yessss." She drags out the S until their glasses touch and she stops to take a sip. There's a fascinating tangerine note to the wine. He turns the bottle to read the label. Definitely not an Antivan. "Like a mabari, big and wet and brown and round and full of love."

"You know, you don't need to lie to me for me to refill your glass."

"I'm not!" She blows up her cheeks and frowns. It's poorly executed and blushed and glassy-eyed and adorable. "You are pretty! So pretty, and strong and manly. You're so well-proportioned. Your beard makes your lips all shiny and puffy and kissable." Her eyes flick down to his mouth, and as her mind processes her own words, she starts pouting. "All I know is stuff."

"What on earth are you talking about?" He tries to move her hair over her shoulder, to hold her cheek and have her rest her whole head in his palm, but she moves to sit up straight. His hand lands on her arm.

She needs to hold on to the edge of the table. The wine sways precariously in her glass, almost out of it. She'll never get the stains off her pants.

"Brother Benito - you know, from the Orphanage that found me - he used to say that love comes in at the stomach." So does poison, Lucanis thinks foggily. "But I don't know how to bake, or make drinks, and I hate cooking even less." She needs to close her eyes so she can focus on the words coming out of her own mouth. "So I need to give you compliments, and gifts. Ssoo many gifts! So you know I- I care for you." Her eyes are no longer glassy from drunkenness.

SHE LOVES US. Shut it. SHE DOES. That's not what she said. She WANTS TO.

"Aye, querida, I know you do." He takes her glass from her hand once again. Collects both her cheeks in his hands and moves to kiss her forehead. He miscalculates the distance, and his nose collides with her hairline hard enough to make them both make a surprised noise. "There's a reason I don't use your gifts."

"You don't like them?" The way her voice sounds, small and uncertain, tears at him, and Spite in turn tears into him. YOU HURT HER. USE THE GIFTS. The necklace will choke me at best. DEATH BY LOVER. GREATEST DEATH. This is real life, Spite, not a serial.

"I love them," he says, pulling at her until her chin pokes into his shoulder. "I worry they'll break, or that I'll lose them. They're safe in the pantry. I know you've thought of me every time I look at them. And knowing that... it makes me happy."

"Really?" He aims for her temple, though he's not sure his lips find the target. "I don't even do things for you."

"You love to sleep. And yet you stay up with Spite so he doesn't run off. That seems quite a thing done to me."

"You make it sound like I'm fighting him tooth and nail." You'd LOSE.

"You let a demon pull you into my mind, found a broken man and you did not turn away. That is the greatest thing you could possibly do to me." He doesn't quite find her lips. "And you break up my doomclouds every day."

Rook snorts. Lucanis is pretty sure there's some mucus peeking out from under her nose.

"Your existence next to me is the greatest thing you could possibly do for me." He's just said that two sentences before, but it's all the more true the more he says it.

"Stop being so sweet! You'll make me cry, and then I'll throw up on you!"

But she's laughing and aiming her thumb and forefinger around his chin.

🪶

I've not been drunk once in my whole entire life. or in love. or in a healthy functional relationship. lol.

[~rina]

[lovemeafterhrs]

go-go dancer!

i’m your go-go dancer, credit card romancer!

megumi fushiguro x next door neighbor! reader

author’s note: this the longest fic i’ve written in years LMAO.. been deliberating this concept since september

word count: 10.7k

MDNI! all characters are 18+

major inspo: midnight answer by @/hellokittyheat on AO3, go-go dancer and lolita (demo 4) by LDR.

warnings: megumi is sooo sexually frustrated, masturbation, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, double creampie. reader has nipple piercings

listen along:

when megumi fushiguro moved out of gojo’s house at age twenty-one, he did not expect that he’d wind up in this kind of situation. 

he felt like a pervert, wishing that his new neighbor had something darker than sheer curtains. he hadn’t even met you yet, and he’d already seen far more of your body than he should. still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight from the first floor next door. it was like you were teasing him, constantly running around the house in nothing but a lace bra and panties. 

he watched curiously as you threw clothes across the room, obviously irritated as you picked out your outfit. you tutted in annoyance at the lack of options, before finally settling on yet another tiny black skirt. 

you considered it to be drab, uninspired even. megumi however, was raising a brow at the tiny scrap of fabric you were shimmying over your hips. he stood in front of his window, clearly entertained as he watched you bend over in front of the mirror. 

you shrugged your shoulders, content with the way it flattered your ass, at least. 

unaware that you had an audience, you rushed to throw on a low-cut top and find your shoes before you ended up being late. 

if you had known, you probably would’ve risked missing your shift just to see the priceless look on your hot neighbor’s face. 

the front door of your apartment slammed shut as you made your way to the car. he could hear every shuffle of your slippers against the pavement, and he couldn’t help but wonder where you disappeared to every friday and saturday night in such a hurry. 

perhaps he’d ask you, someday. 

if he ever got the guts to talk to you in the first place. 

the first time you introduced yourself to him, he had started to question his own judgment when it came to what he knew about you. you were so kind, and more reserved than he expected. your crimson lips lifted into a gentle smile as you spoke your name, asking for his shortly after. the soft, melancholic melody of your voice met his ears, and it sent a jolt of electricity through his spine. 

it was a far cry from anything he could've expected from peeping through your window. he felt guilty for assuming anything of you, especially when you greeted him with a smile and a plate of warm cookies. 

nobara and yuji thought it was the funniest shit they’d ever seen, watching his cheeks burn with shame as he closed the front door with baked goods in hand. 

it hadn’t helped that you were wearing a low-cut tank top and the tiniest shorts he’d ever seen. he’d spent most of his adolescence relatively sheltered, and he’d never paid the women in his life much mind. 

that all changed a few days later when you practically pulled his face into your cleavage, spinning him around in a crushing hug after he pulled your cat out of a tree.

you had become a consistent presence in his life since you first introduced himself to him, and he now found himself regretting taking those cookies out of your hands on that fateful day. a gentle breeze of vanilla wafted through his nostrils in the gentle spring wind as you spun him around in circles enthusiastically. 

something had changed, he just didn’t know what. you were less withdrawn than before, almost like you had grown comfortable in his presence within a few days. his assumption was mostly true, save for one piece of information. 

you had started to like seeing the blush dusting over his cheeks whenever you spoke to him. you liked it a little too much, it seemed. any intention you had to keep to yourself went quickly out the window when you realized you wanted to know as much as you could about him. 

you couldn’t help but try to get him to open up to you, or look at you for just a moment. 

so as of late, you had been playing it up just a little. you could’ve sworn he saw the hearts dancing around in your irises every time his dark eyes met yours. 

him coming to your rescue in a time of need was just the icing on the cake of the situation. 

you were so grateful for his help, so thankful that he’d been there to save the day. your tone was syrupy sweet as you showered him with gratitude, pressing his arm between your breasts as you led him towards his front door. 

he’d fallen into your trap, he just didn’t know it yet. 

“god. she’s really laying it on thick, isn’t she?” nobara and yuji chuckled amongst themselves. yuji shrugged his shoulders, before picking up your purring calico. 

“can’t help that megumi’s oblivious.” was his reply, followed by another less-than-subtle jab to his friend. “that boy couldn’t take a hint if it saved his life.” 

“that’s a fucking understatement.” nobara mumbled under her breath, waving to the pair as they approached the doorstep. “do you think she’s in over her head?”

“dunno.” he whispered back, scratching gently into your cat’s soft fur. 

they watched you thank him profusely with stars shining in your eyes. meanwhile, megumi was trying really hard to keep his eyes from falling to your tits. 

the entire situation resulted in an onslaught of teasing and laughing as soon as they crossed the threshold of his apartment. 

“your face is red.” his peach-haired friend mocked, plopping himself down on megumi’s sofa. 

“thanks for pointing that out, dickhead.” he frowned, causing nobara to burst into another fit of laughter. 

for a man who was known for being oblivious, even he knew what he was falling into. he didn’t really want it to end, either. however, he was worried about the potential escalation if he didn’t keep himself in check. 

perhaps you were just fucking with him, and it would come to an end when you got bored. there wasn’t any way in hell that you were being serious, right? 

he hoped that this moment would be the worst of it, but he’d soon be proven wrong. 

as spring turned to summer, he started to regret moving out in the first place. it was excruciating to watch you sunbathing in the grass, wearing nothing but a tiny red bikini. you had to be doing this on purpose, he realized. he just didn’t have any proof, and it was driving him insane. 

“megumi!” you called out innocently, beckoning him towards you with sunscreen in hand. fuck. he was so screwed. “i need your help!” 

he let out an audible groan as he crossed into your yard, already knowing what you were going to ask him to do. 

“can you get my back?” your question caused megumi to flush all over, and he nodded after a moment of hesitation. of course he’d be willing to help his friend, even if he thought you were doing this purely to drive him to the brink of insanity.  

you rolled over onto your stomach, your ass on display for him as he tried to keep himself focused. the dark haired man squeezed the tube of sunscreen, warming it up with his hands before his fingers began to move over your back with unnecessary caution. 

you let out a small gasp when his hands pressed into your lower back, rubbing the lotion into your soft skin. he could feel your breathing pick up as his hands traveled up your spine. calloused fingers pressed into the knots woven into your shoulders, then gently passed over your shoulder blades. 

he was trying to be respectful, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting downward. he had to keep tearing his eyes away, and he sighed in relief when he finally accomplished your request. 

he rose to his feet, trying his best to keep his thoughts innocent as you offered a sweet and honest “thank you!” 

he watched you relax into the plush towel laid out across the grass, and nearly stumbled over the ledge of the concrete on his way back to his front door. he turned himself back around, focusing too closely on the ground to keep himself from tripping. 

he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. 

he had been avoiding treading outside after that moment, petrified that you’d appear next to him to taunt him with more of your innocent teasing. 

he couldn’t bear to look at you, overwhelmed with guilt from every time had imagined your cute little smile while he had his dick in his hand. things had gotten too out of hand too quickly, and he didn’t know how to deal with the feeling of attraction to you blooming deep within his gut. 

the next time he caught sight of you, it was approaching three a.m. on a saturday morning. he looked over the railing of the porch, watching your car pull into the parking space across the street. he raised an eyebrow when you got out of the car, not missing the clicking of your platform heels against the pavement. he’d seen you in a lot of revealing outfits, but this time was.. different. he spotted the subtle shine of glitter all over your skin and nearly started drooling when you stopped in front of the door to take off your shoes. 

you leaned down to remove the buckles and he watched in horror as your skirt crawled up the back of your thighs. the seam of the fabric barely covered the swell of your ass, leaving him at a loss for words.

once again, it felt like you were teasing him to death without even trying. 

he wondered where you had been for the last few hours, as he hadn’t seen you leave. you looked tired, but not intoxicated in any way. 

peculiar. 

still, he didn’t pay it much mind as he walked back inside his apartment. megumi looked up at the clock, and let out a groan as he read the time. 

so much for getting up early tomorrow. he frowned, kicking off his slippers as he crawled into bed. 

he went to bed that night dreaming about you bent over in front of him, skirt pulled up over your hips with his hands fisted into your hair.

his beauty sleep was interrupted by the sound of a lawn mower revving next door, and he let out a groan as he pulled his pillow around his ears. 

of course. he sighed, scrunching his nose in annoyance as he stared up at the clock. 

after a few moments of grumbling, he finally pulled himself out of the comfort of his plush bedding. a loud yawn reverberated off the walls of the hallway as he shuffled his way to the kitchen. 

he glared out the window as he filled up the coffee pot with water, only at that moment realizing that the loud noises from the mower had ceased. 

megumi grimaced when he saw you chatting with his sister on your front lawn. she must have dropped by to see him, and couldn’t keep herself from saying hi to his cute neighbor. she’d undoubtedly tease him for it later, and he closed the curtains with a frown. 

around ten minutes later, he heard a knock on his front door. when he opened it, tsumiki’s face was stretched into a large shit-eating grin. 

“i met your neighbor.” were the first words out of his sister’s mouth, not a ‘hi’ or ‘how are you?’ he let out a big sigh as she continued. “she’s cute. really cute.”

“i know what you’re trying to do, and the answer is no.” 

“seriously? you haven’t had a girlfriend in what, ever? and you're telling me you’re not even going to try?” her questioning earned her a frown, followed by a scoff. 

“that’s none of your business, tsumiki.” 

his eyes widened when his sister looked out the window, and a smirk appeared on her face. it was obvious she’d taken notice of the way that his window lined right up with yours. 

“hmm.” was all she replied with, and she took a seat on the couch. “how’s gojo?” she asked, changing the subject that she knew megumi wouldn’t budge on. 

“he’s fine. reeling with separation anxiety, but he’s fine.” satoru had a horrible case of empty nest syndrome, wondering what he did wrong for his adult, adopted children to leave him alone in his gigantic apartment. “you should go see him, he misses you.” 

“absolutely not. he’ll try to convince me to move back in with him. he needs a distraction or something.” tsumiki groaned at the idea, even though she had the utmost respect for the man who had taken them both in. 

instead, she traveled to the kitchen to heat the meal she’d brought for her brother. 

the duo sat in silence, snacking on leftovers as the tv drawled on in front of them. it was nice to have his sister there, even if she spent most of their time together probing him with uncomfortable questions. 

a few hours later, the eldest had left him alone in his apartment once again. 

he rose to his feet and made his way to the kitchen, looking over at the mountain of dishes piled into the sink. he turned on the faucet and took a moment to mull over his sister’s questions from earlier. dishware clinked against the metal of the sink as he contemplated her words. 

he supposed she had a point. what was he waiting for? he’d never given anyone the time of day, let alone had them consuming his thoughts when they weren’t around. you had a particular knack for making him nervous, and he didn’t know how to kick his habit of becoming a stuttering mess around you. 

the thought of you alone sent a blush over his cheeks. his large hands reached to turn off the running water. he took a few steps closer to the dining room table, and his eyes darted towards the open window. 

he couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay and slowly pulled open his curtains to see what was happening across the way. 

you were sitting on the countertop, phone pressed to your ear as you swung your bare legs back and forth. you were having quite an animated conversation, he could tell. he watched you roll your eyes, contemplating words that he couldn’t hear. 

you paused for a moment and hopped off the counter to open the fridge. he sucked in a breath when you leaned forward, giving him a perfect view of your ass. 

“holy shit,” he muttered, putting his hands over his eyes before pulling his blinds closed. 

he was in over his head, and he didn’t know how to deal with your growing presence in his mind. it was almost like his brain was his own personal prison, trapped in a cell and forced to watch an endless reel of the precarious situations you’d put him in. 

the next few days were absolute torture, and the summer heat had made his already building frustration so much worse. you spent hours of the day in the bright sunshine, working up a sweat as you tended to the lawn. your choice of attire made him drool from his seat at the kitchen table. against his better judgment, he got more comfortable in his chair as you leaned down to pull weeds from the garden. 

he wasn’t the only person who was stopped in their tracks when you bent over. across the street, an older gentleman was being pulled by his dog as he stood mesmerized by the sight. 

you looked over your shoulder, catching sight of his dark hair through the window. you snickered to yourself, arching your back as you dug further into the dirt with your hands.

he was playing right into your hands. 

you wiped a bead of sweat off your brow, rising to your feet a few moments later. you made sure to lean in megumi’s direction as you reached for the bag of lawn debris, making him regret sitting down in the first place.  

the next day, he had the misfortune of going out to grab the mail. he hadn’t made it very far before he caught sight of you, causing him to flush.

large sunglasses framed your face as you pruned the shrubs in front of your door, and you gave megumi a small wave when you spotted him on his porch. 

“good morning!” you chirped, a large pair of trimmers in hand as you pulled your glasses up to look at him. it wasn’t anywhere near morning, but you could tell that he had just woken up. his hair was still messy from hours of rubbing against the pillow, and you gave him a little smile as you admired his sleepy features. 

“morning.” he choked out in reply. he tried to keep his eyes off you as he wandered to the mailbox, but he was failing in every sense of the word. 

“any plans tonight?” you called out to him with a grin as you watched him attempt to sneak back into the house. 

“going out with some friends. do you have plans?” he didn’t know if he wanted to know the answer to his question, but he proceeded to ask it anyway. he shamefully had your weekend routine damn near memorized, but had yet to figure out where you went after her car door slammed shut. 

“nope, just working. i’ll see you later?” that caused him to raise an eyebrow, followed by a couple lazy nods of the head. 

he was too busy contemplating your words to think of a reply. he didn’t really have the chance to, either. he looked at the time, groaning to himself as he walked back inside. 

it was already pushing three in the afternoon by the time he managed to pull himself out of bed to grab the mail in the first place. 

he was going out in an hour, and the apartment was trashed. his stomach grumbled angrily, and he let out a sigh as he walked towards the fridge. a frown fell over his features as he stared at the bottle of chili sauce accompanied by nobara’s forgotten wine. he found himself fortunate enough to find some chicken in the freezer, but the lack of vegetables was proving to be rather disappointing. 

great. he grumbled to himself as he closed the fridge with a slam. the cabinet didn’t have much either, save for a couple packets of noodles. he really needed to go grocery shopping, but hated the grocery store more than anything in the entire world. 

so instead, he reached for a pan and went to work browning the chicken. he was thankful that tsumiki had brought a collection of seasonings for him after his first week living alone. at least he had something to offset the taste of freezer-burnt poultry. 

after a while of glaring at the pan, he was finally getting somewhere. he reached for a pot, and filled it with water. unfortunately, he’d filled it up just a tad too much. he groaned at the puddle on the floor, and dropped the pot on the burner with a defeated look on his face.

a towel was thrown onto the ground with a huff, and he grimaced at the feeling of cold water hitting the plush fabric of his socks. he was soaking wet from the collar of his shirt down, and he still had the puddle to attend to.  

the chicken wasn’t anywhere near done, and now he had to change to top it all off. he turned down the stove a bit, and shuffled to his room in an attempt to find something to wear to the club later that night. 

when he returned to the pan about twenty minutes later in a new set of clothes, the chicken was still nowhere close to being golden brown. with a roll of the eyes, he abandoned his post for a moment to turn on the television. 

even then, it wasn’t very entertaining for him. a few minutes passed, before his curiosity got the better of him. he could hear the slow rhythm of the song that he knew was your favorite from across the way, and couldn’t keep himself from walking towards the window.  the curtains were pulled aside to reveal you dancing along to the music booming through your apartment. 

your hips swayed in tandem with the music, and he watched curiously as you stretched your arms up. he watched you bend down to touch your toes, and he watched your body relax as you stretched out your sore muscles. 

it had appeared he had gotten too distracted by your preparations before your shift, as he had completely forgotten about his dinner still cooking on the other side of the room. 

his eyes darted toward the stove when the smell of something burning wafted through his nostrils, and he ran towards the pan in an attempt to save his dinner. 

thankfully the chicken was only partially charred, and he pulled it away from the heat just in the nick of time. he let out a sigh of relief, which was interrupted by yet another distraction from outside. 

“fushiguro! you better have your fucking pants on!” his head snapped towards the door at the loud booming of his friend’s voice, and the door swung open dramatically to reveal a grinning yuji. 

“you’re early.” megumi commented, voice flat as he switched the burner the pot was on. the shorter man took a step closer to the counter, and his grin widened when he spotted the food cooking on the stove.

“looks like i made it just in time.” he chuckled, before moving towards the small table across from the kitchen. “is something burning?”

“not anymore,” was the only reply yuji got. 

the noodles didn’t take very long, and soon the pair were sitting across from each other with a hot meal in front of them. 

they fell into a comfortable silence that didn’t end up lasting very long. 

not when yuji was always too observant for his own good. the tv drawled on behind them, though it was almost impossible to watch it even if they wanted to. the glare from the window had blocked out almost the entire picture.

it was one of megumi’s pet peeves, and that was what caused yuji to finally break the silence megumi had been previously enjoying. 

“huh.” the tone in yuji’s voice was curious, and his friend’s head snapped up to find him staring out the window. “your blinds are open.” 

“what?” megumi looked confused, even though he shouldn’t be. his blinds were usually closed, especially on sunny days like this one. it was a small detail to pick up on, but he didn’t want his friend to put the rest of the pieces of the puzzle together. he took a sip of his broth, eyeing yuji down as he awaited his response. 

“nothing.” the reply megumi got was halfhearted, barely hiding a snicker as yuji finished off his bowl of noodles. 

his closest companion had taken a good thing and thoroughly ruined it. the silence was now incredibly discomforting to be in, even for just a minute. megumi hurried to scarf down the rest of his meal, before rising from his seat. 

“nobara’s gonna kick our asses if we’re late.” was his excuse for suddenly rising to his feet, not that his friend was dangerously close to figuring out that he’d been watching you through his window for months. there’s no way it could be that reason. 

“chill, i gotta fix my hair first.” yuji grinned, noticing how desperate megumi was to change the subject. “nobara’s not even gonna be ready by the time we get there.” 

“i don’t understand why you couldn’t do that at home.” the taller man huffed, taking a peek out the window the moment he heard footsteps heading toward the bathroom. 

yuji had promised tonight would be fun. megumi hated clubs, but he had been convinced to go out just once. it seemed that his next-door neighbor was heading out for the night as well, if the tiny dress you were wearing was anything to go by. 

an odd choice of attire to be wearing to work, if he’d say so himself. still, he didn’t think about it too hard as he threw on a black sweater and got ready to leave. 

“i don’t understand why we have to go to nobara’s so early. the club doesn’t even open until like eight.” yuji grumbled, reaching for megumi’s phone charger as he settled into the passenger seat. 

“she said we have to go to the mall first. something about needing an outfit.”

“fuck, and you said yes? we’re gonna get stuck there for the next four hours.” another loud groan met his ears as he pulled out of his apartment complex. 

and they were, indeed, stuck at the mall for nearly four hours. megumi’s car was stuffed to the brim with shopping bags by the time they were done, and they still weren’t even ready to head out for the night. 

a quick pit stop to kugisaki’s was entirely necessary, as protested by the woman herself. the trio shuffled boxes and bags to her apartment, grumbling the entire time as they braved the treacherous walk up the stairs. 

yuji supposed it was only fair to start the party there. he was already raiding her liquor cabinet before he proposed the idea to the rest of his team. 

the words left his lips with a smirk, and he waved around the bottle of cheap booze in his hand to emphasize his point. the same smirk fell over nobara’s features, and she nodded enthusiastically as she reached for two shot glasses. 

megumi found himself wishing he could participate, cursing himself for saying he’d be the designated driver. his mind was plagued with thoughts of you, and a drink would’ve probably been able to help him forget that. 

still, he let the pair have their fun. a small chuckle left his lips as he watched them grimace at the burn of the liquor. nobara gave him a goofy smile, followed by a thumbs up as she ran to her bedroom to change her clothes.

finally, at about eight forty-five, the trio made their way to megumi’s black buick. the sun had already set far into the sky, and megumi let out another sigh as he turned on the engine. 

the car ride down to the bar was filled with loud singing from yuji and irritated grumbles from nobara as she hurried to change the radio station. they struggled to find parking, resulting in them walking through residential streets to get to their destination. he hadn’t expected it to be so busy, but they found themselves weaving through crowds of people to even find a table. 

the music was far too loud for his liking, and pinks and purples shined through his vision as he finally looked up toward the bar. something had caught the attention of countless patrons, who were tripping over each other with credit cards in hand. 

upon closer inspection, he began to understand what everyone was fussing over. the first thing he saw was your tattoo, which he recognized immediately. as his gaze traveled up your long legs, he couldn’t hide the shock written over his features. 

he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

in a moment, it felt like you were the only dancer scattered across the stage. 

he sat, frozen in his seat as he watched the men around him foam at the mouth as they scrambled to order shot after shot. hundreds of people filled the room, but his eyes kept falling back on you. dozens of strangers were ogling your figure, watching your tits bounce with every sway of your hips. 

you seemed to be enjoying the attention, basking in the fluorescent lights as you continued to move in rhythmatic circles. you kept moving along to the beat of the music, a sultry smile on your lips as suits and ties bowed at your feet. you had a bottle in hand, heels clicking against the wood of the bar as you danced around glasses with ease. 

the expensive tequila in your hand was merely a prop, but it didn’t keep the patrons around him from ordering round after round in an attempt to impress you. a manicured hand came up to fondle one of your breasts teasingly in rhythm with the words of the song playing. 

his jaw dropped when the light reflected against the metal of your nipple piercings, clearly visible through the thin fabric of your dress. he fought the urge to put his head in his hands, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. 

you were obviously a lot more interesting than he originally thought you were.  

“oh, that’s your neighbor.” nobara confirmed his suspicions, a smirk on her face as she watched you drop your ass down to the floor. “you should go see if she’ll give you a private dance or something.” 

“nobara!” that caught his attention, and his head whipped around to grimace at her. 

“what? i’m just saying. it’s obvious you have a thing for her.” ever the instigator, the red-haired woman was not going to back down. yuji nodded along with his friend’s words, and he looked at the pair disappointed. 

megumi didn't move an inch for your entire set, utterly mystified as he watched you dance around the bar. it felt almost as though the stage was meant just for you, pedestaled above the wide varieties of expensive liquor. 

he only snapped to reality when he watched you leave the stage, and he caught your head of hair turning out the back door. yuji hit his shoulder rather abruptly, encouraging him to do the one thing he didn’t want to do. 

he took a deep breath and followed you outside. he turned the corner into the nearby alleyway and found you hiding between couples pressed against the side of the building. he took a few steps closer, recognizing the outfit he’d watched you leave the house in. 

he realized how little he knew about you when he watched you light up a cigarette, leaning against the wall with a long exhale. you looked over at him then, dark eyeshadow framing your eyes as they flashed with recognition. your cheeks turned pink, and you bit your lip with a roll of your eyes. 

your cover was blown. there was no point in keeping up the innocent act now.

it wasn’t often that you told people about your weekend plans, and that was for good reason. you just hoped he wouldn’t act like many other people have before.  

“hey, megumi.” you started casually, flicking ash onto the concrete. 

“hey. wasn’t expecting to see you here,” was his reply. megumi wasn’t a man of many words anyway, but you had shocked him into almost complete silence. he was struggling to get every other syllable out of his mouth, but he couldn’t deny how curious he was about you. 

“ha, i get that a lot. are you having fun?” you looked almost completely unphased, besides the light dusting of rose dusting your cheeks. 

“you could say that. you look good.” his words caused your dark lips to curl into a small smirk. 

“thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.” you replied to him in a breathy tone. now, you were definitely doing it on purpose. you just couldn’t help yourself when he looked so handsome with blushing cheeks. 

“you think so?” he was looking a little sheepish, barely able to keep his thoughts innocent with you flirting so blatantly. 

“i know so.” your reply sent a flush to his poor, overwhelmed face. he watched you lean down, effortlessly putting out the cigarette on the bottom of your heel as you turned to walk back into the club. 

“enjoy the show.” you mused, brushing his shoulder lightly as you passed him. 

and he did enjoy every moment, relishing every sway of your hips until yuji was begging him to take them home. he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol the entire night, but he felt more dizzy walking out of the doors of the club than he did after drinking half a bottle of cheap liquor. 

nobara was too buzzed to notice the longing in megumi’s eyes as they walked back to the car, but yuji wasn’t. he held back a laugh as he wobbled his way down the sidewalk next to his usually stoic friend. 

traffic wasn’t terrible, thank god. nobara didn’t have enough energy left to fight about music choices, allowing yuji to blast whatever garbage he wanted as they drove down the highway. 

after a quick detour to nobara’s apartment complex, he finally managed to trudge his way towards the warmth of his bed. unfortunately for him, every parking spot around the block was taken. he groaned, pulling into the only available space and turning off his car with a huff. 

he was almost in the clear.

the only thing that stood in his way was a treacherous walk to his front door. 

with yuji only two doors down, it made getting home in one piece a whole lot easier. that however, would not keep yuji from prodding him for information, just like his sister would. they were so similar sometimes that it scared him. he knew the look in his friend’s eyes before the words even left his mouth. 

“you’re into her.” megumi was hit with boundless accusations as they walked through the damp grass, starting with that one. 

“no, i’m not.” he countered, choosing denial as his tactic for the situation. 

“yes, you are. you’ve got a major resting bitch face, and i didn’t see it once. you were staring at her like a doofus the entire night.” now that he was pointing it out, megumi supposed it was true. he’d been less angry recently, more sexually frustrated than anything else.  

“that doesn’t mean shit, yuji.” he bit back, not trying to have this conversation ever. he wasn’t looking to admit anything close to liking you, choosing to ignore the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about you even now. 

“really? so you’re telling me you don’t enjoy the fact that she’s always around, shoving her cleavage in your face?” yuji had yet another point. this one earned a rather large scowl. 

“that was one time.” 

“i bet if you asked nicely, she’d do it again.” his friend smirked as he reached his doorstep, and the angry expression made its way back to megumi’s features. 

“shut up.” he mumbled, throwing yuji the middle finger as he turned away to head home. 

it was already far too late for his liking, and he retreated to the warmth of his bedroom within moments of opening the front door. he needed to clear his mind of any and all obstacles that would prevent a good night’s sleep, including the movement of your tits that was now burnt into his memory. 

his head hit the pillow, hoping he’d get a shred of sleep before someone managed to ruin it.  

the clock read just after three a.m. by the time he reached for his phone, as he had been tossing and turning in bed for the last three hours. he rose to his feet, scanning the mess he had left in his room before heading to the club. 

he wondered if his friend was still awake. maybe he’d be willing to help him clean up the gigantic mess he left earlier. 

much to his surprise, yuji responded to his text rather quickly. but that still left one glaringly large problem. 

megumi frowned, piling his clothes into a basket as he made his way to the complex’s shared laundry room. he was so frustrated that nothing was helping, and he couldn’t forget about the metal pierced through his neighbor’s tits. he groaned, turning the corner when he heard the loud rumbling of the washing machine. 

he wondered who was up so late on a saturday doing laundry, but he supposed that he couldn’t judge. he nearly fell over when he saw who was sitting on top of the spinning machine. 

he had to be dreaming.

your eyes were pressed closed, soft gasps leaving your mouth as the laundry rumbled underneath you. a dirty novel was long disregarded next to you, and he wondered what you were thinking about. you let out a low whine as you shifted your hips, lips swollen from biting them in an attempt to keep quiet. 

you were having a hard time keeping your balance over the rumbling machine, struggling to keep your moans hushed as you barrelled closer and closer to release. he watched your hands travel underneath your shorts, reaching for your neglected clit.  

he nearly jumped out of his skin when his basket made contact with the wall, and your eyes shot open at the sound. you stared at him, equally horrified and aroused as he stood cemented in the doorway. 

the pair shared a moment of excruciating silence. your lips parted to speak, but the words died in your throat as you took in his shocked expression. 

before you could address the situation, megumi started to feel his pants getting a little tight. he turned on his heel abruptly, cheeks burning as he shuffled his way back to the apartment. 

the phone in his pocket chimed, and he typed out a rushed response to yuji as he swung his front door open. he couldn’t have his best friend seeing him in such an embarrassing state. 

he had tried to forget your lewd expression, but he couldn’t get the tent in his pants to go down no matter how much he tried. 

guilt burned at his insides as he freed himself from the confines of his pants. his length slapped against his torso, practically begging for some attention. 

he didn’t know how to handle what he had just witnessed. carnal need had started to crawl it’s way up into his chest, and his eyes fluttered closed as he tried to get comfortable on his bed. 

megumi hissed as his hand pressed against the head of his dick, which was already hot to the touch and oozing from the tip. he imagined your tongue running across his shaft, plush lips wrapping around him. he began to rock his hips with the movement of his hand, daydreaming about fucking into your warm mouth. he’d fallen victim to his desire, letting small gasps leave his lips with every stroke of his hips. 

he let out a low growl as he heard a knock on the door, interrupting the movement of his hand. he pulled his sweats back up over his hips, still sporting a gigantic erection as he swung the door open. 

“yuji i told you that you need to fuck off for like twenty minutes, i swear to god-“  his words came to an abrupt halt as he realized who was at the door, and you smirked as your eyes scanned him up and down. 

“hey, neighbor. are you going to invite me inside?” you asked, taking notice of the rather blatant tent in his pants. 

“uh… i guess. i’m kind of in the middle of something-” he flushed, trying to save some semblance of decency. his dick throbbed as you leaned towards him, giving him a full view of your cleavage. 

“i can tell.” he cursed inwardly at your words, trying to ignore the gigantic smirk across your face. “do you need some help?” 

“w-what?” he choked out, the tips of his ears burning. he wasn’t expecting you to be so forward.

“there’s no need to be coy, megumi. i’ve seen you watching me through your window.” you snickered and leaned against the doorframe. 

you’ve got to be fucking kidding. he let out a groan. of course you’d seen him, now you were never going to let him live it down. 

“what were you thinking about?” you continued, watching him deflate in front of you. your curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you took a step closer to him as he struggled to get out his reply. 

“nothing.” 

“doesn’t look like nothing.” you countered, raising a brow as you looked him up and down once again. “were you thinking about me?”

“no.” he grumbled, closing his eyes in frustration. he was trying to keep his eyes off of you, but you were making it damn near impossible. the entire situation was your fault, and now you were at his door making it even worse. 

“are you sure about that?” 

he was convinced you were just teasing him. you couldn’t possibly be serious, could you? 

“you’re doing this on purpose.” he choked out, still not looking at you. he was trying to ignore the loud thumping of his heart in his chest with every word that came from your mouth. 

“doing what on purpose?” your question was sweet and sugary, laced in feigned innocence as you continued. his eyes opened, offering you a glare that didn’t appear too genuine. 

“i’m just trying to help.” you took a step closer to him, and he faltered for a moment. 

“you’re serious?” he asked, and his cheeks burned as he looked down at you. 

“why wouldn’t i be?” was your retort, and he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

“what are you waiting for, then?” 

you raised a brow at his response, curious as to where the sudden determination had come from. the nervous look on his features gave you pause for a moment, and you supposed you should probably take it easy on him. 

“you’re quite confident all of a sudden, aren’t you?” you mused, lips inching towards his. “i wonder if you’ll be able to keep up.”

he didn’t bother to give you a response, only a huff of annoyance as he brought you in for a harsh kiss. one arm wrapped around his neck and the other trailed down to palm him through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. you felt him let out a hiss against your lips at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his length. 

his tongue explored your mouth as you pulled him towards the couch, and you pushed him down lightly as you leaned over him with a smirk. he let out a groan when you sat down on his lap, and you let out a laugh as you brought his lips back to yours. 

the thin fabric of your shorts rubbed against his hard length as you pulled him closer, and you could feel his breathing pick up pace underneath you. your hips slowly began to grind against his, and your efforts earned you a sharp exhale between his kisses.  

his lips didn’t leave yours until he was out of breath. he huffed against your lips as your hands began to wander underneath the soft fabric of his sweater. 

you pulled away to look at the mess you made of him, content with the dazed look painted across his face. his eyes were too focused on your tits spilling out of your shirt to notice that you were pulling his up and over his head. the black sweater was thrown to the floor in haste, and you brought a kiss to each of his flushed cheeks. 

“you’re so cute.” you mumbled dreamily, almost too quiet for him to hear. he offered you a crinkle of his nose in return for your teasing. 

“am not.” the protest was emphasized by a raise of the brow, and he pulled the neckline of your tank-top down to free your breasts. he let out a groan at the sight, bringing one hand up to squeeze the soft flesh in front of him. 

“sure. whatever you say..” you rolled your eyes at his behavior, letting him fondle your chest curiously. long and delicate fingers began to squeeze and grope at your skin. 

an idea crossed your mind as his hands rubbed against the barbells adorning your nipples. your lips met the skin of his neck, and he shivered at the feeling of your tongue swiping over the soft flesh. soft kisses began to travel lower and lower, causing his eyes to widen. 

his hands left your skin when he felt you pulling away, not expecting for you to drop to your knees in front of him. another soft kiss was pressed to his happy trail as you looked up at him with a teasing smile. a shock of electricity shot through his spine when he felt you pulling down the elastic of his sweatpants. 

his dick sprang free in front of your face, and you took a moment to marvel at the sight in front of you. while average in size, his girth was rather impressive. you could feel yourself salivating as one of your fingers ran along the tip. you brought that same finger to your lips, humming appreciatively at the sight before wrapping your hand around the base. 

if you weren’t so absorbed in your own little world, you would’ve seen the shocked expression spreading over megumi’s flushed features. he felt your hand pass from base to tip a couple times, and he let out a groan. that caught your attention, and you met his stormy blue irises with a pout on your lips. 

“you okay up there, ‘gumi?” you teased, running your hand up and down his shaft gently as your warm breath fanned against his skin. 

“sorry i’ve just.. never done this before.” he replied quietly, trying to level his breathing as he averted his eyes from you. 

“that’s okay, just let me know if it’s too much.” your tone was gentle and kind, much like the first time you two met. his eyes met yours again, confusion written all over his features. 

“what do you- oh…” he gasped out, and a shiver ran down his spine as he felt your lips wrapping around the tip of his dick. he was trying not to keel over, knuckles turning white from his harsh grip on the side of the couch. obscene slurping noises filled his ears, and he looked down to find your eyes staring right back at him. 

he had to avert his eyes to keep himself from cumming right then and there, but his eyes kept falling back to you no matter how much he tried. 

you wanted him to see it all, feel it all. 

he didn’t know if he’d be able to last if you kept it up. a hand fell over his eyes in an attempt to keep himself from looking, but one lick of your tongue along the underside of his dick was enough to have him peeking through his fingers. 

you look so cute with your mouth full, he mused. it was embarrassing how quickly he was coming undone in the wetness of your mouth, and he was trying not to let out a whine as you swallowed down more of his shaft. 

something deep inside of him told him not to let it end here, and he gently tapped your cheeks with a loud and whiny huff. you released your lips with a pop, saliva dripping from your lips as you pulled away. 

“everything okay?” you asked, concern lacing your features as you held onto his thighs. 

“yeah.. just need..” a loud groan reverberated off the walls of his living room as you bit down on the skin of his thigh. 

“just need.. what?” you teased, batting your big doe eyes up at him from your position on the floor. “tell me what you want, ‘gumi.” 

“i want you. i need you.” he replied breathlessly, pulling you in for a sloppy, desperate kiss. he grabbed your hips harshly so he could pull you back onto the couch. 

you could feel his toned chest against yours as he leaned over you. he swallowed hard, contemplating his next words. 

“show me how to make you cum.” the words were more akin to a demand than a plea, but you couldn’t deny his curiosity. his hands reached for your shorts, pulling them to your ankles with ease. “wanna hear you scream.” 

your eyes widened, and you gave him a nod as you reached for one of his hands. you led his fingers down to your panties at an excruciatingly slow pace, and his hand left yours to take matters into his own hands. he pulled them off with a huff, staring into your eyes as he tested the waters. 

he raised a brow at you, reaching to pull your thighs apart as he sat between them. “you’re just teasing me now.” he grumbled at your antics, taking note of your actions from earlier as he leaned down to run his tongue along your slick folds. he lapped up your juices eagerly, passing over your clit repeatedly as he explored between your legs. 

he got more comfortable between your thighs, palming the flesh of your ass tightly and spreading your legs further apart. a soft moan left your lips when his tongue settled on your clit. he urged forward, desperate to have you whining and begging in his hold. 

a tempo was found with relative ease, and he grinned into the flesh of your thighs as you bucked your hips against him. 

a soft hum left his lips in approval when he heard you gasping underneath him. he supposed he had to be doing something right, considering how you were reacting to every swipe of his wet tongue. 

he continued his ministrations, now more confident in his ability to please you. a long finger prodded at your entrance curiously, feeling you dripping with desire from just a few minutes underneath him. 

gasps quickly turned into moans as one of his long digits sank into your plush walls. the sound made him look up to find you flushed from the neck up. 

he wanted to see just how far he could take it. 

his middle finger joined his index, and he developed a slow rhythm that had you shaking within minutes. every positive response was only inticicing him further, and his eyes glazed over in determination as the pads of his fingers passed over your g-spot. 

you had to admit, he was a quick learner. 

the moment that he heard the first pitched “fuck.” leave your mouth, he became determined to hear it again and again. 

he grinned against your clit as he felt your muscles clenching around his fingers. loud moans met his ears as he picked up the pace. he had you seeing stars far too quickly, and he had no intention of letting up until you were begging him to stop. 

the kitten licks to your cunt had become harsh sucking motions, and his tongue swirled around your clit with a certain precision that had your toes curling and your legs shaking. 

you let out a broken cry as you came on his fingers, but he still hadn’t stopped the motion of his tongue. he drank up every whine that left your mouth as you shook with overstimulation. 

he was just teasing you now, relishing in the way your thighs clenched around his head as you gasped and writhed under him. you supposed it was his revenge for the months of teasing, and you found yourself relenting as you pulled his lips away from your abused clit. 

“what? too much for you?” he smirked, and you lowered your eyes at him as you pushed him back against the couch. 

“not even close.” as soon as he heard the tone of your reply, he knew he was in for trouble. his eyes widened as you pulled yourself into his lap, straddling his hips as you leaned in to bring your lips to his. he groaned into the kiss as he felt his length rubbing against the soft skin of your stomach. 

your lips left his for only a moment to test his resolve even further.

“have you had enough yet?” you teased, causing him to wrap his hands around your hips. your lips pulled into a smirk as you pulled yourself up and wrapped one hand around his dick. 

he let out a groan when he felt the tip rubbing against your wet folds, which turned into a whine when his dick made contract with your entrance. shaky fingers dug into the flesh of your ass as you eased down on his length. 

“holy fuck.” he gasped out, earning a smirk from you. he felt you wiggle your hips against him, and he could feel every muscle in his body crying out for release as he finally bottomed out inside of you. 

“what? too much for you?” you found yourself parroting his response from earlier. something darkened in his eyes the moment that the words left your mouth. 

his grip on your ass tightened, and you watched the muscles in his arms strain as he pulled your hips up. you wrapped your hands around his neck as he pushed you back down. a shaky gasp left your mouth as you started to rock your hips in tandem with the movement of his hands. 

manicured nails scraped against the skin of his shoulders with every stroke of his hips. your hands fell to his chest, pushing back against him in an effort to rut yourself in time with his movements. he pressed forward, capturing your lips with his in the midst of your passionate embrace. his kisses began to travel down to your neck, turning into bites over the course of a few minutes. his breath caught in his throat when he felt your walls squeezing him, and he couldn’t help but try to elicit more reactions from you.

you let out a sharp gasp when he started sucking on your skin, leaving bruises growing in his wake. he pulled away a few moments later, taking in every small detail of your blushing face.

your lips were swollen once again, matching the same shade from earlier. this time, he was the reason you were struggling to keep yourself quiet. he couldn’t get enough of it. 

it was growing impossible for him to keep himself composed with your tits bouncing in his face every time you moved your hips. in an effort to keep the moans from spilling from his mouth, his lips wrapped around one of your perky nipples as he rocked against you. his tongue lapped against the metal piercing, shortly followed by a gentle bite. 

his efforts earned him a pitched moan, and he felt the muscles in your thighs twitching as he held onto them tightly. the couch creaked with every harsh thrust, mixing with the moans that were reverberating off the walls of the apartment. he was sure he’d get a noise complaint in the mail the next day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

he paused when he felt your hips falter, raising a brow as he watched you struggle to keep up with the movement of his hips. 

“and you were worried that i wouldn’t be able to keep up.” it was almost like megumi was gloating, but you couldn’t be too mad at him. after all, you loved the way his dick was hitting deep inside of you. the movement of his hips came to a halt, causing you to let out a whine as the head of his dick brushed against your g-spot. 

“shut up and fuck me, megumi.” you croaked out, lowering your eyes at him in an effort to get him to do something, anything.  

in an instant, his strong arms were pulling you from his lap. your mouth opened to protest, but the words never got the chance to leave your mouth. all it took was your back hitting the cushion of the couch to hush any complaints from you.  

he smirked at your silence, hiking one of your legs over the side of the couch and holding onto the other by the crook of the knee. he spread you apart once again, and slid himself back inside of you with a long sigh. the new position made your eyes resemble saucers, and you let out a cry as he started moving his hips again. every thrust pressed hard against your g-spot, and you were seeing stars behind your eyelids every time your eyes fell shut. 

“look at me.” he demanded, grabbing onto your chin and pulling it up towards him. your eyes snapped open, meeting his azure ones. he felt you clench again, causing his smirk to turn into a cheshire grin as he picked up the pace of his hips. 

every thrust was hitting so deep inside of you, and you could hear the harsh sound of skin slapping reverberating off the walls. you were so close to the edge – barely holding on as he continued to push himself into the dripping wetness between your legs. 

the muscles in his arm strained once again, and he pushed your knee up further towards your head. his grip on the inside of your knee tightened, signaling that he was just as close to release as you were. his free hand found its way to your clit, and you let out another loud whine.  

that was ultimately your undoing, and all sense of decency went out the window as you scratched into the skin of his back. you brought him in for a harsh kiss, and he let out a loud groan against your lips as you tightened around him. 

you came so hard that you felt dizzy, still holding onto the kiss for a moment longer. the feeling of your insides constricting on him made it almost impossible for him to pull out, and he was so distracted that the thought didn’t even cross his mind. 

well, not until after you felt thick ropes of his cum filling you with warmth. 

“fuck.” you both said at the same time, eyes wide as you shared a moment of realization. you both silently came to the conclusion that it would be a problem for tomorrow, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek as he finally slowed the movement of his hips. 

his grip on your thighs loosened for a moment, and he looked down on you softly. he took a minute to catch his breath, eyes darting over the growing bruises all over your skin. 

“c’mon, the couch is uncomfortable.” he grumbled, lifting you up by the thighs and taking you to his bedroom. you let out a giggle as he carried you towards the bed, and your head hit the pillow with a soft plop. a smile came over your features as you pulled him down with you. his body pressed against yours for a moment, before he moved to settle behind you. 

large, veiny hands made their way around your midsection. he held you close, pressing his back to yours and running soft kisses along your shoulder. you melted into his touch, offering him a pleased hum as you settled into the mattress. 

you looked back at him adoringly, gaze softening even further as his hair tickled your forehead. kisses turned to bites once again, and you let out a small laugh when you felt his hard length pressing against you. 

“sorry.” he grumbled, and you looked at him curiously. you turned around to face him with a soft grin plastered over your cheeks. 

“don’t be sorry. i just think it’s cute.” you replied, pressing a kiss to his temple as you pulled him closer. 

“not cute.” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. you pulled one of your legs over his hips, giving him a knowing look. he felt his dick rubbing up against your entrance, still dripping with his cum. 

you offered him a gentle kiss as you slid your folds against the tip, before slowly pressing him inside. 

“fuck. i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of that.” he gasped out, holding onto your hips as you slowly began to rock against him. you offered him a shaky laugh in reply to his hushed words. 

the bed began to creak underneath you, and his hips started moving along with yours. it wasn’t long before the bed frame was smacking against the wall, guaranteeing a complaint from the neighbors the next day. 

he didn’t have much concern for it in the moment, too occupied with the way that you were pulsing around him. his large, veiny hands found purchase fondling your tits, squeezing and rubbing the supple flesh with his calloused fingers. 

you weren’t going to last very long if he kept it up like this. especially with one of his hands leaving your tits to run across your clit. 

“fuck, you feel so good.” his deep, gravely admission met your ears as his head fell against your shoulder. 

you squeezed around him again, basking in the meticulous rhythm of his hips. that caused him to bite down on your shoulder as a warning. 

“can’t be doing that.” he huffed against your skin. an unexpected groan left his lips when he felt you clenching him again. “fuck, i’m gonna—” 

one particularly harsh thrust had you coming undone right along with him, and you let out another pitched whine as his fingers continued to circle around your clit. 

you rode out your high together, before his movements finally came to a halt. 

you felt him relaxing into your chest with his face pressed between your breasts. finally worn out and more than content, megumi felt his heartbeat slowing as the smell of your perfume wafted through his nostrils. his eyes began to flutter closed, comforted by the warmth of your skin. 

you were exhausted, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your features as you wrapped your arms around him. your eyes fell shut, listening to the slow drum of his heart as if it was a lullaby meant just for you. 

megumi let out a loud yawn, and opened his eyes. to his disappointment, the space on the bed next to him was empty. he could still smell your perfume wafting through the air. 

a small frown settled over his features as his feet met the cold floor of the hallway, but he froze in his tracks when he saw you making coffee in the kitchen. 

“what’s with the frown? did you think i left without saying goodbye?” you smirked, looking him up and down as you leaned against the kitchen counter. 

you made a fucking mess of him, you could tell. his head of normally messy hair was sticking up in all kinds of places, and it was the worst case of bed-head you’d ever seen. your lips pulled into a smile as your gaze fell down to his neck, admiring the love bites scattered across his clavicle. 

he took a step closer to you, rolling his eyes as he offered his reply. “i was hoping you didn’t. i wasn’t done with you yet.” 

“oh, yeah? can’t get enough?” you snickered and pulled him closer to you. he puffed out his cheeks at your playful words. his cheeks were still flushed, and you loved how responsive he was to your teasing. 

you were enjoying the sight in front of you when the front door opened, revealing a very smug yuji. 

“i fucking knew it!” he yelled, pointing a finger at his friend in an accusatory manner. the taller man frowned, shutting the door in his face before turning back to you with a sheepish smile.

[unknownn-girl]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ go go dancer, midnight answer

[liillyliilly]

Go-Go Dancer

kenji sato x reader words; 1737 synopsis; she's an unattainable go-go dancer, he's just a baseball player.

Neon gold lights. Thigh highs and swinging hips with dangling belly-dancing chains. Midnight answers desiring to be claimed. Nothing can go wrong in Las Vegas, even if only for a night of faked immortality and shaken resolve.

Kenji Sato can’t help it if he has a sweet tooth for just one girl that he has to fly out every month for.

He tried asking if she’d fly out to him once but she just licked her cherry lollipop, rolled her eyes, and gave him a flat, “No.”

Sitting on a long, L-shaped couch, he crosses his legs, uncrosses them, and then crosses them again repeatedly. A glass of sugary cocktail is glittering blue and green. His black button up is undone, exposing his chest and the beginnings of his abdomen. Dressy suit pants clash with the snake-skin shoes he wears.

It is a mixture of business and pleasure. Baseball would always be the official reason he visited Vegas. He took up an assistant coach position for a team here, for the off season from his position at the Yomiuri Giants.

But he was never out at the ballpit later than ten at night, he came here instead.

Here was where his little go-go dancer was.

She laughs the most, out of all the dancers. Probably due to the amount of candy she eats when she dances. Suckers, licorice, chocolate pieces, sour gummies. Anything that she could have, she’d consume. It was her schtick, her selling point. After fifteen minutes of dancing at a time, she sit on the edge of the stage, chewing candy and kicking her feet as people tried to talk to her. She’d playfully shake her head and wiggle her finger, turning her head around to cheer for her friend who was dancing.

He liked that she did go-go dancing, it was light-hearted, energetic and bubbly. It wasn’t always purely to satiate his craving to see her in skimpy get-ups, but instead to see her having genuine fun spinning around and running her hands from her shoulders to her hips to her knees. If he was in a rut, he’d just need to watch her throw her head back and giggle when another dancer would tug on her arm so they could tango a little.

After the show was when they could be alone, sitting in a nook in the club.

Neither of them wants to talk first. Neither will talk first. He slides a stick of gum across the counter, and she starts to chew it. Blowing a hot pink bubble in his direction, he pops it with his pointer finger. The laugh in response causes her shoulders to shift from the way happiness crawls up from her lungs to her mouth.

“Thanks for the gum.”

“Thanks for the dance. You know I can pay my own entry fee right?” He leans into her, and she pushes him back a little with her hand. She always covered his payment when he would come to see her.

Kenji calls over a waiter and orders some glasses of water, and a plate of chicken nuggets.

“Oh! And some house salad, you know I like the way you make it Petey!” She grins at the waiter who nods his head and adds it to his sheet of paper. Kenji waves him off.

The blaring music keeps going, and the flashing lights give him a slight migraine. When he rubs his temple to relieve the pressure, she uses her hand to cup his face and uses her thumb to replace his hand easing away the headache.

“Your boyfriend doing good?”

“Hm, he’s alright. He’s getting boring now.” She slides closer to him, and Kenji rests a hand on her thigh. The sheer nude fishnets an abrasive texture under his fingers.

Kenji tilts his head forward a little, invading her personal space. “I’m not boring, am I?”

“No. But you’re always so safe, so clean, so pristine.” She mutters a little, brushing her lips against his cheek. He liked it when she spoke in threes. “I like it when you’re a little messy.”

“Messy?”

She kisses him, and he kisses back. He moves a hand behind her neck, pushing her into him. She curls her fingers through his soft black hair, appreciating the slight cage of gel he put into his finger. Running her fingers through the fringe broke the shell and his flyaways were back and ticking her face again and she hummed into the kiss.

He goes down, kissing her jaw hotly, leaving wet traces of his mouth along her skin. The sounds she makes become his melody- he wants it as the ringtone in his phone. She wiggles her hips a little and he pulls her onto him.

Pushing the table away a little, she slots between the counter and his chest. He keeps a hand on her neck, bringing his other hand to press the small of her back, forcing her to get nearer.

In a tease, she eases her stance from her knees that lifted her up. Firmly, her hips are on top of his. She bites his neck as she rolls her hips over his, barely missing the heat between his legs. He groans and lets his head lull on top of the built in couch.

He’s shivering a little, trying to keep his hips from stuttering or his stomach from tightening.

The waiter comes back and sets the food onto the table with an awkward chuckle, Kenji just slides his credit card across the table and huffs.

Once he can put his card back into his wallet, he tries to go back to kissing her on the mouth. But she’s already crawling off of him and eating a bite of croutons, with a single piece of lettuce.

Kenji snickers, getting a drink of his water, letting his attention go to how she watches his Adam’s Apple bob with the swallowing he does.

He bites the head off of his chicken nugget, dinosaur shaped.

“Don’t get too messy, okay?” She pouts at him and he nods.

Once the food is clear, water is drunk, and shirts smoothed out. She tries to say goodbye.

“Same time next month yeah?” She twists a loose strap from her top, a leather piece that’s attached by clasps to just dangle against her torso.

Kenji grabs the strap and pulls her into him. The entrance has people trying to scooch around them to get in, so Kenji brings the pair of them out of the club to stand by the bored bodyguard. She’s tracing shapes on his stomach with her fingernail, and it tickles him. So once he makes a disapproving noise, she rests her hand flat on his chest.

“I’ll be back in two months, I have more work in the next few weeks.”

She clicks her tongue, not looking at him. “You’re going to forget all about me Jiji.”

The nickname was silly, but he liked it more than he’d ever care to admit.

“Never.”

How could he ever forget his go-go dancer?

Two months later, he feels stung. She’s sitting in someone else’s lap. When she sees him, and knows she’s been caught she clambers out of the girl’s lap, leaving the girl hot faced and with glossy, puffed, bright purple lips.

He does the only thing he can see as reasonable, leaning against a corner wall. She bounds up to him and tries to explain, tries to find a way to describe why she didn’t respond to any of his texts in the last week.

She tugs on his hair a little, trying to demand his attention.

She had to admit that while Kenji had her pressed up against the wall, he was kind of hot. But him being hot didn’t empty out the fuel that she wanted to add to his delicious anger that was radiating off of him like steam from soup.

Leaning against the wall, she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. “All this anger, and just because of a little tug on your hair?” Kenji pressed his lips into a thin line, there was a prominent vein protruding from his neck, and his ears were so red she thought they were comparable to a strawberry. She wanted to see how much further he was willing to go.

“How pathetic.” She spat out. Trying to escape his hold on her against the wall.

In an instant his lips were against hers. Smashing pressure against her lips, his hands went straight to cupping her ass, his chest and hers pushed together before he lifted her up. Taking the hint, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Maybe she should have felt more shame for making out with Kenji in the middle of the day in a barely empty club that was playing house music.

But what's the fun in that?

Sloppy wet kisses trailed from her mouth to her jaw to her neck. He kissed her like a man starved of his last meal while on death row. He kissed like she was going to disappear in an instant. He moved to rest her body against the window ledge, laying her down on her back as he hovered over her.

Tugging her loose t-shirt off, leaving her in a strappy blue costume bandeau, he tainted her skin by kissing her torso and chest in every part where she had exposed skin. His hands went to hold her thighs down against the ridge of the ledge. Looking up at her with hooded eyes, Kenji bit down hard on her neck. When she let out a moan at the pleasurable pain, he spoke up.

“Look who’s pathetic now.”

She hugs him. And he keeps his face in her neck, letting his breath catch up to him. His panting leaves condensation on her skin. They’re in his hotel room and under the thin white sheets.

There was no being blase about her, no nonchalance left in his body for her.

“There’s go-go dancing in Tokyo.”

“I know.”

“Just a thought.”

“I know.”

After that night, they never see each other again. She had moved out to New York, and deleted his number. He tried to find her, but none of her past co-workers would expose her contact information or new address. There was nothing much he could do but mourn the loss and move on.

Nothing more than a fling with a go-go dancer.

[lanadelreyretroaesthetics]

I drop it like it's hot on the pole, on the pole

Shining in the club, neon gold, neon gold

They call me "Firecracker" and alcohol's a factor

I drop it like it's hot, baby bold, baby bold

A little bit of fun for your soul, for your soul

They call me "Firecracker", 'cause ain't nobody faster

I'm your go-go dancer, midnight answer

Jukebox sweetheart, queen of the night

Vegas baby, if you pay me

Anything you like, anything you like

Go-go dancer, midnight answer

Jukebox sweetheart, Queen of the night

Vegas baby, if you pay me

Anything you like

Go-go-g-go-go dancer tonight