#goth!geto

Your short, pink skirt flowed together with a shaking leg, white shoes hugging your skin up till knees and one heel tapping pissed off with a long stiletto onto the ground. You went through your phone again, looking for a ticket Shoko had sent you.

It was the third time you've tried to ask yourself why the hell you agreed to her pleadings.

You didn’t even listen to emo (wait no, goth? punk?) music and honestly couldn’t care less about the favourite band of your friend coming to the town. Being friends with a weirdo like her was truly enough, bearing all her dreary outfits and depressing music, makeup which made her look ready to lie in a coffin, and other freaks she hung out with.

However, Shoko was relentless in her begging — almost praying on her hands and knees, promising to join you for a shopping spree she hated so much and even letting herself be invited for one of those sleepovers with your other friends she absolutely despised.

Because, after all, all the differences between you both couldn’t win against the power of your long friendship and being best friends since you taught her how to use eyeliner in middle school. You were her closest friend, and because all of her other creepy buddies didn't listen to this band, you ought to fulfil your best-friend duty and join her for a concert. She even bought you tickets, doing everything in her power just to drag your ass here. Her cute, bimbo friend, standing currently in front of the club like a freak dressed in an outfit those scarecrows surely labelled as whorish.

"Listen, one of the guys I’ve met inside said his friend will get you. He should be there soon." 

So you did meet someone! Why the hell am I still needed?

Questions bubbled in your throat, but if you already dragged your ass here, there was no point in not joining her for probably the worst night of your life. 

Heavy sight slipped your lips, eyes following the mess in front of you. People dressed in long, black coats, faces white as death, some of them with piercings in almost every corner of their lips, drinking and smoking in groups, glancing towards the lamb, a lost kitten waiting for her rescue. You caught a faint whiff of grey smoke, rubbing your eyes and throat. 

It seemed that the supporting band had already started playing, with heavy, depressing music becoming even louder and screams on the other side of the line fully muffling Shoko’s voice.

"Will he know what I loo—" but before you could ask, someone tapped your shoulder.

You glanced back, hair swaying with a turn of your head, forehead furrowed in annoyance and throat still burning from all the smoke.

"What do you want, freak?" Your voice came out harsher than you intended, but your head was already pulsing from all the noise, and those trashy bitches still looking your way!

And right behind you stood a guy – at least a head taller and dressed in heavy black clothing. Long hair dripped down to his chest, a few strands tucked behind an ear, with a white-painted face and black makeup edging eyes, looking as if swirling down his cheeks.

You seized him with your eye, up and down, from long legs to broad shoulders, as you pushed your hips to one side and gracefully placed on them your pink nails.

His brows furrowed, dark eyes glancing between your plumped tits in a white, tight top and glittery lips. You noticed a piercing in his nose and two pointy snake-bites, glistening from beneath his black lipstick.

"Hello?" You asked once again, seeing his throat moving.

"Apparently, your friend asked me to bring you inside, ummm," he finally choked out, taking phone out. You've caught multiple rings hugging his long fingers, as he turned the screen your way. "Look for a bambi and bring her inside, that’s the message I’ve got." He peeked at you again, eyes tracing your outfit with a raised eyebrow. "I guess he meant bimbo."

This fucker.

"That’s you?"

You snorted, catching him fidgeting under your gaze. "See anyone else looking like a doll?"

He, once again, glanced at you, leaving his gaze a bit longer on a long necklace sitting warmly between your plush tits and long stilettos, definitely not proper to wear for a concert.

"I don’t think so," he murmured, a faint sigh escaping his lips. "I’m Suguru, by the way."

He moved forward, taking you right to the long line in front of the entrance.

Crossing hands on your chest, you mumbled your name. A sudden shudder going through your spine when warm wind grazed the skin.

Maybe your outfit indeed was too light for this weather.

Suguru stood in front of you – tall and broad, with a long coat hugging his back tightly, heavy boots clutching legs up to his calves, filled with so many metal accessories, a faint clacking filled the air every time he took a step.

But somehow, he stood out among the other freaks in a line, with his sharp jaw and intense gaze. Corners of his black lips turning in a smirk, seeing your pouty lip and body moving closer to his, just to get a bit of warmth.

"So," he started, moving slowly together with a line. "Why exactly are you here?"

You sighed, tucking a lost strand of hair behind your ear. "My stupid best friend said she had no one to go with. But as it turned out, she already met someone, well, your friend, and I don’t know why the fuck I’m still needed."

He chuckled, seeing how, nevermind of your furrowed brows and eyes sending thunder his way, your body moved even closer. The evening was warm, but you shivered when a gust of wind skimmed your skin again.

"People usually go to such concerts alone. It's not uncommon to meet someone already inside," you moved in line, your heels two steps behind his heavy boots, people slightly pushing you from the back. He grabbed your arm and moved you to the front, covering your figure with his muscular body and long, black coat. "Try to stay close till we don't find them. Their concerts tend to be quite intense, I would say."

There was something within him that still pushed you away, the eariness of his white face and black pain surrounding his purplish eyes, but you nevertheless appreciated the gesture. His hand was heavy on your shoulder when he pushed you forward, showing the bodyguard your tickets.

The man looked at you first, with eyes wandering over your body, staying a bit longer on pushed out breasts and plump lips covered by a lip gloss. He smiled disgustingly, leaving you with a frown and words, the fuck you're looking at, creep, bubbling in your throat. Your shoulders tensed under Suguru's hand, but he quickly forced you inside, seeing long tips of your fingers clenched in a fist.

"Please try not to start fights with people twice bigger than you," He said and chuckled, hearing your groan.

"If I won't fight for myself, who will?" You murmured, going further into the club. It was darker than you expected, with a narrow corridor taking you directly to the bar and main scene, music blasting from the speakers and dimmed light not helping you walk in these hills at all.

"I would," He said it so casually, with his hand still loosely placed on your shoulder and eyes glued to something in front. "If he put his fingers on you, I would gladly break them."

A faint oh fled your lips, soft rosiness may or may not have bloomed on your cheeks, with a club, thank god, being too dark to let this freak notice.

You walked right next to him, with his muscular arm at some point hugging your waist and pulling you closer, when his tall body started to push through the dense, drunk crowd, jumping, yelling and wringing their bodies to a supporting band playing on a small stage. The inside of the club was worse than you expected, with cigarette smoke rubbing your teary eyes, plastic cups crinkling on the sticky floor under your heels, and furrowed, pierced brows peeking your way. Oh, you will make Shoko pay for taking you through this hell.

But as much as you hated it, with a trashy music bugging your ears and terrifying faces jumping on you from every corner of the room, something warm coiled in your belly when Suguru brought you a bit closer, tighter, his fingers pushing into the bare skin of your waist and musky smell hugging you tightly. Eyes glanced down at you every few seconds, black lips curling in a smirk, seeing how lost you've felt.

"What are you looking at, freak?" you choked out, rosiness not leaving your cheeks even for a second.

"You good there, bambi?" He chortled, but you didn't answer, tracing the crowd around you just to find Shoko.

"There," Suguru pointed out at the bar on the other side of the room, with Shoko and some guy sitting on stools. They whispered something to one another, the guy's space-buns shaking when he laughed, looking so stupidly you wanted nothing but to groan and roll your eyes.

You stepped slowly, with Suguru's arm on your waist and long hair grazing the top of your head, black ends almost tickling your cheek, when the crowd squeezed you a little tighter.

"Go on bambi, we need to push forward," He whispered straight to your ear, voice faint against the band's music, nevertheless low enough to make your stomach twist.

Oh, dearly you regretted dragging your ass to this fucking concert!

"Y/n, finally, you're here!" Shoko quickly grabbed your hand, taking you away from Suguru's embrace and pulled you into a quick, giggly hug.

She was already drunk.

"Here, meet Choso!" She pointed at the guy sitting next to her, with makeup not that different from Suguru's. His pale lips twisted in a polite smile, eyes looked at you shyly, tracing the outfit with a quite amazed gaze.

"You would surely bully me in high school," He choked out, making Shoko giggle while you rolled your eyes.

"She wouldn't! We've been friends for sooo long, she's actually nice," Shoko said, forgetting to add that you, in fact, tolerated only her, always keeping yourself away from similar weirdos on your campus, while Suguru pushed something into your hand.

You didn't even notice when he ordered drinks, fingers grazing yours when you took the glass.

"By the way, thank you, Suguru, for bringing her inside," Shoko said, head slightly tilted on one side, fingers clasped around an already empty glass. "I was so scared she would go back home!"

"I have no idea why I didn't do it," you murmured, taking a sip of probably the worst beer you've ever had. Your nose scrunched in a little frown, shivers dripping down your spine, while Suguru quickly took the glass out of your hand.

"Here, I must've mixed them up. This one's sweeter."

You pushed out a muffled thanks, covering reddened cheeks with your hair. And when you took a sip, deliciously honeyed liquor dripped down your throat, tasting refreshing like a mix of the sweetest fruits.

"Not bad." You mumbled, getting a low chuckle.

And for this whole time, Shoko was looking at you. No, staring. With her black eyes squinted, the corners of red lips twisted, fingers tapping on freshly replaced beer brought by Choso.

"I think you will reaaaally enjoy the concert," she giggled, getting a don't even think about it look from you. "I mean, what other plans did you possibly have?"

"I dunno, Gojo's having a party today," you bubbled, feeling Suguru's heat behind you. The crowd was getting denser, with more people coming to the bar, so at some point, his chest grazed your back slightly.

"Gojo?" Choso dropped in, pierced eyebrow lifting. "Satoru?"

"Yeah, this fuckhead from our university," she added, heavy scoff leaving her lips. "He's been clinging to y/n like a limpet. Probably infected all his whores with an ST–" but before she finshed drunkily, her eyes quickly landed on you. "Oh, sorry. Not including you."

You ignored Shoko's words, whore label stuck to you since the first semester, and focused on another issue that she somehow forgot to mention. "You know him?"

Choso looked at your friend, then Suguru, and lastly you, sending you a look that meant only one thing. "Yeah? We're at the same university."

"Oh," you muttered. "Amazing."

Suguru's chest was still warm as he stood behind you, with a steady presence, almost amused. Choso took a slow sip of his drink, looking as if trying to recall something.

"We've seen you before," Suguru dropped casually.

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"On a campus," he clarified. "Main building? You're always by the fountain with your group."

Your stomach flipped, fingers squeezed the glass. "You've noticed it?"

Choso huffed softly. "Hard not to."

"Wow," you deadpanned, gaze going back at him, with a raised eyebrow and slightly pushed out hip. "Didn't know Addams Family did field observations."

Shoko snorted into her glass, while Suguru's chest trembled with a low chuckle.

"You dropped your pen once, actually. Pink one, with a fluffy top." He said. "You didn't even look at me when I picked it up."

Your throat clenched on a sweet beer, face suddenly feeling too feverish. "No, you didn't, I would remember."

Oh, you weren't such a bitch!

Right?

"You said 'thanks' and walked away," Suguru smiled faintly, looking at your flushed face and arm crossed defensively.

"Well, sorry I don’t make eye contact with every tall, emotionally repressed man in black within a five-foot radius." You muttered, never in your life regretting a decision that much.

And the concert hadn't even started yet!

But another hour of talking and drinking has passed. With Suguru's short looks towards you and yours, sometimes glancing at him – his lip piercing moving every time he spoke, hair swinging with every laugh, muscular arms, which at some point caged you between him and the bar, for how crowded the club was.

The air was dense, thick, with droplets of sweat beaming on your forehead, breath getting heavier, panties slightly, just barely, soaked, with the way his voice plesantly giggled your ear and this shit-eating grin made your stomach turn.

And you knew, oh of course you fucking knew, that he also tried to keep himself composed, with a few attempts of hiding a bulge in his jeans, touching your belly every time another freak pushed him from behind. His smirk wasn't that confident anymore when you felt it for the first time – doe eyes immediately lifting up at him, smile cunning, lower lip pinched, with a lone finger skimming black material, pushing right on a swell blooming under your touch.

He shrugged visibly, throat bobbed, Shoko asked if he's drunk, Choso said that the concert was starting, and it's better to push to the front, while you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

What?

"What? But are you going to find us?" she asked.

"I'll be somewhere around the ba–"

"I'm also going to go," he chipped in, voice a bit rough, eyes looking everywhere just not at your slutty smile.

Dear fucking god, why did he agree to get you into this club?

Shoko squinted, lips curved, as Choso raised his eyebrow. "Why didn't you go earlier. Isn't it your favourite band?"

But before Suguru could fry his brain to think of an excuse, Shoko already pulled Choso towards the stage, leaving you alone.

With this handsome freak, who immediately grabbed you by the wrist.

♱♱♱

"Fuck, wait, there's people out the–ahhh."

His long fingers curled in your hair, lower lip bitten, veiny forearms bulging, as he tried to push your plump lips away from his leaking cock, with sticky precum dripping down its fat shaft. Everything was messy, filthy, nasty, with your knees hitting the dirty floor of the bathroom second after you wobbly entered the cabin, and fingers taking Suguru's pants off before he could say a word.

He looked down at you with flushed cheeks, brows furrowed, when you once again closed your lips on the tip of his cock, humming sweetly as salty droplets of his precum landed on your tongue. Your small hands around his girthy cock made his head spin, seeing with how much difficulty your throat was taking the rest of his heavy shaft, vibrating, squeezing, milking him dry when the only thing he could do was to cup the back of your head and let out a shuddering breath.

You pulled out with a pop, soft hand clutching the base of his cock.

"And now you're worried about other people, huh? Should think about it before your cock started leaking through your pants, freak." You spat on his pulsing head, red like a cherry, tasting almost as sweet on your tongue.

It was so embarrassing – to be on your knees for one of these freaks you despised so much. Shoko truly was one and only exception, but you couldn't handle all these emo (goth?) groups hanging out around your campus – so weird, dramatic, with a superiority complex of at least a white, middle-aged man.

Gosh, and these outfits. All black. In summer. On purpose!

Life was hard enough without sweating in thirty degrees Celsius under the black long-sleeve.

Heavy boots stomping across campus, the chains, piercings, stupid fucking makeup that made them look no different from a corpse. And the music – oh God, the music, same one played muffly outside this filthy bathroom. Low, droning, existential crisis-core blasting from someone’s speaker at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday, like everyone else also wanted to contemplate mortality before their first class.

They were just so intense, so annoying, so – uh, so hot.

Because it turned out that this freak looking down at you with dark smudges under his eyes and hair falling down messily on his gleaming forehead, made your cunt clench with a single smirk sent from beneath these black lips you loathed so!

And when he tipped his head, with that stupid silver ring on his eyebrow catching the light against his dark hair? Gosh! It did something deeply inappropriate to your brain.

The heaviness of his cock felt just too right on your tongue – fat shaft once again going deep down, till you slurped on it like a lollipop, tongue swirling on its head, cheeks sucked in. He hissed when the head hit the back of your throat once, twice, thrice, leaving you with teary eyes and, most sluttish, whorish, nasty gaze he ever received from a woman.

And he got exactly zero of them. Up until this evening. Maybe he should consider converting himself, because the thought of someone like you dropping down on her knees for him still twirled in his mind.

"Wait, wait, stop for a second," He was dangerously close, feeling soft pads of your fingers playing with his balls, hand squeezing the length you couldn't deepthroat. "Fuck, bambi, stop, or I'm going to cum."

And it seemed as if information didn't really bother you, with fingers going down to your skirt, now slightly curled around plump hips, and a wet patch forming right on your pinkish panties.

"Cum for me and I'll maybe let you eat me out," you mewled, eyes staring at him cunningly, observing the state you pushed him into, with fingers pulling your hair and abs tensing every time you sucked your cheeks in.

"Wait, I thought we're g-gonna fuck," he choked out when your warm lips closed around his head, a gentle hum of your throat bolting through his body.

Dear god, the things you were doing to him!

You raised an eyebrow, a giggle escaping your throat. "Wanna fuck me, emo boy? A freak like you? Let's put your tongue to work first, and then we can ta–"

But, well, he didn't grace you with an option of finishing this head-spinning, heart-racing, cock-hardening sentence, because his strong palms pushed you back on his leaking shaft, stuffing you fully with his fat cock. You choked, tears immediately pushing from the corners of your eyes, saliva dripping down your chin, dripping straight on a hand, folding nastily your clit.

"Right, you're nothing but a slut, after all." He laughed, deep, low, seeing the new pathetic side of yours. And, oh dear, how beautiful you looked, with your swollen lips and messy hair, heavy tits barely covered by a wet, white top, and trembling thighs, he truly wished to have around his head right fucking now.

"Also."

Thrust.

"I'm not."

Thrust.

"A fucking."

Thrust, thrust, trust.

"Emo."

Like there's a difference! You wanted to say, but instead moaned, fingers pushing inside your panties, circling your puffed clit till another muffled moan escaped your lips.

"You despise people like me that much, but still somehow drench this filthy floor while choking on my cock, huh?" He strangled, breath getting weightier every time his pulsing head hit the back of your throat.

Lovely bloom sprinkled on your wet cheeks, and these eyes, oh gosh your eyes, looking at him so sweetly (slutty!) with the most fucked out gaze and almost heart-shaped pupils. Pitched moan escaping every time another whore was thrown your way, and his heavy, leather boot pressed on your hand stuck in panties.

You were truly, absolutely, embarrassingly pathetic for this muscular freak.

"F-fuck, baby, fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna–"

And with one last push, fingers clasped on your hair, your teary eyes and his muffled moan, he pushed into your throat fully. Till the black hair of his happy trail tingled your nose, heavy balls slapping your wet, drooling chin. Warmth spilled in your throat, gummy, salty, running down smoothly, when you jiggled, coming on your pulsing clit and his heavy boot under your drenched cunt.

He pulled you from his cock with a pop, muscular arms lifting you up from a dirty floor. For a few seconds, he was staring at the fucked state he left you in, before your lips crashed in a long, sloppy kiss, with Suguru's tasting his own cum on your puffy skin. You whined under his gentle touch, his black lipstick mixing with your glittery, smudged lip gloss.

"So what, bambi? Gonna stop ignoring me on a campus for your fuckass frat boyfriend?"

You smiled slyly, lips turning sweetly as his hands cupped your cheeks. "I don't know, it depends on how useful you'll be, freak."

And, well, as much as Suguru truly wanted to stay at this concert, you giving him a chance to prove his worth was much more appealing.