#you know what I will just see someone play a bass

[xorafe]

watch and learn (part one)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

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At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.

But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

part two

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#if you saw me posting a new series in the middle of another one no you didn’t #ANOTHER COLLEGE AU BECAUSE THEY OWN ME #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fanfic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

[omgeto]

☆ ONE OF HIS GIRLS — TOJI FUSHIGURO

summary: you were used to your on again, off again routine with your ex. content in being just one of his girls. until things begin to shift and he starts to make you reconsider having a relationship... with all strings attached.

w/c: 3.9k

cw: afab!reader, angst to fluff, exes to fwb to lovers, tojis a bit of a meanie but you’re a meanie too and you both love each other for that. plot with a small dash of smut so mdni!

an: listen to the weeknds “one of the girls” to see the vision. hope you enjoy!

the bass thumps through the air, reverberating in sync with the pulse of the dimly lit club. bodies move in a synchronised chaos on the dance floor, lost in the music and the allure of the night. neon lights paint the room in shades of electric blue and vibrant pink, casting an otherworldly glow on the scene.

amid the crowd, you move with an easy grace, your body swaying to the rhythm as you dance. the atmosphere is charged, and you relish the freedom it offers, the way the music seems to wash away all your worries. tonight, the world belongs to you, and you intend to make the most of it.

but not far away, toji's gaze is fixed on you. his normally composed demeanour replaced with a simmering intensity. he watches as you interact with another guy, laughter shared, bodies drawing closer as you shamelessly grind your ass against him. his fingers clench around his drink, the glass nearly cracking under the pressure of his grip.

toji has always been good at controlling his emotions, an expert at keeping his feelings hidden beneath a mask of indifference. but tonight, seeing you with someone else, it's a different kind of test. the anger that bubbles within him is a stark reminder of the feelings he's been trying to suppress.

as the song changes, the stranger's hand slides lower on your waist, and toji sees red. he downs his drink in one gulp and pushes his way through the crowd, his jaw clenched and his heart pounding in his chest. he reaches you just as the guy's fingers brush against your hip, his presence looming over the scene.

“fuck off” he demands at the guy you were dancing with, towering over the both of you. the guy looks to you for guidance, hoping that you’ll tell toji to fuck himself. but you give the stranger an appreciative smile, knowing that there was no way you could get toji to back down.

“what the fuck was that?” you interrogate toji, as the stranger stalks off.

“what the fuck was that?” toji mocks with a sneer, “what the fuck was this,”  he gestures to your outfit, and throws his arm in the direction of the stranger you were dancing with.

“it’s called having fun toji,” you argue, confused at his outburst, “what are you even doing here anyways?” you’ve barely seen toji since you broke up, and whenever you did see him it wasn’t in public.

“don’t play dumb princess,” he scoffs,, “don’t act like you didn’t know that this was my spot, that you didn’t come here just so i could see you act like a slut,”

“toji i-” technically he wasn’t wrong, you knew this was where he spent most of his time, but he hadn’t even crossed your mind since you didn’t spend time with him, outside of your bedroom.

“i don't wanna hear it.” suddenly he was tugging on your arm, dragging you somewhere. he was pissed. you could tell by the way his veins popped as he gripped onto you. 

“where the fuck are you taking me?” you ask, pulling back defiantly, “i’m not something you can just drag around.” 

“tonight you are.” he practically growls at you, “now move your ass.” 

your night was taking an unexpected turn, this wasn’t something you did with toji – not in public anyways. your relationship was complicated. you dated for a while but you both knew that it wasn’t working, but you just couldn’t let all of each other go. 

so you created a new routine, one where you could ditch your feelings and use one another for what you were good for. if one of you needed each other it was simple. you’d call, fuck, and go straight home. but tonight, he was off, the way he was bodying people through the crowd his hand still firmly placed on your wrist as he drags you along.

the air feels charged with an unspoken challenge, a silent dare to resist him. yet, despite your defiance, there's something thrilling about his possessive hold, about the way he refuses to let you slip away.

he brings you to the bathroom of the club, practically flinging you against the sink,  hiking up your dress and landing a fat smack on your ass. his hand was stretched across your neck, using it to force you to see your face in the mirror in front of you.

his fingers run over your folds, you were already soaked “no panties, you really were planning on being a whore tonight huh.”

“no i-” 

“i’ve let you get away with a lot of shit, y’know that right?” he mutters, spreading your legs wide so he could fit right behind you, he pulls out his dick and rubs it across your wet slit.

“t-toji, someones… gonna see,” you force out, trying to glance at the bathroom door but toji had your head stuck in place, keeping your eyes trained on the mirror.

“and? do you think i fucking care…” he taunts, continuing to tease you with his dick only entering with just the tip, his precum mixing into your pussy, “don’t know why you’re becoming shy now, you were happy to be a slut out there.”

he rams his dick into you, thrusting hard, making sure that you could really feel him. toji was thick, you both knew that, he’d usually stretch you out with his fingers or his tongue before you fuck, but tonight he was merciless. the pain you felt when he entered brought tears in your eyes, you felt dazed, drunk on the dick that was ploughing straight into your pussy. you couldn’t help but fuck him back, throwing your ass back on his dick as he pushes in and out of you. you were desperate. wanting to feel him even deeper than he already was.

“see look at you,” his mouth is at your ear, your eyes meet directly through the mirror, “all fucked out on my dick, and you say you aren’t a slut.”

“I’m not i-” you try and catch your breath but toji hips slam into yours in quick succession, making it hard to gather your thoughts. 

“fuck princess,” he curses, loving the way your cunt clenches around him, “you’re taking me in so well.” 

“Its t-too much toji…” 

“I don’t care. you can take it,” he was too much, stuffing you full. you couldn’t think straight. his relentless fucking had you clenching your eyes shut, holding down on on the sink for dear life. he was practically punishing you, drilling into you with no remorse as he presses his fingers on your clit. “don’t cum until i say so.”

“but toji, ‘m close, im gonna…” you moan, you could feel yourself about to cum, your body trembling as you grind against his dick. 

“this pussy’s mine y’know. i say when you come. i say who gets to fuck you. i-” toji twitches inside of you, cupping your tits as he brings you closer towards him. his cum sprays inside of your walls, with you creaming on his dick. his cum leaks down your thighs, and he thrusts back into you, as if to keep you filled. 

“fuck,” he murmurs, he swiftly pulls out of you, shoving his dick back into his pants, leaving you there a dripping mess. there was something unspoken between the two of you, you were used to fucking rough, but this time was different. the way toji stared at you, treated you, was different. 

“are you just gonna leave?” you interrogate, all worn out as you see him heading to the exit of the bathroom.

“well, you got what you wanted.” he shrugs, “do you need a ride home or somethin?”

“what is with you tonight?” you question, caught off guard by his nonchalance, “what was that?” you couldn’t deny that you were happily fucked but you and toji have been in the same space on many occasions without their being any form of jealous outburst from him.

“don’t try and act like you didn’t come here tonight wanting this outcome,” he chastises, “what did you really expect?”

“i didn’t expect you to do this whole ‘im gonna fuck you in the bahtroom and claim you as mine,’ jealousy act,” you argue, pulling your dress down as you step closer to him, your face inches from his as you whisper, “oh my god, you were jealous.”

“jealous? of what exactly?” he counters defensively, “if i recall correctly, you weren’t even focused on guy, your eyes were looking around the room for me. you wanted me.”

“believe whatever you want toji,” you chuckle, you could see it now, his reaction to the guy you were dancing with, the way he quickly snatched you up to claim you, how his eyes can't even meet yours. “i think you’re just mad that you’ve finally realised that you’re not the only one with options.”

“well go see how those options of yours like you with my cum stuffed inside of you,” he scoffs, smirking at you with his arms folded as he storms at the bathroom, leaving you speechless.

weeks have passed since you’ve last seen toji, you had no desire to see him after his random act of craziness at the club. yes toji was attractive, and he was the best lay you’ve ever had but you did not have the time for a guy trying to control you.

you step into your apartment, the soft glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains. It's been a long day, and all you want is to sink into the comfort of your own space. but as you close the door behind you, a sense of unease prickles at the back of your mind. something's off.

there wasn’t much surprise when you see him, lounging casually on your couch as if he owns the place. a mixture of irritation and surprise courses through you as he flashes you a smirk.

"what the hell are you doing here?" you demand, your voice sharper than you intended.

toji looks up, his gaze meeting yours with that familiar intensity. "nice to see you too, princess."

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "cut the crap, toji. why are you in my apartment?"

he smirks, his lips curling into that infuriatingly arrogant smile. "missed me, did you?"

“missed you? are you kidding me?" you scoff, your irritation boiling over. "you can't just waltz into my place like it's no big deal."

"relax, I'm just here to unwind" toji stretches, his casual demeanour only adding to your irritation, “and you gave me a key remember?”

"for emergencies" you snap, your patience wearing thin, “cut to the chase toji, i've got  plans.”

his mood shifts suddenly, his posture straightening as he steps towards you. “that’s exactly what i wanted to come talk to you about,” his tone grows more serious, “y’know in the past few weeks i’ve heard a few things about you and your ‘plans.’”

“what about them toji?” you were beyond fed up at this point, he’s trying to intimidate you, and you meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“it seems that you forgot what i told you in the bathroom all those weeks ago,” his face came inches closer to yours, his lips just a fraction away from your ear. “your pussy is mine.”

“why do you think you own me all of a sudden?” you snap, slightly shoving him away from you, “what happened to us just being people who occasionally fuck.”

“because you were only fucking me.”

“so what..?” you respond harshly, “in case you forgot you’re fucking half of the city.”

toji's gaze narrows, a hint of annoyance flashing across his eyes. "don't play stupid. you know damn well what I'm talking about."

you cross your arms over your chest, refusing to back down. "and what if I am? what's your problem, toji? we were just having fun, no strings attached."

be takes a step closer, his presence almost overwhelming in the confined space of your apartment. "fun, huh?" he practically sneers, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "is that what you call it? you think I'm just some convenient option for you?"

"convenient?" your voice rises, matching his intensity. "you were the one who suggested this arrangement in the first place."

a bitter smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "yeah, because i knew you couldn't handle anything more than that."

"excuse me?” your eyes narrow, anger coursing through your veins. “just face it, the reason we broke up in the first place is because you have commitment issues. so dont act like some relationship guru.”

“commitment issues, thats rich coming from you,” his jaw clenches, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. "i never said I was a guru. but don't act like you're some innocent victim in all of this."

you scoff, disbelief colouring your tone. "victim? I never claimed to be one. i knew what i was getting into, and I was fine with it. until you decided to play the possessive asshole."

toji's gaze darkens, his voice riddled with venom. "oh, so it's my fault now? i'm the asshole?"

"yes!" you practically shout, the frustration and pent-up anger finally boiling over. "you can't just waltz in and out of my life whenever it suits you, toji. i'm not here to satisfy your ego or your control freak tendencies."

he steps closer, his face dangerously close to yours. "you think you can just brush me off? go ahead, try. but you won't be able to. everybody knows you’re mine."

the audacity of his words sends a surge of rage through you. "i am not yours, toji. I am my own person, and I won't be dictated by your whims."

his eyes bore into yours, a storm of conflicting emotions raging within them. "you're playing a dangerous game princess."

"and you're deluding yourself if you think I'll just bend to your will," you retort, your voice unwavering.

toji's jaw clenches, his anger palpable. "fine. if that's how you want it, princess."

without another word, he turns on his heel and storms out of your apartment, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and defiance. as the door slams shut behind him, you realise that this confrontation might have just put an end to whatever twisted dynamic you and toji had going on. a conflicted sense of relief washes over you; you're relieved that toji is relinquishing his hold on you. however, a nagging feeling of hope stirs within you, making you question his sudden possessiveness. why does he want you all to himself? it's a thought you can't shake off, and as you ponder it, a whirlwind of uncertainty clouds your mind.

toji, on the other hand, was pissed. how could you not see that he wanted you – granted, he had an obscure way of showing it, but to him, it was clear as day. he had spent weeks grappling with the complexity of his feelings. the memories of your past together haunted him – the way you used to fit perfectly against his chest, the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears. he had buried those emotions deep, convincing himself that he was better off without the entanglements of a committed relationship.

you held a special place among the women he’d been with. it wasn't just about the physical connection, although he relished those moments when you shared that intimate space. what set you apart was your qualities – your strong mind, the way you weren't so easily fooled by him, how your eyes would glow when you’d get excited about the smallest things. with the others, there was no desire for him to stay with them after sex – they were disposable. but with you, he basked in the moments where he could lay with you after making love, cherishing the quiet intimacy.

however, after you broke up, you were cold and distant. you mirrored his own detachment, and he couldn’t help but feel used. the connection you once shared seemed to have transformed into something different, leaving him with a sense of emptiness. he found himself questioning whether he had been mistaken all along about what he thought was between you two.

deep inside, a storm raged within toji. he knew he was being unreasonable, that he had no right to demand more from you. after all, he had been the one who initiated this friends-with-benefits arrangement, drawing boundaries to keep emotions at bay. yet, watching you slip away from him, even as he tried to keep you at arm’s length, ignited a turmoil of conflicting emotions – anger, longing, and a fear of facing his own vulnerability.

days turned into weeks, and the void left by toji's absence gnawed at your thoughts. you found yourself replaying your heated exchange, questioning if you had made the right decision. toji's intensity had left an indelible mark, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more beneath his anger.

you finally had chance to be free of him, to try new options – just like you wanted. but they just didn’t hit the same (literally). the guys you’ve been with after toji were alright, they got the job done, but they were all missing something. something you feel that only he could provide for you.

tonight was no different, you lay there in the aftermath of yet another liaison, the room filled with a haze of lingering desire. the guy beside you basked in his post-coital glow, his arm lazily draped across your stomach. you should've been satisfied, content even. but instead, your mind drifted, thoughts consumed by memories of toji – his touch, his gaze, the way he made you feel alive in a way no one else could.

as you slipped out from under the guy's arm and got dressed, his sleepy voice trailed after you. "leaving so soon?"

you offered a vague smile, avoiding eye contact. "yeah, i've got an early morning."

he shrugged, seemingly unbothered, and settled back onto the bed. "alright, see you around."

the cool night air greeted you as you stepped out onto the city streets, your thoughts still dominated by memories of toji. the glow of streetlights illuminated your path as you walked, lost in your own contemplations. the truth was, despite your attempts to find solace in the arms of others, your heart still yearned for toji. the memories of your time together, the electric chemistry you shared, they all refused to fade. you had tried to suppress those feelings, to silence the longing that echoed within you. but as you walked alone through the city, you admitted to yourself that no one else could replace what you had with him.

lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the figure leaning against a nearby wall until you were practically upon him. your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up to meet familiar dark eyes – toji. he looked just as surprised to see you as you were to see him, his usual composure momentarily faltering.

"toji?" you blurted out, unable to contain your shock.

"in the flesh," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and something else – something you couldn't quite place.

the awkward silence that followed was heavy with unspoken words, a whirlwind of emotions dancing between you. the memories of your last encounter, the heated confrontation that ended in a bitter clash, still lingered in the air. but beneath the surface, there was something more, a connection that time and distance hadn't completely eroded.

"toji, i..." you began, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words.

he looked at you, his expression unreadable. "i fucked this up."

the honesty in his voice took you by surprise, and for a moment, you were transported back to a time when it was just the two of you, when everything was simpler, and your connection was undeniable.

"it wasn’t all your fault." you admitted, your voice soft.

the tension that had hung in the air seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of understanding. in that moment, it was as if the weeks of distance and confusion melted away, leaving only the truth of your feelings.

"toji..." you began again, your voice steadier this time, "can we talk?"

wrapped in the warmth of the soft blankets, you and toji lay intertwined on the bed. his strong arms held you close, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath your cheek. the soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. the world outside seemed to fade away as you basked in the intimacy of the moment.

toji's fingers traced delicate patterns on your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. your fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing soothing in its familiarity. the silence between you was comfortable, a testament to the unspoken understanding that had grown between you.

"you know," toji's voice broke the quiet, "i never thought we'd end up like this."

you looked up at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "like what?"

he met your gaze, his eyes holding a warmth that made your heart flutter. "like this. together."

a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you nuzzled closer to him. "yeah, well, life has a funny way of surprising us."

toji's lips found yours in a gentle kiss, a tender brush of affection that spoke volumes. as the kiss deepened, the worries and uncertainties of the past seemed to melt away, leaving only the present – the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.

you pulled away slightly, your foreheads resting together as you looked into his eyes. "you know, for a while there, i thought we were too stubborn to admit what we really wanted."

he grinned, that familiar cocky smile that made your heart skip a beat. "well, you know me – always have to do things my own way."

you rolled your eyes playfully, swatting his chest. "yeah, that's for sure."

toji's fingers brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender and affectionate. "i'm glad we figured it out, though. i don't think i could've let you go again."

a soft sigh escaped your lips, your heart swelling with emotion. "me neither."

the two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, your bodies moulded together as if they were always meant to be this way. as you lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, you realised that the journey to this moment – the ups and downs, the twists and turns – had been worth it. because in the end, you had found your way back to each other, stronger and more connected than ever before. you thought you'd be content just being one of his girls, but now that your his girl again you were completely and utterly satisfied.

and just as your contentment settled in, toji's mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. "now come sit on my face, so I can remind you of what you’ve been missing out on," he whispered playfully.your laughter filled the room as he pulled you on top of him, his hands firmly gripping your hips. "toji!" you exclaimed, both surprised and amused. as your hands pressed against his chest, you couldn't help but revel in the familiarity of his touch. ah how you missed this.

#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #toji smut #toji angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen smut

[lemonlover1110]

𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃

Choso

Pairing: Bass Guitarist!Choso x f!Reader

Summary: You usually hang out with Choso after his concerts, only this time he wants to talk about your relationship. Luckily for you, you know how to distract him from important matters.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Friends with Benefits, Car Sex, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Squirting, Creampie, Angst if you squint

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

This art was sent in my server and I was forced to write about him in this AU, anyway I hope you lovelies enjoy!! likes and reblog always appreciated❤️

There’s a whole crowd that screams Choso’s name from the top of their lungs as his fingers strum against the strings of his bass. Choso, a very reserved man, someone who is not even the star of the band but the most beloved amongst fans. Is it because they barely know anything about him? Or is it because he looks too hot while he really gets into the song? For you, it’s the latter. 

Choso lets himself loose as his mind, body and soul embrace the song. It becomes an issue for him to stay close to the microphone, until he realizes his vocals come up. He’s sweaty, his eyeshadow smudged and running down his cheeks; it’s a look that drives the fangirls wild, and you can’t exactly blame them for it.

They get louder when they hear Choso’s voice, and you wonder if it drives Suguru insane that even though he’s the lead vocalist, he doesn’t get as much attention as Choso. There’s just something about Choso that has everyone in a trance. He looks so seductive even when he barely tries.

The song ends, and the crowd cheers, wanting more from the band. For a moment the only thing you hear is the crowd chanting Choso’s name. You don’t understand why they go wild over him, but then again, you guess that the lack of knowledge about him makes him intriguing. However, you know all you need to know about him. 

“I really don’t get why they go so crazy over him! I’d argue that Getou is hotter.” You yell to your friend, and she rolls her eyes. She knows you’re just talking to talk because given the option, you always choose Choso.

The noise dies as the sound of the bass begins again. All eyes are on Choso until Suguru begins to sing. Your eyes stay on Choso, and his eyes scan the crowd until they land on you. A smile comes onto his face as you maintain eye contact. His eyes finally look away, looking down at his guitar. You know you’ll be seeing each other later.

Just to tease you, he does something that he rarely does. Something that makes the crowd get louder, his tongue running up the neck of his guitar. You roll your eyes as your cheeks get hot. You fucking hate him. 

You have no issue getting backstage after the show. The security guard looks at your friend funny, but he knows you so he assumes that she’s okay to pass. He doubts that anyone will have a problem since you’re beloved among the band members.

“Hi, Lexi.” You wave at the woman who talks with her boyfriend. Suguru’s arm is thrown over her shoulders while they head to the door that you just walked through. She waves at you, blowing a kiss your way before focusing on her boyfriend again. 

“Where’s Gojo?” Your friend asks, her eyes searching for the white haired man, after all, she joined you just because she knew you could get her the opportunity to talk to Satoru. You were going to come either way since Choso sent you a message, it didn’t hurt for her to tag along. 

You’re about to help her, but your eyes land on Choso. There’s a subtle smile on his face when he notices you. He walks toward you, and you completely ignore your friend as she continues asking about Satoru. She rolls her eyes, knowing damn well that you were acting tough and annoyed as everyone chanted Choso’s name because according to you he isn’t a big deal. It’s clear jealousy.

From what she knows, you and Choso have an unusual friendship– Which is another way of saying that you’re friends with benefits. You both came to an agreement where you could use each other’s bodies with no strings attached, however, tonight it might all come to an end. Whether you like it or not. 

“I’m glad to see you here.” Choso says as you give him a side hug. You don’t like to get too touchy while others are around. He still kisses the top of your head, before he looks at your friend. “Who did you bring with you tonight?”

“Just my friend. She wants to meet Gojo.” You tell him, as his fingers intertwine with yours. Choso calls out for Satoru, hoping that the sooner your friend meets Satoru, the sooner you’ll get out of the place. Although getting out of the place so soon isn’t the best idea since there’s still an army of fans outside that will do just about anything to get a picture with Choso. 

The band’s popularity has increased over the past couple of months, and suddenly Choso always has someone throwing themselves at him. It ticks you off more than you’d like to admit. 

“What?” Satoru asks, clear annoyance in his voice. He notices you and he begins to approach you to give you a hug, but it earns a glare from Choso. All the members know you well and they consider you a good friend, which means they all know your situation with Choso. When Satoru notices the look, he sticks with a simple greeting. “Hey.”

“Hi, Gojo.” You smile at him. You then point to your friend, informing him, “She’s here to meet you.”

“Are you her ride home?” Choso questions, and you shake your head in response. She brought you here knowing that you would go your separate ways after the concert. She saw the message that Choso had left on your phone, and she urged you to come. “Does that mean we can leave?”

“I think so.” You answer. You still check to see if she’s okay being left alone with Satoru before leaving. When she says yes, you lead Choso out of the building. Your eyes stare at the case of his guitar and you ask, “Do you need help? I’m really strong, just so you know.”

He laughs, “No doubt about it, but I can handle it.”

“You’re in a hurry.” Choso comments when you step outside. He takes the lead, dragging you to his car. 

“Weren’t you the one that was asking if we could leave?” You chuckle, and he laughs as well. He opens the trunk to put the case in before walking to the passenger door and opening it for you. He watches you get inside before he shuts the door for you. He nearly runs to the driver’s side, embarrassingly impatient.

“Do you want to join Lexi and Suguru tonight? Or what do you want to do?” Choso isn’t exactly the person to go hang out with his friends after a concert, especially at a bar. But he knows that you like that sort of stuff, so he sticks with you until you’re ready to go back home– Or back to his apartment, whichever place is closest to the place you’re hanging out in.

“Can we just go back to your place?” You respond, your eyes focused on his side profile. You were too jealous earlier to admire just how good he looks tonight.

“Can we talk about–” He begins, but you grab the collar of his shirt and put your lips on his before he can finish his sentence. You know he wants to talk about the message that he sent, something that made you want to stay home tonight. Can we talk about us? Or something along those lines, you just know that you don’t want to change this perfect arrangement.

Your tongue enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hands go to his belt. He doesn’t know why you’re so eager tonight, it doesn’t click in his head. Maybe the little trick from earlier worked to rile you up, and he’s certain that it was that when you unbutton his pants and begin to pull them down. 

“Here? Aren’t you scared–” He begins when you pull away from the kiss but you begin to kiss his neck. Your lips go to that one sweet spot that makes him weak, sucking on it. You aren’t scared that you’ll get caught, that’s good to know. He’s the one that should be worried about getting caught since he’s the one that has to hold a public image. 

The parking lot is private, and it’s pretty much empty. He isn’t too worried about that. 

“Don’t you want to go somewhere more private?” He still asks but he doesn’t bother to stop you as you spit on his cock, your hand wrapping around the base and slowly stroking it. 

“We can talk later. Right now, I need your cock in my mouth.” You kiss his shaft before your tongue drags on his length and begins to circle on his tip. You begin to kiss the tip, causing Choso to bite down his lip. He’s certainly not going to stop now.

Your mouth wraps around his cock, hearing the moan whimper just at the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Everything you do drives him wild. It’s why he can’t stop you when he wants to talk about more serious issues– Issues that concern your relationship and what you’re doing. 

He doesn’t like it like this though. He loves the sight of your pretty face as your mouth is wrapped around his cock. He still loves the feeling though. He praises you, “You’re doing so good, baby.” 

You take all of him in your mouth, gagging on his length which causes the tears to build up in your eyes. It’s a sight that usually drives the man wild, although he doesn’t like to admit it; unluckily for him, he only sees the back of your head. 

His head is thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head. You have complete control over him, and he hates it. But he certainly loves the way he feels at the moment. When the tears fall from your eyes, you lift up your head, detaching yourself from his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his cock.

“Can we do it here?” You ask him as your thighs rub against one another, the heat between your legs getting too unbearable. Your libido is too high, you can’t wait to go back to his place. You need him now.

Choso’s cheeks are flushed, and the man’s brain goes a thousand miles per minute. What you’re thinking of is riskier, and if anyone walks by, you’ll get caught. But he doesn’t care. He needs you too. 

“Yeah, let’s do it here.” He agrees, and you crawl over to his side. You lift up your skirt, moving your panties to the side. Two of his fingers run through your folds, noting just how wet you are when he’s done nothing to you. The mere thought of him drives you insane.

You align his cock with your entrance before slowly sitting on it. His lips land on yours, feeling your moans vibrate through your tongue as you move on his cock. 

You move back and forth on his cock. You feel euphoric as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot. 

Choso pulls away, grabbing the back of your neck to pull your face away. He needs to admire your beautiful face, taking in every single detail about it. You look so alluring with your messed up makeup. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, and he gets a sense of satisfaction knowing that he caused it. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, his nose burying in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent, getting more intoxicated by you. You’re controlling all of his thoughts lately, even though you’re not even trying.

“You’re so big.” You say, your back arching as Choso begins to thrust his hips instead of leaving it to you to handle it all. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, giving you more stimulation so your high approaches sooner. The faster you finish, the faster you can go again. “Oh– Choso!”

“Fuck–” He can’t help but curse. He’s getting so lost inside of you. In more ways than one. 

His hand pulls down your tank top, and the man gets upset at the bra that gets in the way of what he wants. He pulls down the cups of your bra so his tongue circles around your nipples. He greedily kisses and licks before his mouth finally wraps around one of your tits. 

His other hand begins to toy with the nipple that isn’t in his mouth, teasing it and pinching it. All the stimulation makes your brain foggy as your climax begins to get the best of you. You continue to chant his name, getting louder and louder. 

“Oh, fuck!” You yell as you come around his cock. You make a mess all over him, squirting on him. You’d be embarrassed with someone else, but Choso has seen you do so much worse– It helps that you know he absolutely loves it. Choso bites down on your nipple before unlatching.

“You’re such a good girl. Making a mess all over me.” His hands move to your hips, his nails digging into your flesh. 

“You always take me so well.” He’s kissing your neck, his thrusts getting sloppy. His warm cum fills you up not too long after, and you bite down your bottom lip to not moan. You fucking love it when he fills you up, but he rarely does it. He got too caught up in the moment. 

He stays buried inside of you, continuing kissing your neck, going up to your face. He almost whispers, “Can we talk?”

“Your dick is buried inside of me, might as well.” You chuckle, and he awkwardly returns the gesture. His soft eyes look into yours, and the look tells you all you need to know. You were suspecting it since lately Choso has been more… Romantic than what you had agreed upon. Getting flowers weekly isn’t what your friend is supposed to do.

“I want you.” He can’t put it any other way. Choso’s written what feels like hundreds of songs but he can’t find the right words to express himself. You don’t want to have this conversation now, or any time soon for that matter.

You take advantage of his indistinct way of expressing himself. It's not that you don't want him the same way, it's just easier to keep what you have going on. Choso is getting too big so fast, you don't want to start something that'll end up badly. Which is simply ironic.

You reach to the side of the seat, reclining the seat, pushing his back down. Your lips go to his ear, whispering, “You have me.”

It’s not the way he means it, not one bit. But he’ll take it until he can express himself properly.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu choso #choso #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso jjk #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #kamo choso #choso x you #kamo choso smut #choso x y/n #choso x reader smut

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy

Part 1/?

Modern au rock star!Eddie & sugar baby!Steve; alpha!Eddie/omega!Steve

Fall was in full swing and a chill was officially in the air at all times. Most especially as the sun started to go down. Eddie was warm in his leather jacket but for a brief moment his heart went out to the guy standing outside the bar, arms bare to the wind. He was dressed in a striped polo shirt and jeans, not quite what one might see in a dive bar like this.

But he was probably waiting for someone, so Eddie went inside without another thought, catching just the smallest whiff of his scent as he walked by. An omega. He was definitely waiting for someone then. No one kept their omega idling for long. Once inside, Eddie took his shades off, the lights low enough to keep most from recognizing him.

It helped that he was flying solo tonight. No band members or bodyguards in sight. It was nice to be anonymous sometimes. Not that fame and fortune ever got tiring, it was just a good change of pace. He posted up to the bar, ordered a beer, and got comfortable. He was right in the middle of a conversation with another patron about the current season's fishing prospects when that scent washed over him again something like lavender and petrichor.

Although, when Eddie looked over, that second part might've just been the scent of actual rain. The omega from outside was sitting next to him. The tops of his shoulders and head were damp.

"Was wonderin' when you'd come in and grace us with your presence", the bartender said.

The omega simply rolled his eyes and didn't order anything. Eddie saw him shiver and without thinking, took off his jacket and placed it over his shoulders. He realized what he'd done when the other man froze.

"Sorry you just looked cold and maybe you were but I shouldn't've just done something like that I can-I can take it back", he reached out.

"No", the omega held onto the jacket. "No, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."

"I uh, saw you outside. Boyfriend making you wait?" Eddie inwardly cringed. He meant to be more subtle than that. Meant to say something anything else.

"Don't have one." The omega got a strange look as he finally looked Eddie square in the face. "Have I...seen you somewhere before? Sorry", he shook his head and let out a breath of laughter. "What I line. I swear I'm not-I'm not trying to come on to you or anything, I just know I've seen you on like tv or something."

Eddie couldn't judge on pick up lines after what he said about a boyfriend. "You...you might've." He looked around and contemplated for just a second before he continued. "Ever heard of Corroded Coffin?"

"They're a band, right? That's where I know you from?"

Eddie grinned. "Yeah, that's where." He could tell this guy just barely recognized him and that it wasn't an act.

"God, Dustin would kill me. I can hear him now. Sorry, I'm probably not the kind of fan you like running in to."

"I'll take polite conversation over groveling any day. So do you know any of the member's names?"

"I know there's the guy Dustin likes the most because he can play drums and the bass. He admires talented people like that. And he goes on and on about this Eddie guy, but I can never remember which one-you?"

"Me, handsome", Eddie grinned. "And your name?"

"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'."

Steve. Eddie had to taste it on his tongue. "Steve. And were you waiting for Dustin before the rain brought you in?"

Steve smiled now, adjusting Eddie's jacket across his shoulders. "No, I wasn't really waiting for anyone. And before you ask, Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." Steve ran a hand through his hair, not so damp anymore after they had been talking.

"You gonna order something or keep taking up space at my bar?", the bartender asked.

"What's your poison, Steve?"

"Oh, I can't pay you back", Steve said.

"Then don't. Order something."

"I mean I really can't pay you back, Eddie. I was hanging around outside because I...because I'm between paychecks right now. And I'm not that kind of omega." Steve's shoulders hunched up in shame and he looked like he was about to remove Eddie's jacket.

"I didn't say you were. You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."

"Really?", Steve asked, voice flat in disbelief.

"Really."

Steve turned to the bartender. "Whiskey sour please."

Eddie smiled. "So, what's your opinion on farmed fish versus wild caught?"

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

Steve had been going through the worst day of his life. Work had been awful and he had wanted to scream. He ran out so quick that he forgot his jacket and was already halfway home when he remembered. He kept going. He wasn't going back there today. He got to his apartment, ready to fill his empty stomach with something only to find he was devoid of food.

Of course. He'd cleaned himself out with his last heat and hadn't gone grocery shopping since. He'd been eating out for the past week. And if he checked his bank account....

$10.43

And pay day wasn't for another three days. Steve was desperate. It was plenty of money if he went to the convenience store right outside his apartment. But the cashier there always gave him odd looks and he just didn't have the energy for it. He contemplated sending someone in to buy his stuff, but he wasn't feeling very trusting right now.

Which was how he ended up at the bar. The dollar store would've been an option last week, but it was a couple of miles away and his car was in the shop. He didn't even know what his plan was. Buy the cheapest drink and fill up on pretzels and nuts? It was why he was standing outside as the sun got lower, just feeling sorry for himself.

He just wished someone would take pity on him. Would see how hard he had been working and told him it was okay, he could take a break now and they'd take care of him.

Hell would probably freeze over first though.

Then the rain started and he couldn't waste time out here any longer. At least inside the bar, it was warm. Steve already wasn't looking forward to the walk home. What if it was still raining? He couldn't afford to get sick right now. He sat at the only empty seat at the bar and thought of the least pathetic way to ask for a cheap drink when something warm came over him.

It smelled of ginger and cinnamon and for a moment, Steve was drowning in it when he heard the owner of the jacket try to apologize for it and then take it back. Instinctively, Steve held onto it tighter.

"No, no, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."

The alpha next to him said something about a boyfriend that Steve barely registered but figured out by context what he was asking.

"Don't have one." He shook his head and then actually looked the alpha up and down. Curly hair spilled over his shoulders and he looked smaller without the leather jacket that was currently over his own shoulders. There was something oddly familiar about him. Like he'd seen that face on his social media feed or something.

When Steve asked, he realized he was talking to a guy in Dustin's favorite band. He felt like an idiot. This guy was probably used to starstruck fans bowing at his feet and here Steve was, just treating him like a nobody. But try as he might, Steve couldn't pretend like he was some big deal, even imagining Dustin's lecture on proper celebrity sighting etiquette later didn't change things.

Then the alpha, Eddie his name was Eddie, introduced himself and then asked for his name, tacking on a compliment at the end of the question.

"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'." He couldn't help being a little hungry for some positive attention right now.

Then Eddie asked a very unsubtle question about Dustin, insinuating that he was some kind of boyfriend and Steve wanted to laugh. The little kid he had babysat that had been like the pain in the ass brother he never asked for definitely wasn't that. And he let Eddie know that.

"Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." He didn't know why he said it like that. He might as well have spread his legs and held up a sign that said 'open for business'. This guy was a literal rock star, he must have lustful groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. Wording it like that absolutely wasn't Steve intention. Even if his scent was so comforting and intoxicating.

Then the bartender urged them to order something and Steve felt his empty stomach drop. Eddie insisted on buying him a drink and Steve really wished he had the money for it because there was no way he was paying in any other way. And if Eddie was expecting that, he'd just as soon go back out into the rain, leaving the warm jacket behind.

"You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."

Steve searched his face for a bluff, any sign of dishonesty. But he saw none.

"Really?"

"Really."

So Steve ordered just as Eddie asked him something about fishing and clearly this night was not going to go the way he planned.

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

Eddie was halfway through his second drink and knee deep in a conversation about the pros and cons of fishing compared to hunting. Apparently Steve's dad took him out hunting before he presented and afterward, his grandfather took him out on a couple of fishing trips.

"One just seems more fair, is all I'm saying", Steve said, still nursing his first drink. "One has you sneaking up on an unsuspecting animal. The other one you're just luring them. Fish know what they're getting into. Deer don't until they're already in your sights."

"You think very highly of fish intelligence", Eddie noted.

"I once had a year long beef with a friend's pet fish. Long story. But fish are smarter than they look." Then Steve's stomach growled. Very loudly. Embarrassingly loud.

"I don't know about you, but all this fish talk is making me hungry", Eddie said. "Can I buy you dinner?"

"I suppose I've got about twenty bucks worth of more conversation in me", Steve smiled, appreciating what Eddie was offering.

Eddie paid the tab and Steve put his arms into the jacket, then remembered Eddie might want it since it was cold outside. "Did you want-"

"Keep it on. I run hot anyway and we just need to make it to my car." That was a lie, Eddie had the circulation of a failing newspaper but he liked the look of Steve in his jacket too much to give it up. And the rain had stopped so now it was just damp and cold outside.

Steve thought he should feel wary of getting into a car with a stranger, especially a famous one. But he had his phone on him and Eddie was taking him to a place with a lot of people, so it was fine. Eddie put his sunglasses on as they went inside and asked for a table in the back, which the person up front gladly accommodated.

"Not to toot my own horn", Eddie said as they were seated. "But I can never tell when and where I'll get recognized. And I don't want any tabloids tomorrow morning." Because right now, Steve didn't just look like some random guy that Eddie was wining and dining. Right now, he looked like he belonged to Eddie.

"Got any funny stories?", Steve asked.

Eddie grinned and rolled his shoulders as he got comfortable in his seat. "Well, there was the one time I was literally in a tv studio about to be interviewed with the band and someone thought I was the boom guy."

"If I was dressing up on Halloween as a boom guy, I think I'd put on this general look", Steve said, gesturing to Eddie's whole body.

"And there was the time I got recognized while at a fabric store. I'm standing in line, basket full of sewing supplies and a bunch of floral fabrics, and this woman in her sixties asks for my autograph."

"Aren't you in a metal band?"

"Yeah and some of our most hardcore fans are women over 40", Eddie said. "Don't underestimate 'em."

A waiter came by and took their orders and they kept talking. Steve couldn't believe how badly his day had started because now it felt like he was flying above the clouds. Eddie actually seemed interested in what he had to say. And Steve was constantly thrown by the different directions Eddie took the conversation. From fishing, to getting recognized stories, to horrible customers, to the perils of sailing a boat.

"Never?"

"I remember going once as a kid and was scared shitless the whole time", Steve said. "Whoever decided it was okay for me to watch Titanic in kindergarten really messed me up."

"So besides that one time you've never been on a boat?", Eddie asked.

"My parents tried getting me on a yacht once and I started hyperventilating on the dock. I stayed on the boardwalk", Steve said. Just one of the many ways he'd been a disappointment.

After the meal, Eddie offered to drive Steve home. He wanted to. But after drinks and food and talking to Eddie for so long about nothing at all, Steve felt cautious. Had his guard lowered? If he let Eddie see him to his door, would Eddie be expecting something? What made him even more hesitant was that he might let Eddie get away with it.

He was handsome and charming and had alleviated Steve's worries for a few hours. He was even going home with some leftovers in a box. For a second, Steve wondered if food was all it took.

"Hey, look, I understand if you don't want some strange alpha taking you home. What about if I just order you a ride?", Eddie suggested.

"You can take me home", Steve said quickly. "Just don't expect any dessert."

Before leaving, Eddie excused himself to use the restroom and Steve used that opportunity to do something that was probably really stupid. It was certainly pointless. But he could take a risk every now and then. He tore off a piece of the menu and used a pen at the podium up front and that was how Eddie found him.

"Ready to go?"

"Ready", Steve smiled.

The car ride was a little more quiet, both of them digesting both the food and what had happened tonight. Meeting a stranger that you clicked with, it didn't happen every day. Steve gave him his address and Eddie pulled up to the building.

"You should walk me up", Steve said. "Make sure I get there safe."

"Y-yeah, I can do that", Eddie stuttered, struggling with his seatbelt while Steve was already out of the car.

Eddie followed him to his apartment, glad now for the chill outside because otherwise he'd be sweating watching Steve's ass for so long as he walked in front of him.

"Well, this is me", Steve said.

"I had a great time tonight", Eddie said.

Steve laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we come up with anymore first date lines?"

"Hmm, how's about I'd love to do this again soon?", Eddie smiled, leaning in a bit.

"I'd like that." Steve took Eddie's jacket off his shoulders.

"What if I want you to wear it for our next date?", Eddie asked.

"If you want me to wear this, you better scent it properly", Steve goaded.

Eddie pinned him against the door and smashed their mouths together. His jacket was trapped between their bodies. Steve let out a soft sound and brought a hand to Eddie's cheek.

"We can't go on a second date until the first one is over", Steve said when he pulled back. He curled a lock of Eddie's hair around his finger just because he couldn't help it.

"Your number?", Eddie asked, licking at Steve's lips.

"Check your jacket", Steve breathed.

Eddie didn't take his eyes off Steve as he went through his jacket pocket and found what Steve had been scribbling on earlier. It was a ripped piece of the menu. And it had Steve's number on it.

Part 2

If I had a nickel for every time I steddified a Marilyn Monroe song I'd have two nickels.

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #okay maybe dont expect all the parts to be this long tho LOL

[anakincentric]

mdni. minors & ageless blogs will be blocked. warnings: sexual content, implied smut, established relationship, dom!anakin, objectification (f receiving), possession (f receiving), size difference, anakin fights with a guy mentions, vaginal fingering, alcohol mentions.

“we’ll go soon, baby, i just wan’ finish my drink.” you say, tilting your head down to sip at your thin black straw sticking out of your pink fruity beverage. sitting at the bar, you kick your heeled feet, knocking the platforms together as you ogle your boyfriend who stands next to you.

“all these people make me uncomfortable.” anakin replies, scanning the room as if to gauge every single person here. powerful brows are knit together in a disapproving frown, judging everyone for their clothing choices and how they like to spend their friday night.

“i promise-promise. almost done. you paid for it, wan’ get your money’s worth.” you assure, long claws coming to caress his rotator cuff appreciatively. your touch soothes him, glancing down at the contact, and his expression softens the slightest bit in the dull light. it makes you smile at him with the straw still tucked in the corner of your lips.

past him, on the other side of the bar, a commotion draws your attention. you crane your neck to see around anakin’s huge frame, large enough to obstruct a lot of your view point. you hardly even notice when his large hand settles on your bare thigh, creeping up to the short hemline of your dress.

“i’m not interested.” a voice says, loud enough for you to hear over the music. your eyebrows furrow, suddenly alerted to distress. alarms ring in your head.

“what’s wrong, princess?” anakin asks with concern. the only strain of concern he knows how to show, glancing over his shoulder to follow your eyeline. you didn’t even realize you’d started to pat at his arm with fervor. you set your glass down, the ice clinking together from the impact, and you push off your seat.

“no, i don’t wanna go with you-“ the voice says again, a girl’s voice. you don’t even give it a second thought as you stride to the source, and anakin’s gotten the picture now, following closely after you.

“c’mon, don’t be a prude. jus’ wanna show you my place.” a man’s voice comes into play, the bass of it now able to be heard over the music now that you’re closer. you’re able to see he’s putting his hands on her, and trying to lead her towards the exit and everybody’s too busy to notice!

“ani-“ you whirl around to address your boyfriend, but he’s way ahead of you.

anakin surges forward, cutting you off with his body to shield you as he invites himself onto the scene. you stand, watching, as he doesn’t hesitate in fisting the guy’s collar to yank him from the girl. ani’s taller than him by far.

“do we have a fucking problem?” you nearly jump at anakin’s mean voice, meaner than the one he uses when you’re in trouble for being a brat. the guy turns, not expecting to crane his neck to look up at anakin, coming face-to-chest first. he suspends his hands with a nervous smile, and the girl seizes her chance to back up now that she’s released.

“we’re jus’ havin’ a li’l fun. mind your fucking business-“ the guy says, slurring his speech. you’re sure he smells like alcohol, and ani hates that smell.

you blink as anakin says nothing and latches a hand on the guy’s upper arm for proper leverage, dragging him towards the door easily. as he gets further, you’re able to creep to the girl. you know anakin wouldn’t want you anywhere near this, wouldn’t even want you to see this side of him, but you’re sure she needs someone right now.

“get the fuck out.” anakin tosses the full grown man outside, letting his knees buckle to land on the pavement from the force of his push. “if i see your face around here again i won’t be so fucking nice.” you stand next to the girl, both hypnotized by your boyfriend demonstrating his domineering personality. the guy wallows on the ground, scraped up but otherwise fine. he sways in place, and looks over his shoulder to see anakin’s back is turned. he takes the chance, picking himself up to get his revenge. being as drunk as he is, it’s child’s play for perpetually-sober-anakin to hear him coming, facing him and leaning back to dodge the punch thrown. it’s effortless, a perfect and swift incline of his body away from the man who stumbles because he missed. anakin raises his leg, connecting his hefty boot against the guy’s stomach and the air is kicked right out of his lungs. anakin’s chain rattles against his pants. the man falls back, clutching his aching abdomen as he rolls on the concrete.

at this point, the conversations in the bar had gone silent, watching with bated breath. some had even pulled out their phones, hoping to capture a viral video probably captioned “handsome hero kicks asshole out of bar.” you’re kinda swooning. anakin lumbers back, swiping at his nose with his thumb, and he looks positively masculine. an aura of power radiates off of him, as if he had fun teaching that idiot a lesson though you could tell he was holding back.

he rejoins you and the girl. “thank you.” she says, croaking. anakin only nods. he’s so humble, you think, he gets so uncomfortable when he’s thanked for stuff like that. he comes to stand behind you, nearly caging you against the bar as he addresses the tender. you beam with pride, and pulse with a need. the fact everyone just saw your boyfriend kick someone’s ass and now he’s right behind you acting like he didn’t just do that.

“an ice water.” he orders, and promptly it’s given to him. he slides it to the girl.

“you don’t have to-“ she begins.

“it’s okay.” you tell her. “you need it after something like that. i’m so sorry that happened.”

she doesn’t say another word, gratefully taking the glass to sip it. anakin runs a hand through his hair, and then his fists rest at the edges of the bar on either side of you. if you’re not mistaken, it’s almost possessive. as if he’s keeping you safe from any other offenders that may be lurking, shielding you with his body.

after a bit of chatting, you keep your promise, the two of you getting ready to leave since you’d abandoned your drink. she appears she’s getting ready to leave too. “ani, walk her to her car.” you gaze up at him when you tell him, and he looks to her expectantly.

she glances between you. “oh, no. that’s too much trouble, you don’t have to do that.” she objects, and you feel that sense of protectiveness wash over you again. her shaken expression of upturned brows too pitiful to ignore.

“nonsense. we’re happy to do it.” you insist, and interlace your fingers with anakin’s. “c’mon.”

after escorting her, she thanks you both profusely, and drives out of the lot. anakin doesn’t say a lot, but you’re used to that. you can’t stop ogling him with doe eyes while you practically skip with pep alongside him.

“what are you looking at me like that for, huh?” he questions, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“no reason.” you reply in a melody.

“do i have my work cut out for me when we get home?”

you giggle at his innuendo. “you can’t blame me! you were so hot in there.” briefly, you surmise the interaction with exaggerated gestures and paraphrased dialogue, recreating the heroic scene in which he helped that girl.

“alright. i get it.” he sighs, conceding. “you sure you can wait ‘til we get home?”

“yeah… i might need a little help on the way home. drinking got me all tingly.”

“oh, yeah? your little parts hurt for me, baby?” anakin teases you, obviously making fun of you as he draws you into his side with a strong arm around your waist, practically lifting you off the ground as he curls into you, speaking into your hair.

“stop it!” you chide with an embarrassed grin as you land back down, continuing to walk in step with him.

you approach the car, but he doesn’t let you get in, pressing your back to the window with his body. massive hands cup your face, angling it to kiss you. you gasp, clutching onto the front of his shirt. he parts your lips with his, inviting his tongue inside to toy with yours. sliding his against it to coax it to attention. an involuntary whimper is drawn from you, squeezing your eyes shut as something as simple as a kiss makes your cunt quiver.

his wandering hands palm your hips, drawing you to him, arching your back as he leans more of his weight onto you. weight you wish was on you in other ways, you wanna get filled right now. as if he reads your mind, those roaming hands don’t stop at kneading your ass in your little dress, but one gets adventurous. it wedges between your bodies, seeking out where it’s needed most, cupping your cunt over the fabric.

weakly, you push at his shoulders, and break the kiss. he’s undeterred, latching onto your neck to mouth at it. “anakin, we’re in the parking lot.” but you don’t really care, the idea of his hand up your skirt out in the open has your hole slick with need.

“want my trophy.” with that, thick fingers hook under your hemline, and stroke at your folds hanging out the lips of your pussy. “thought you said you needed a little help.” his voice vibrating against the column of your neck sends a shiver down your spine.

“i meant in the car.”

you gasp, interrupting your own self as the tips of his index and middle kiss your clit. sucking on your pulse point, you moan quietly as he dips them into your slit, gathering the moisture. “mm - all this for me?” he inquires, and you have half a mind to scold him with a pat on his arm. his bicep, heavy and meaty, probably wouldn’t even feel it. “i can’t wait any longer.” his middle finger sinks into your hole, and you claw at whatever you can reach as you deal with the sting of the stretch. your thick lashes flutter when your eyes roll into the back of your head. “so tight, angel, should i have kept going? could’ve at least given him a bloody nose. maybe lose a couple teeth-“

“don’t talk about him right now.”

“imagine if i fucked you. right here, right now.” his tone has darkened.

“ani,” you whine, and he straightens to get a look at you. your face caked in a full-face of pretty make-up is becoming skewed while he fucks you on just one finger.

“right in this parking lot, right against the car.” he slams his hand against the metal, and the hardin smack makes you jump from fright. but it’s the fear tactic that makes you horny, looking up at him with wide glossy eyes and plump parted lips. he’s smug. “loosened up f’me.” he muses, introducing you to a second finger. it’s starting to make the wet noise now. “you like thinkin’ about me fucking you? is it because that guy could still be here? how embarrassing would that be, huh? i throw his bitchless ass out and then go fuck my girl about it.”

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#[🌸] #:anakin #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin x you #anakin x you smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x you smut #anakin x fem reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin x y/n #anakin x y/n smut #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x y/n smut #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin fic #anakin fanfiction #star wars smut #star wars x reader #smut #source: pinterest

[upsidedownwithsteve]

If you're doing the smut blurb evening, what about Steve having to sneak away with reader during a party bc her outfit's driving him crazy <3

18+

Steve has been pawing at you for hours.

Needy, impatient, almost too bold- considering the house was full of people looking to drink cheap beer and find someone to have a good time with. Robin had already scoffed at you both, leaving you in the corner with your touchy boyfriend as she went in search for Eddie instead.

“You’re disgusting,” she’d told her best friend. “She’s going home with you, you know.”

Steve had made a face at her, childish and immature but he’d stopped his hands from travelling further up your skirt all the same. It wasn’t his fault you looked this good.

One his old basketball shirts, cut off around your midriff with a pair of blunt scissors. And if that weren’t enough skin on show, the skirt you’d paired it with was almost indecent. Any way you moved, more bare skin was flashed at him. He lost all sense of composure and decency when you leant back against him, stealing his cup of lukewarm beer and his hands went to your thighs. He barely needed to move them before he could feel the heat of your cunt on his fingers, the skirt was just that short.

You’d laughed at Robin’s comment, pushing yourself back further into your boyfriend when she left and Steve broke.

“C’mon,” he tugged at your hand, taking away the half empty cup and abandoning it on a coffee table.

You didn’t argue when he led you into the first available room, a tiny bathroom, both of you barely fitting in the space. The door was locked behind you, your back already against it and the bass thudding your through spine as Steve wasted no time.

“Need to touch you,” he groaned, head dipped so he could kiss and nip at your neck, his nose drawing a line across your jaw as you gasped at his desperation. “Been driving me goddamn mad all night, babe.”

“I have?” You laughed through a moan, Steve’s hands returning to his favourite spot beneath your skirt, his thumb pressing into the front of your underwear, finding your clit with almost annoying precision. “I didn’t notice.”

“This fucking skirt,” Steve cursed, pushing it up, showing him the way your cotton underwear was sticking to your wet folds. He could see the way your pussy gave way to his thumb, how the fabric gathered around your swollen clit. He pinched it, grinning when you whined. “Been thinking ‘bout bending you over all night, d’you know that?”

You shook your head, playing dumb, head half empty with the way he kept you pinned between his body and the door. He could’ve done whatever he wanted to you, you wanted to say, you would have let him put him manhandle you like this in the middle of the kitchen if he asked nicely enough.

“Oh yeah, honey,” Steve drawled, his voice catching on a groan when he finally shoved his hands down the front of your underwear. The cotton gave way, stretching out over the back of his hand. He used two fingers to spread you, letting a line of spit fall from his lips to his cupped palm, pushing his digits against your slick cunt. “Wanted that skirt flipped up and your ass out for me. Could’ve got down on my knees right there, been wanting it so bad.”

You choked on a moan, head dropping forward to rest on Steve’s shoulder, your fingers clutching at his T-shirt. You nodded, whining his name for him, hips bucking into his hand so your pussy slid over his fingers, fucking yourself down onto his touch.

“Yeah, baby?” Steve sounded as wrecked as you felt. His lips were pressed to your cheek as he spoke, his breath warm and shaking. “You want me to show you?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve baby blurb

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏𝟏:𝟒𝟗𝐩𝐦

you roll your eyes—it’s instinct, since rafe is blaring his music again, probably waking up your neighbors and most certainly your parents. no matter how many times you ask him, he’ll never park a few houses away and turn his music down, so now the sound of the vibrating bass and whatever drake song fills the silent street. 

you close your window softly, running over to rafe’s truck as fast as you can to turn down his music. your parents have to know—the noise at this time of night is familiar to your entire block by now, but they don’t say anything. when you climb inside the passenger seat, your hand hovers over his volume knob, trying to lower it but rafe catches your wrist.

“leave it.” he says it sternly, and you understand quickly that it’s not a request, rather a demand. his own little test—how much do you care about everyone realizing you’re sneaking out with him right now instead of being tucked into bed like a good girl? the joke’s on him because you adjust the knob, making the music play even louder, so much so your seat and the windows are vibrating. you smile at him like you’ve just beat him at his own game and he takes off, turning the music down as soon as he turns off your street—eliciting another eyeroll.

he makes a few more turns, and the two of you end up on a quiet street along the beach—one of the many scenic lovers lanes on the island. 

“what’re you going to do if they actually wake up one time?” you question, playing with the strings of rafe’s hoodie that you’re wearing right now. 

“what’d you think i’m gonna do?” he asks, one big hand resting on your exposed thigh, rubbing the soft skin there.

“i don’t like to think about it,” you admit quietly, turning away to stare out the window at the waves. 

“why? y’think i’m gonna beat up your dad, or somethin’?” you laugh, shoving rafe’s arm.

“no, i just-”

“you just what?” you feel your face get hot. it’s easy to forget in moments like these, just the two of you alone and all the rest of the world ignored, that rafe is just that guy your friends hate, and you’re just the girl who sneaks out and lies to her family to see him. 

“i just think you’d drive away. but at least there wouldn’t be a witness, because they’d totally kill me.” you say it with a little laugh, but rafe grips your jaw and pulls you into a kiss—hard, like he’s proving something to you. rafe’s tongue finds its way into your mouth, everything feels hot and wet as you deepen the kiss and hold onto his shoulders. he pulls away to let you breathe, your chest heaving and his hands going underneath your—his—hoodie and pulling it off.

without words, without the need to speak at all except for your moans and rafe’s grunts, you end up folded in the backseat like always, knees hugging your chest, eyes rolling back, while rafe slams in and out of you. all you hear is rafe in your ear, murmuring low and quiet.

“lemme hear ya,” he encourages, and it’s easy to comply without the fear of someone hearing. “louder, baby, louder-” 

you’re not sure how much longer it is, but you somehow can’t avoid ending up like this—shaky limbs, sore throat, and eyes unable to stay open, focusing on the feeling of rafe’s cum spilling out of you and ruining his seats.

he eases you up, like he always does, leaning against his warm body while you try to even out your breaths. in the beginning he used to bring you back to your house, but now you almost always end up at tannyhill with him. your mind is somehow exhausted and overactive, thinking about how you’re gonna sneak back into your room in the broad daylight, since there’s no way you’re leaving tannyhill until after sunrise.

“what time is it?” you mumble against his chest, taking in how rafe strokes your hair. 

“doesn’t matter. go to bed.”

“gotta get back home-”

“i’ll get you home, kid. seriously. sleep, now.”

“g’night, rafe,” you sigh contently, ignoring a little ache in your heart that wishes you could stay here forever.

“and jus’ so you know, there’s nothin’ your parents could say to keep me away from you.”

#ummm i love him #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #time series

[paradisedumpling]

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

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TROPE: bandmates!au; guitarist!yunjin; bassist!reader; silent pining; songfic(?); angst with a happy ending

SYNOPSIS: when a love song leads to a misunderstanding between two bandmates that are unawarely in love with each other, will they be able to fix everything and save not only their friendship but a future romance?

CONTENT WARNING: suggestive themes; use of feminine terms; insecurity; mentions of overworking; the characters are not good at communicating; not fully proof readed; author sucks at synopsis; feel free to tell me if I forgot anything!!

A/N: not one of my proudest works tbh but!! if you're interested in any of the songs mentioned/played I linked them down bellow!!

THE SERAPHIMS: track_1.mp3; track_2.mp3; track_3.mp3; track_4.mp3; track_5.mp3; track_6.mp3; track_7.mp3; track_8.mp3; track_9.mp3

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Nodding your head as you felt satisfied with the melody, your right hand left the strings to write down at the notebook in front of you.

Your fingers strummed the strings on the body of your bass guitar, a low humming coming from your throat as made up melodies in the empty studio.

Your brows furrowed together as you erased and changed a few words, writing the lyrics with better rhymes and harmonies.

"You don't have to say you love me. I just wanna tell you something. Lately you've been on my mind..." You softly sang, a smile plaguing your face as you thought about the person the lyrics were about.

"Then say it." You jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, turning around to see your bandmate Chaewon closing the studio door behind her.

"I didn't hear you coming." She laughed at your words, walking towards her keyboard and setting her things at the foot of the instrument. "What do you mean, though?"

She stared at you, an annoyed expression you were well familiar with plastering her face. An expression all of your bandmates were well familiar with. But you only blinked at her, making her shake her head in disapproval at your confusion.

"You should tell Yunjin you like her, you know." You immediately nodded your head disapprovingly, closing your lyrics book as if that would make her end the subject right there. But she kept on talking. "Come on! You keep writing songs about her that are so obvious even our fans are suspecting something! Just tell her already."

"They're suspecting something because they're dissecting the lyrics, it's different." You told her, getting up from the floor. "Besides, Yunjin already likes someone." You mumbled sadly, sighing as you and Chaewon began preparing the instruments for today's practice. "Half of our last album was all about this girl she likes." You grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes at all the memories of her singing her songs with a big fond smile during practice and shows. "She spends every hour singing about how she's a thousand degrees in love with this girl and how she's her angel in the doorway and stuff like that!" You rambled, pacing around the room as you momentarily distracted yourself with your jealousy, rolling your eyes every few words as the lyrics of Yunjin's countless love songs passed through your mind. "I don't understand how someone can be so amazing to be such a muse to her and–"

"What did my spare drumsticks do to you?" Kazuha's voice halted you in your steps, making you realize you've been waving her drumsticks around furiously while rambling. You turned to face her, waving awkwardly as you watched the girl and Eunchae fully enter the studio and close the door behind them.

"Sorry, Zuha." You smiled apologetically at the girl, letting her sticks down on her drum seat. "I didn't see you two arriving."

"Clearly." Eunchae's giggles made you sigh defeated, going back to your bass as you dreaded what you knew would be coming in a few seconds. "What's with you?"

"Yunjin's unknown crush" Chaewon had a tone in her voice as she answered Eunchae you didn't quite understand, but the newly arriving girls laughs made you embarrassed enough not to bother much, simply wanting their teasing to stop and the last two remaining band members to arrive so you could finally begin practice.

"You should confess, unnie." Eunchae came up to you and laid a hand in your shoulder, her laughter dying down as she gave you a sympathetic smile.

"No, and that's final." You gave her and the other two girls as much of a serious look as you could, stopping at Chaewon to point a finger at her to emphasize your words. Then, you shrugged your shoulders, moving to plug your bass on your amplifier as you spoke again. "Besides, I don't want to ruin our friendship and break my heart at the same time, thank you very much."

"Suit yourself." Eunchae patted your back, going to check on her sound table to prepare for today's practice.

You thought that would be the end of it for now, feeling your shoulders a bit tenser at the idea of ever confessing to Yunjin. But Kazuha passed through you and dropped a comment that made you giggle, it managing to help easy your worried for the moment.

"That would make for a neat album though."

                              🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Scribbling down furiously, you crossed out another verse that would not make it to the final song, tapping the end of your pen on top of the page you are writing in a random rhythm.

So far you only had the pre-chorus and the chorus. And with festival season coming soon, you knew the deadline to produce at least a few new singles for the concerts was approaching rather quickly. But after Chaewon's comment a few days ago, you were afraid to write anything that'd be too obvious and give your feelings away.

You were about to write some new rhymes down when your pen was taken from your fingers, a pair of hands clapping in your line of vision mere seconds after.

"Are you even listening?!" Your keyboardist asked irritatedly as you looked up from your lyrics book to her, catching all of your band and your manager staring at you.

"No, sorry." You smiled apologetically, averting Chaewon's irritated eyes and instead giving you attention to Sakura, suddenly very aware of the burning gaze Yunjin was throwing your way. "What was it, Kkura?"

"We're discussing the setlist for tomorrow." Instead of the japanese girl, who answered your question was the person you didn't want to face.

It wasn't like you didn't like Yunjin's face, far from that. You would stare at her beautiful eyes and rosy lips and cute nose for hours on end if allowed to. But the realization that she caught you distracted writing songs about her made you shy under her gaze, and you didn't wish to embarrass yourself any further in front of your team and the girl you loved liked.

"What are we not agreeing on about?" You muttered nonchalantly, looking down to busy yourself with closing your lyrics book, tapping the spine mindlessly to try and appeal unbothered.

"I want us to play Nauseous and I Hate the Way." Eunchae chimmed in, sounding rather annoyed, which made you grin amused and look up at her. "Kazuha thinks we should play Sour since it's been a while and manager thinks we should play Sour and Wonder instead of my two songs."

"Chaewon and I think we should cover Paramore or Muse." Sakura gave her thoughts, sliding a paper with a few songs from the legendary bands the two girls thought could fight your band.

"It would be a great surprise indeed." You nodded at your manager's words, scanning the paper with a serious face, thinking.

"What about Yunjin?" You lifted your head to look at the girl after a few seconds, catching her intense brown eyes still on you. The girl flashed you a smile upon seeing you finally give your attention to her, laying her head on her hand as she leaned on the table, not caring that she was blocking Eunchae's and your manager's view of you.

"I'm fine with anything you decide on, pretty girl." Her words struck your heart sharply, making your heartbeat fasten in pace as your cheeks grew hotter. You lightly cleared your throat, forcing yourself to roll your eyes to look unfazed.

Yunjin was always confident and affectionate, it wasn't uncommon for her to disguise compliments as flirtatious comments. And you hated that you loved it so much even though she liked somebody else.

"Well then, Jennifer. I like the idea of the cover and I agree we should play Sour." You gave Yunjin a teasing grin, trying your best to match her energy as you snatched your pen back from Chaewon's hands and circling a few songs your friends had picked down on the paper. "But since we're approaching summer we should stay with Nauseous, it fits the season more." You glanced around your bandmates to see their opinions, muffling a giggle as Eunchae pulled Yunjin back to look at you better.

Once everyone nodded and began discussing which song you should cover for your next show, you relaxed on your chair and opened your lyrics book again, writing down some verse ideas that popped into your head after the previous interaction with the girl that managed to snatch your heart. No matter the situation, Huh Yunjin never failed to inspire you.

But you couldn't absorb yourself too deep inside your brain again as Chaewon asked a question that made the room be filled with tension.

"We could do an acoustic version of your new song."

"You have a new song?" Yunjin barely let Chaewon finish her sentence before she snapped her neck towards you, eyes a bit wide as she asked the question with a serious and curious face.

"Hm, yeah." You slammed your lyrics book shut once you realized Yunjin's eyes travelled down to it, putting both of your hands on top of it to make sure none of it was visible to the guitarist's eyes. "But it's nowhere near finished." You told the others, although your eyes were still carefully watching Yunjin's every move. Her eyes remained on your book still. "I barely have a verse yet, so it's a no for now."

The table fell quiet, everyone staring between you and Yunjin as you quietly watched each other, both being filled with bitter feelings you would hate to admit out loud. But what you didn't know, was that your members and manager all knew the reason behind both of yours defensive actions.

They alternated their stares between Yunjin and you, knowing the american's mind was brewing with jealousy at the person behind your lyrics, and knowing you were spiralling in insecurity at the treat of the girl you liked finding out about the reason behind your songs when you thought she was into someone else.

But what you didn't know was that Yunjin's crush was you, and the guitarist felt as much jealousy and hopelessness towards your love filled songs as you did with hers.

Chaewon had wanted to tell you two about your feelings for one another the moment your friends picked up on it, but Sakura had forbidden her from it. Saying you two needed to figure it out on your own for the sake of the band and your own feelings. What they weren't expecting whoever, is that you were both too dense to realize anything and too scared to confess and cause a strain to your friendship and harm the band.

So now moments like these were filled with an awkward tension as neither you friends or your managers were allowed to say anything, and you and Yunjin were too deep in your own thoughts to realize the room had fallen into silence.

"What is it called?" Yunjin let out in a tight neutral tone, bitting back her tongue to keep the venom of jealousy to spill out with the words. She stared into your face with intensity, searching any sights of the soft eyes she was well accustomed with seeing whenever you spoke about your crush. But you refused to meet her gaze.

"I'm still not sure... Jen, I–" You cut yourself, unsure of why you wanted to explain anything to her. Swallowing down hard, you licked your lips and spoke again. "Let's focus on tomorrow, guys." You gazed around nervously, silently asking your friends for help to change the subject. Luckily, they seemed to understand you.

"Yeah, Yunjin." Sakura broke in, bringing the attention back to the list on her hands. "We'll worry about it later. Right now, let's focus on the song we need to learn and rehearsing for tomorrow."

You shot Sakura a small but grateful smile, carefully turning your attention towards Yunjin and finding the girl slumped on her chair, fiddling with her fingers with a pout on her lips. You didn't understand why she looked upset, but you'd wonder about it another time.

Not wishing to embarrass yourself any further, your attention remained on the subject discussing in the table. For the remaining time there, your lyrics book stayed shut and tucked away in your bag, as did any wandering thought about your feelings for a certain american guitarist.

                              🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

A loud piercing sound invaded your eardrums as you slammed your hands in the keys of the piano, a frustrated groan accompanying it as you let your head fall back, eyes screwed shut at the headache brewing in your head.

Your bass guitar laid discarded on the floor, had long served it's tenor sonoric purpose in your composition. Surrounding your instrument, numerous paper balls of sheet music and ripped pages from failed ideas littered the floor.

Your back was aching from sitting without a resting place for too long and you weren't sure if your phone even had battery anymore, you didn't know where it was. All you wanted was to get the melody and arrange correct for your new song, but it seemed like every idea you wrote down and played didn't sound right. You were beginning to lose your patience for the day.

With another frustrated groan, you erased yet another failed set of chords. Throwing you pen to the side, you brought a hand to massage your temple when a pair of firm hands pressed down on your shoulders, massaging the tension away skillfully.

"It looks like a hurricane passed through here." Yunjin's voice entered your left ear in a calm whisper, her hot breath fanning on your neck making a shiver run down on your body. "Are you doing okay?" Her concern warmed your heart and you nodded at her question, leaning back on her body behind you with a satisfied sigh.

"Nothing I play is enough." The moment you mumbled that Yunjin's hands immediately left your shoulders to slide down to your front and hug you as tight as she could in the position you were in.

"That's not true–"

"I barely contributed on our last album!" You didn't let her speak further, cutting her words as you pressed down random keys in the piano, wincing as the loud sounds only made the pounding in your head worsen. "What am I even doing in this band anymore?" The phrase left you mouth in a defeated whisper, the exhaustion of a night full of frustration being spilled in the presence of the girl.

"Hey." Yunjin's voice was firm as she pulled back and spun you around to face her. "That's not true and you know that." She grabbed your face with both hands, squeezing your cheeks together to make it difficult for you to speak in case you tried to interrupt her again. You hummed annoyed, but she sent you a look that made you slump defeated. "The amount of songs you make for an album does not mean you didn't contribute to it. You're an essential part of this band just as much as any of the girls." You looked down feeling a bit embarrassed, but Yunjin simply lifted your head again, moving one hand to the back of your neck while the other moved to take strands of hair off of your face. Her tone became softer as she spoke again. "Besides, we all know this band wouldn't even exist if it weren't for you and your genius brain, pretty girl."

You rolled your eyes at her, but you didn't fight the small smile that made its way to your lips at her words. Despite all the frustration clouding your mind, you knew everything she said was true. Specially the last part.

Initially, The Seraphims was only a college project you made for extra grades and the band only consisted of you, Yunjin and Kazuha at the time. You all took the band as seriously as any college student in need of grades would and were all ready to break off as soon as the grading came out. But a friend of yours wanted the band to play at his birthday party and despite having only one song you wrote in high school, you insisted you all played for a crowd bigger than your classmates at least once.

After that night Yunjin was booked, but Kazuha still had her insecurities regarding the band. It took a lot of pleading and assurance from you and Yunjin to get her to attend practice again and eventually she was as invested as the two of you.

As the band grew famous and it began to be too much for three of you to handle alone, Chaewon and Sakura came to the picture through personal invites. Chaewon was Yunjin's dorm roommate and a talented pianist, and Sakura was your Valorant buddy and a great guitarist. The two butted heads the moment they met and for the first few rehearsals with the five of you it felt like The Seraphims were done for. But you pushed through every practice even if half the band was fuming the whole time and Kazuha was laughing so much she couldn't focus on her drums. Eventually, the two oldest members in the band found equal passions outside of music and a shared love for soju, becoming so close you couldn't even tell today that they screamed insults at each other every five seconds.

Eunchae was the last piece you were missing. During the making process of your first album, five young adults fresh off of music school wished nothing but to explore new sounds. And it all proved to be too much for Chaewon to handle alone during shows, so you and your new manager decided to open up auditions for a new synthesizer, something that was easily agreed on by the other girls. And thus Eunchae came in one day, a bright smile on her face and excitement oozing off her skin playing a remixed version of your first ever song Back To Me. Two minutes in and you all new that skilled girl would be the new member of The Seraphims.

Had you not glued the band together all those times, the six of you might have never been were you where or had met the wonderful person that Eunchae was.

"Okay, you got me there." You told Yunjin, giggling when she smiled brightly at you. "I still can't get this stupid song right, though." You turned back around to face the piano, rubbing your temples as you stared at the open pages of your lyrics book.

"Scoot over, sweetheart." You watched as Yunjin sat on the piano bench at your side, scooting closer to you until you skins were touching and her right leg was almost over yours, even if it had plenty of space for the two of you. You didn't mind though, turning your neck to the side as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. Yunjin grabbed your lyrics book, reading the song you wrote for her silently while nodding her head approvingly. "How does it goes, princess?" You blinked at her, not fully understanding her intensions until she looked at you again and grinning playfully. "What? We did always composed the best together."

You smiled shyly, taking a deep breath and wiggling your shoulders to release tension before bringing your fingers to the piano keys for the billionth time that night, pressing the down as you began to sing softly. "Walk in your rainbow paradise..." You turned to look at Yunjin, eyes falling to her pretty lips as the words spilled from your own lips. "Strawberry lipstick state of mind." You quickly averted your eyes from her lips, looking up to find her intensely staring right at you. "I get so lost inside your eyes..." Your fingers stop playing for a few seconds, the next words coming out of your mouth in a bittersweet whisper. "Would you believe it?"

Yunjin smiled at your dazed face before turning her face away to read the rest of the lyrics from your book. You blinked rapidly, shaking your head lightly to snap yourself from the hypnotizing aura that Yunjin had. Her fingers brushing against yours made you turn your head back to the piano keys, her sweet voice entering your ears just seconds later.

"You don't have to say you love me, you don't have to say nothing." She looked at you, her eyes caring an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it made a familiar feeling set into your lower stomach. "You don't have to say you're mine."

"Honey, I'd walk through fire for you, just let me adore you. Oh, honey." You both began singing together, Yunjin getting the hang of the song even if it was her first time singing it. But anytime it was just the two of you in the studio, there was an undeniable connection and there was never a need for much words for you to understand each other. The feeling of her fingers brushing against yours as you played together was as familiar and easy as drinking water. "I'd walk through fire for you, just let me adore you like it's the only thing I'll ever do."

As her eyes stayed on yours, your fingers slowly came to a stop. You and Yunjin stared at each other intensely, your eyes darting down to her lips as you softly sang as a soft promise you didn't fully realize yet. "Like it's the only thing I'll ever do..."

Yunjin's hands left the keys fully, pulling you by the tights impossibly closer to her, as you now practically sat on her lap. Both of your hands held her shoulders for support as your breath became intense in expectation for what was about to happen.

One of her hands went to your cheek, while the other firmly held your hip. And for a moment, you stayed like that. Eyes never wandering further than each other's lips, hands firmly holding onto one another as tension grew around both of you.

"Jennifer." Her english name fell from your mouth in a plea, and in an instant she pulled you to her. Her lips crashed on yours in a messy but needy kiss, both of you sighing into it as your heart hammered in your chest from excitement.

Your hands pulled the hairs on the back of her neck and she groaned into your lips, her hand on your hips squeezing down hard as she tried to pull you even closer to her.

You felt her tongue asking for entrance and you tilted your head to give her more access, feeling the hand she had on your hips sliding up and inside your shirt to scratch your back. You arched towards her, breaking the kiss momentarily to sigh in pleasure. Yunjin took the opportunity to bite your lower lip, her other hand going down to the hem of out shirt, tugging impatiently.

But before things could get any more heated, the sound of the door opening made you quickly pull apart from one another in a panic.

"Do you know what time is it–" Your manager busted through the door with a familiar scolding already leaving his lips, but he immediately stopped in his tracks upon seeing the situation he walked into, eyes comically wide in shock. "Oh, girls! I'm s-so sorry!" He practically slapped his hands over his eyes, turning around and awkwardly fumbling with one hand to look for the handle of the door. "I'll leave you be–"

"No!" Yunjin pushed you fully off of her, scrambling to her feet as she ran her hands frantically over her hair. "It's okay! This–" She moves to walk towards him but stops. She doesn't look at you. Walking around the mess you made in the studio, she grabs her bag in the table you assume she must've left when she came in and you didn't hear. "I'm so sorry, manager-nim! This was a mistake." You saw her wiping her lips nervously and dread squeezed your heart hard. She wiped your kiss. "I should go."

"Yunjin–" But before you could get any more words out, Yunjin bolted past your manager and out through the door, leaving you panting and all alone wondering what the hell had just happened.

                               🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

For the next few days, Yunjin had been avoiding you like the plague. Ever since that day in the studio, she would ignore your presence unless she really couldn't and had not once looked you in the eye like she used to.

Your manager had promised he wouldn't tell a soul what he saw, but your bandmates had caught on that something had happened pretty much in the first few hours of the next day. They had all tired to talk to you both about it individually, but if Yunjin wasn't saying anything, than you weren't either.

You couldn't look at the song you were writing anymore, or even spend extra time in the studio. Everything reminded you of Yunjin and that day and it all just hurt too much. You couldn't bear the idea that you might have just lost your best friend and the love of your life. It just all felt so hopeless.

Trying to talk to her proved futile as she ran away the second you caught her alone. You didn't really know what you did wrong. I mean, you were aware she liked someone else but she made the first move. She pulled you in her lap and kissed you. And you were sure if your manager hadn't shown up, things would have escalated to way more than just kissing.

You just couldn't understand why she was being so childish. Why she was so ashamed.

The different emotions you were keeping in your chest were becoming too suffocating to bear and you were afraid you'd choke on them soon. But there was no time to think about them right now, you had a job to do and a bass to play.

Your next show was in just a few minutes and it would be a lie to say the atmosphere in the backstage wasn't heavy. You would all be usually cheering yourselves together and goofing around to destress, but right now everyone was silently in a different corner by themselves.

Yunjin was the further she could from you running some last minute adjusts with Sakura on their pedals, that you were sure was just to keep herself occupied with work so no one would question her anything again. The clear tension had been stressin Chaewon so much she was probably snapping at a poor soundcheck trainee somewhere you couldn't see. Eunchae had been by the instruments silently side-eyeing you and Yunjin since the moment you arrived at the venue, clearly disturbed by whatever was going on between you and the american guitarist. And Kazuha had just brought you a bottle of water for the third time in the last ten minutes, asking if you were doing okay every time she did so.

You honestly felt bad for your friends that this situation had been affecting them and the band so much. But it wasn't your fault Yunjin clearly didn't want to resolve anything at the moment. And not knowing the core of the problem, there was nothing you could do about it.

Luckily, the time to enter the stage had quickly arrived and the show went smoothly up until fourty minutes through it.

You had just finished playing one of the songs you wrote about Yunjin and out of instinct, you turned to look at her with a big euphoric smile on your face, only to find the girl flirting with the fans and showing off her guitar.

It was a common sight in your concerts, but this time it fueled a rage inside of you that made you grip the neck of your bass tightly.

Yunjin had time to flirt with you shamelessly since your college days. She had time to play with your fool heart time and time again so carelessly. She had time to kiss you and abandon you all alone in the studio without so much of an explanation. And then she has the audacity of avoiding you and flirting with other people in front of you as if your friendship and the kiss you two shared meant nothing? You were mad.

Fuming under your breath, your hands slapped the strings of your bass guitar before you could change your mind and the crowd's surprised screams as they recognized the song did nothing but fuel you further. You could see from the corner of your eyes Yunjin and Sakura turning to you with confused expressions. You weren't playing the song you all rehearsed from your setlist.

But you were frustrated and heartbroken from all the years pent up silently crushing on Yunjin and being lead on by her flirtatious personality. Frustrated by finally kissing the girl only to be dumped and ghosted by the one you thought was your everything. And you've finally hit your boiling point. You needed to know if there would ever be anything between you and her so you could finally try to move on. If she wanted to be childish and not listen privately, then she would listen to you now.

"The crowd has come to a halt, the birds won't sing for you anymore." You sang with deep emotion on your voice, and even if they weren't understanding anything, Sakura and Kazuha followed your lead quickly as the song began. "Not like before."

The lyrics left your vocal cords with a venom you didn't know you possessed before, the crowd becoming blurry as your eyes filled with tears that carried all the feelings weighing on your chest at the moment.

The special effects team also caught up on your sudden change of songs as the lights in the venue changed colors to a dark red and you sang your heart out as you reached the chorus, not caring about anything other than letting you emotions out with the performance.

Yunjin was your first and only love. Yunjin was one of your closest friends. Yunjin was the first thing in your mind when you woke up and the last thing in your brain before you went to sleep. Yunjin was your muse. And you were hurting too much to stay silent any longer.

When the second verse arrived, you turned to look directly at the owner of your heart, only to be surprised by finding her already staring at you with concern all over her eyes. But you wouldn't back down. If anything, her seemingly out of nowhere worry after all these days of ignorance only managed to steam you further.

Looking directly into the eyes you loved so painfully dearly, you declared the next words to her. "You know all the words to the play, but all I wanted was you to stay." The realization slowly sinking on her face as you never broke eye contact made the first tear fall from your eyes, the memories from the day of your first kiss flooding your head alongside everything else and you bittersweetly sang. "Your time is running thin, cause I'm falling through the cracks under your floor."

For a moment it was only you and Yunjin in the entire world. Only you and Yunjin, and the rift between you two. Only you and the tears furiously falling down from your eyes. Only her and the guilt in her face.

And then you turned your attention back to the crowd again, the reminder of professionalism constantly in the back of your mind as your fingers burned above the pressure you were putting on the steel strings of your bass guitar.

When the bridge arrived, you leaned closer to the mic, looking at Yunjin from the corner of your eyes as you sang to her, the crowd and yourself simultaneously. "When the story comes to an end will it be the same again? When all the king's horsemen and all the king's men, they couldn't put you back together again." The bright lights stang your teary eyes just as much as the words you were singing stang your heart. But you wouldn't stop, you refused to. Even if they hit too close for comfort. "Oh, when the story comes to an end will it be the same again to you? " And when the last part of the bridge came, you fully turned to her, singing with all the emotion you could muster while fighting back a loud sob. "When the story comes to an end will you be the same again at all? At all?"

Your hands gripped the mic and you closed your eyes as you sang the ending high notes with all of your heart, not managing to hide a sob as the song finally came to an end. The loud cheers of your fans did enough noise to hide the small sobs leaving your chest as the stage became dark to prepare for the next song.

It was hard to ignore the worried stares of your bandmates, but you managed to compose yourself enough for the last remaining twenty minutes of the show. However as soon as it ended and you entered the backstage, the nearest member had to hold you as you broke down in tears.

Kazuha let you wail in her chest all the overwhelming feelings in your heart, rubbing your back comfortly as she desperately looked around for your friends for help. She didn't know what was going on yet and she had never seen you break down like that, but she would try her best to comfort you and you were grateful for that.

                               🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The time between the ending of the concert to the moment you arrived at the green room was confusing in your fuzzy mind. You could hear people calling your name and shouting at others, but you didn't know who or why. You could only assumed it were your members and staff, but you simply let Kazuha drag you along, not bothering by anything anymore.

That was until Kazuha dropped on the couch with you and a very familiar perfume invaded your nostrils as another pair of arms circled your shoulders. It was as if a cold bucket of water was thrown on your head and suddenly your mind felt clear enough to react.

You pulled away from Yunjin as if her touch burned, turning your neck in her direction with an outraged look.

"Pretty girl–"

"Don't you even dare, Huh Yunjin!" You got up, wishing to be as far away from the girl as possible, a shaky finger pointing at her face as the room quickly became silent.

Everyone wanted to know just what the problem between the two of you was. Or maybe it was just because you shouted at Yunjin. You realized you probably looked terrible with your makeup all smudged and ruined, your trembling body and rapid breathing. Maybe they were scared of you or for you. But all you cared about was the guitarist's pleading look in front of you.

"But–"

"Oh, so now you wanna talk?!" The shame on her face did nothing to sooth your outburst and you almost slapped the girl when she tried to hold your wrist again. "I've been trying to talk to you for days, Yunjin! Days! But now just because I'm a stupid mess you wanna play best friend?!" You motioned between you and her with your hands, sighing frustrated when all Yunjin did was look down at her feet like a kid being scolded for being caught with their hands in the cookie jar. "What about the day you abandoned me in the studio after you know what?! You just pick what days you choose to care for me and what days you wanna play with me now?!" Yunjin looked up desperately, her mouth opening and closing as she searched her brains for any good answers, but nothing she thought seemed to satisfy her as her shoulders slumped defeated.

"I'm sorry..."

"You gotta be kidding me." You sobbed into your hands, not even sure why you were screaming at Yunjin anymore. You just wanted to get out of there and out of her sight. It was unfortunate you had to leave with everyone else, including Yunjin. "Am I a joke to you?"

"Okay, what the hell happened in the studio between you two?" Chaewon stood between Yunjin and you as she stared both of you down with that same annoyed expression you were well familiar with, except this time it had much more concern than ever. "We are not leaving until you two at least give us some light on what's going on!"

"It was a mistake–" Yunjin tried to say, but hearing that same explanation again shattered your heart in multiple pieces.

"Am I that disgusting to you, Jennifer?" Your voice came out broken with hurt, sobs leaving your mouth freely again. "If I knew that would ruin our friendship I would have never–"

"That didn't ruin anything! I promise!" The guitarist tried to hold your wrist once again and this time, you let her. Quickly, gentle arms circled around you in a firm hug, as Yunjin tried her best to comfort you. "I'm sorry, princess." She shushed you, kissing your forehead a few times before she brought her mouth to your ear, whispering gently. "Do you really think that about yourself?"

"Why else would you run away?" You sobbed into her chest, tears staining the fancy jacket she was wearing. You could only hope your stylist wouldn't scold you later for ruining her clothes. "Why is it a mistake to you, then?"

"Oh, honey, no." With a care you knew only Yunjin possessed, she held your face in her hands and gently wiped your cheeks. It was at that moment that you saw she had began crying too. "I was just afraid you'd hate me after I kissed you."

Whispers and murmurs filled the silence in the room, everyone surprised at the revelation of the core of your drama with the girl. You didn't miss Kazuha's loud gasp as she kept her spot in the couch next to you, neither did you miss Eunchae's and Chaewon's flabbergasted inquiries, or Sakura's hands slapping over her mouth in shock. But all you could fully focus on were Yunjin's glassy brown orbs that stared at you with deep emotion.

"I know you like someone else, gorgeous." She whispered sadly, caressing your cheek as she gave you a sad smile. "I thought you would hate me after that."

"You're stupid." The words left your mouth before you could even think correctly about what to say, a mixture of a sob and a laugh leaving your mouth right after. Yunjin blinked confused and you just let your head fall back to get chest again, mumbling. "You're the one I like, if that wasn't obvious already, you big idiot."

"Oh..." Was the only thing that left her mouth.

And for a few seconds, you thought that was it. Everything was ruined. You and Yunjin were over. You've lost your best friend. You've lost the love of your life. You've lost your muse.

Then you tried to wiggle away from her arms, feeling embarrassed and self conscious about your failed confession to the guitarist. But Yunjin tightened the hold she had on you, thus preventing you from escaping her. Before you could question her or try to scape again, she began laughing.

"Gosh! I am stupid, honey. You're right about that!" You gathered the courage to pull back slightly, now being your turn to look at her with confusion as she kept on laughing. "But I guess that makes you stupid too, pretty girl."

"What–"

"I like you too, baby." Your eyes widened at the revelation, a shocked sob leaving your throat as Yunjin grinned widely at you. "If that wasn't obvious already." She mimicked your words with a teasing tone, caressing your cheeks before gently squeezing them.

"Oh..."

"Finally!" Eunchae's excited scream served to remind you that there were plenty of other people in the room with you two, the younger girl launching herself on top of both of you in a messy hug. "I'm so happy!"

"I'm glad you both realize you're two stupid morons!" Chaewon's celebration didn't carry the same tone as Eunchae's, but it brought the same warmth and laughter to you and Yunjin. "Because you are! And much more!"

"Chaewon!" Sakura scolded your keyboardist, pushing the girl aside to stand of the three of you on the floor. "I'm glad everything is fine now." You knew her relieved smiled meant more than it did at first glance. The rift between you and Yunjin for the past few days had affected the band just as much as you two individually. And now that everything was somewhat resolved, you couldn't wait for your next show.

"As someone who has been here since the beginning." Kazuha's sobs were not something you were expecting out of this whole situation. But as she kneeled down and tried her best to hug three people with her only two arms, Yunjin and you had the same sympathetic reaction to laugh and pull apart from one another to hug the drummer. "I'm so happy you're finally over the kiss and confess part. It's been so many years!" She sobbed into your arms, laughing at her own crying.

"As much as I love you all and I'm glad those babies confessed, can we get up and go home?" Chaewon approached with a more calm tone, not being able to hide her own smile as she stared down at the four of you. "I think we all need to rest right now."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely!" After taking some minutes to compose yourselves, you all got up and began gathering your belongings to finally leave the venue, the atmosphere around your band much less tense as you talked and laughed on the way to the van.

"Oh! I forgot to say something!" Chaewon spoke the moment the door of the van closed, turning to look at the five of you as she sat in the passenger's seat. "While we're at the dorm, no se–"

"Chaewon!"

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"Have you ever thought about dying your hair red?" Yunjin mumbled against your shoulder as she mindlessly played with your hair strands.

"Yeah, maybe." She mumbled, leaning down to give you a peck on your lips before dropping your hair to pull you closer to her by your abdomen. "You'd look really good with it, babe."

"What?" You looked up at her from your laid position on her bed confused, but she looked serious. She was proped on her elbow behind you wearing an oversized shirt she got from your closet, that looked extremely cute on her. "Like yours?"

"Doesn't that go against the whole 'redhead x literally any other hair color' concept, though?" You turned around in her arms, drawing random circles on her back as you looked her in the eyes.

"Does it matter?" She pouted, going back to playing with your hair as she looked deep in thought. "I just think it'd be really funny though." She shrugged, scratching your scalp gently.

"Funny how?" You pressed a kiss to her jaw, not failing to noticed how she suppressed a giggle.

"Just funny, no specific reason." She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders again. You squinted your eyes and watched her face, trying to figure out what she was hiding from you. "Red is kinda of our color too."

"Right..." You watched to see if she would say anything else, but she didn't budge. So you decided to drop your suspicions for now. "If you go back to blonde, maybe then we can think about it." You leaned up to kiss the pout off her lips, bringing a hand to hold her chin and gently pry her gaze back to you. "Why are you so caught on this anyways? You don't like my hair now?"

"I love your hair!" Suddenly, she pressed you down on the mattress, propping herself with two hands on top of you as she spoke between pecks on your lips. "I. Absolutely. Love. Everything. About. You. Specially. Your. Beautiful. Hair."

"Okay, okay! I get it!" You giggled, pulling her flush against you and kissing her deeply, sighing in content before you pulled away. "I love you too, Jen."

"Jen?" She leaned on her hand to look at you better, whining in a way you'd almost laugh if you didn't truly know her. You wonder what your fans would think if they saw the big hottie guitarist from The Seraphims acting like this. But you loved it, so you'd never complain. "No baby? No sugarbum? No love of my life?"

A laugh left your chest loudly and you closed your eyes as you could contain it. Yunjin whined annoyedly again, and you had to put a hand on your chest to contain yourself.

You really loved Huh Yunjin.

Spinning the two of you around, you straddled her hips as you leaned down and let your lips hover over hers, not quite touching yet. "When you officially ask me to be your girlfriend I'll call you whatever you want, Jennifer." You grinned at her, pulling away when she tried to lean up and capture your lips. Before she could pull you down again, you left her lap and jumped off the bed, looking over your shoulder. "Come on, Jennifer. We have rehearsals in thirty minutes." You let her name roll on your tongue, laughing and running out of the her bedroom when she tried to chase after you.

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You bursted through the reunion room with a big smile on your face, your lyrics book and a pendrive tightly held to your chest. "Good morning, everyone!"

"Someone looks happy." Kazuha said amused as she watched you walk around the rectangular table in the reunion room to set your things down at the short edge of it.

"You mean someone looks like they didn't get a single hour of sleep last night." Sakura mumbled, taking a large sip of her coffee as the early hours had her half asleep still.

"Details, Kkura. Those are simply details." Your words only served as a confirmation of what they already suspected was true the moment you walked in with those two objects in hand.

"Did you really pull an all nighter again?" Your manager tiredly rubbed his forehead as he averted his eyes between your familiar big smile and the pendrive on the table.

"Maybe." You mumbled, not being phased by their accusations as you joyfully opened the laptop and began setting things up for the reunion.

"Why didn't you go check the studio like usually?" Chaewon's morning mood choose it's first victim as she turned to your manager with a sour face. "Festival season is in five days, we need our sleep."

"I wasn't about to risk my mental health by walking in on those two again, now that they've made up." Your manager trembled under the memory of catching you and Yunjin making out before everything else unfolded. You could only give him a sympathetic look as Eunchae and the mentioned girl walking through the door with three bags on their hands.

"Makes sense." Sakura patted the man's back, nodding her head with a tight grin, probably imagining the scene he saw.

"We brought food!" Eunchae announced happily, pulling out delicious looking sandwiches from the bags and handing one to each of the people in the room.

"Morning, sweetcheeks." Yunjin gave you a peck on your cheeks as she passed through you, a big smile adorning her lips as she looked down at the pendrive you connected to the laptop. She already knew what it was.

"Okay, so!" You clapped once loudly, gaining the attention of your friends, and some complains from the oldest ones, before motioning to the laptop in front of you proudly. "I just finished the demo of our new biggest hit!"

"Can we finally play it in a show now?" The new information seemed to lessen Chaewon's mood as she leaned on the table with interest. "The first festival is soon."

"Yes, we can!" You told her, giving the girl a thumbs up as a confirmation of your words. "It's so good it might become our best concert so far!"

"So good it's Grammys worthy?" Eunchae asked playfully as she munched down on her own food, but her eyes sparkled with excitement as you confidently nodded your head.

"Come on! Play it for us!" You giggled at Kazuha's impatience, but complied anyways, being impatient yourself to show them your new song.

"It's called Adore You, and I hope you all like it!" As you opened the audio player and clicked on play, your turned to watch Yunjin briefly. The two of you shared warm smiles as the lyrics of the song that meant so much for the both of you now began playing for your friends. Soon, that would be the symbol of your love to the world.

                               🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The buzzing feeling the excited crowd gave you was never something you'd get tired of. The hot summer air had sweat dripping down your back and your chest heaving rapidly, but their cheers and them singing alone gave you all the energy you needed to go through an entire show with ease.

The sound of Sakura's ending pentatonic riff as your last song finished prompted you to look at your band in euphoria, finding them with expressions that held the same feeling as they looked over to the crowd.

"I hope you're not tired yet because we have two more songs to play tonight!" Yunjin's joy filled voice moved your attention towards her, giggling as you could hear some fangirls and fanboys losing their mind simply over her speaking. "I guess you guys still have energy left, so I want everyone to take their phones out! Come on! Everyone!"

Like stars in the night, the vast sea of people began being illuminated by balls of light all across. You stared at the sight in awe, your chest pounding from the adrenaline it gave you.

"You'll really like to record this, by the way." Chaewon spoke into her mic with a giggle. You turned to her confused, only to find four pairs of eyes staring at you with teasing smiles. You were about to question the closest member to you, Eunchae, when Yunjin's next words had you whipping your head in her direction.

"And I would like to dedicate this next song to our beautiful bassist." Yunjin extended her arms in your direction, giving you a flirtatious smile before blowing you a kiss, leaving you confused and flustered. "Babe, this is me making this official, my sorry for being so dense and my promise to love you forever."

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but you found yourself in lost of words as Yunjin's victorious smile blinded you and your fan's impossibly louder screams made your ears ring.

"Red, red desert heal our blues. I dive deeper for you." You missed your cue as Yunjin and the others began singing, blinking dumbfoundedly at her. "What a blessing to feel your love. Twilight moments with you." She blew you another kiss before her hands went down to her guitar, prompting you to snap out of your surprise and quickly begin playing your own instrument.

You quickly looked over at the crowd, silently asking if they were seeing the same thing as you, before turning to the american again. I guess you now knew why she wanted for you to dye your hair red, it would indeed be funny.

"I've been asleep so long, I'm so far away." As Yunjin sang directly at you, not one moment looking away, you could feel the deep meaning behind them and the irony of it all. It made you smile lovingly at her. "Visions I see are strong, I hear what they say." Her loving gaze made you have a realization as words she said before passed through your mind again. This was Yunjin asking you to be her girlfriend, in the only way that would be right for the two of you. "Won't you leave all your fears at the edge of the world? I’ll tell you again like I told you before. I've been asleep so long, wasting away." She looked more serious as she sang the next words. "Tell me, would you pack up all your bags, stay true to North?" And you'd definitely say yes to that. Nodding your head rather rapidly, she gave you a short smile, understanding just exactly what you meant. "You're the only one I'd do this for." She motioned to the crowd with her head, blinking playfully at you as the second chorus began, her eyes not leaving you in any moment.

You didn't approach your mic and your girlfriend and the other girls sang the chorus. Instead, you slowly approached Yunjin, minding not to trip on any cables and ruin the moment.

Your girlfriend looked surprised for the first time in the night as her flirting gaze dropped momentarily, carefully watching as you stood right in front of her, the only thing separating the two of you being your instruments and her mic. You gave her a sly grin as you brought your lips close to her mic, singing the next lyrics looking directly into her eyes.

"It doesn't take too long to heal and replace." It felt like you and Yunjin had entered a bubble of your own, a vermilion ball of emotions enveloping the two of you in a drizzling love confession. "The demons we're running from, they're begging to stay."

You two sang the pre-chorus in unison, a smile growing on both of your faces as the lyrics went on. The happiness in your bandmates voices was, too, audible to you as this time, the six of you joined to sing the chorus.

The crowd's flashlights managed to enlighten the featured of Yunjin's face and in that moment, the guitarist was the most beautiful you had even seen.

When the bridge arrived, you brought your instruments closer together as you played the riffs with excitement. It was felt like you two were flirting through your bass and guitar, and you assumed it probably looked the same. Yunjin looked up to your eyes with a joyful grin. "I adore you." She confessed, playing with the words of the song you would sing in just a few minutes.

"I adore you too, baby." Her smile grew impossibly larger and you could recognize the prideful sparkle in her eyes, making you giggle lightly.

When the song finally came to an end, you barely had any moment to catch your breath as Yunjin pulled the neck of your bass down with one hand and grabbed the lapel of your jacket and pulled you into her, crashing her lips onto yours in a heated passionate kiss.

She let you go briefly, smiling widely at the fans loosing their minds and your deep breaths, pulling again for another kiss, a gentler one this time, but just as passionate.

_________________________________________

"Ready for another song, baby girl?" She mumbled against your lips after pulling away again, a teasing grin adorning her own lips.

"Oh, yeah."

a/n: this was just me shuffling through my pop/rock playlist and picking the songs I liked the most lol, which is why you can tell the angst was not initially planned and the some parts were a bit rushed cause I suck at angst but it's okay I guess hahahajdjsjk

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thank you so much for reading!! <3

#le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #huh yunjin #le sserafim yunjin

[satoruhour]

LESSON NO. 1

a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3

wc: 2.1k

“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.

the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.

always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.

a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.

but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.

although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.

“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.

“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”

gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.

the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”

nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”

geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.

“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.

he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”

geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.

at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.

“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.

“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.

“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”

“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”

suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”

the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.

“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.

“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”

you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”

suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.

he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.

now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.

silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”

“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.

“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”

your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”

the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”

this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.

“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.

but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.

“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.

“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.

“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”

“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.

the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.

“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.

it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.

you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.

the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.

suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.

@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟

#i had to give this lore 😭😭😭 #also SOOO self indulgent #pei pa koa lovers rise #school has left me burnt out omfg ... i hate this 😭😭 what was i writing #any gals wanna help me check my wc cauusseee im out lol #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto x reader #jjk geto x reader #geto suguru fluff #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #getou suguru x you #getou fluff #getou suguru x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen getou

[nexusnyx]

oh, to be alone with you

Joel Miller x OC!Reader [8.9k] SUMMARY: Never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all. His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance. Now... this seemed like a third. Joel saw the feelings in your eyes, and he took a chance, hoping to be choosing right for everybody this time.

— A/n 📝This was a commission made by the lovely and (very patient) Grace, and I hope they enjoy the most out of everyone ;) Reblogs and comments make all the difference. — Warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors DNI. | 🏷️ age gap, slow burn, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, mutual pining, resolved sexual tension, insecure!Joel, protective!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talking, soft!Dom!Joel, praising, edging, cum play, uhm. filth? lol. you're welcome.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

In the three years he knew you, Joel never heard you sound like this.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him. Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him. Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The first thing was set in stone. The second, on the other hand, he could try to change.

He meets her in Jacksonville, after fucking everything up with Ellie.

They had just arrived, both of them. Drenched in regret, numerous traumatizing events all muddled together, as that thick air of uncertainty surrounded their relationship. Joel thanked his brother and Maria for welcoming them back. Ellie spoke so little the first day that even Maria, someone who barely knew her, tried prying information out of her.

But it'd been quickly forgotten. One moment, Ellie and Joel were in a nameless hospital surrounded by fireflies, and a month later, they were settled into a nice house in the commune.

As if nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

And there, in Jacksonville, there's you.

One of the only two doctors in town, the other being your very own old man.

All he remembered from the day he met you was your smile. Those beautiful cheeks painted cherry red, the wrinkles in the corner of your eyes, and how round and big they seemed to him as you said, "Hi. It's nice to meet you, Joel. 'm Grace."

You were. Joel had said something back. Ran away from there as soon as he could, but he played that smile every hour for the next three days before he caved in and came back to see you again.

Little did Joel know how much of a grace you'd become.

You were the only person who knew about Ellie.

Being the one who tattooed her on the second week after she arrived, Joel and Ellie decided together that at least one of the only two doctors should know about her condition, and so she told you.

Whatever Joel had expected from you, your reaction was as further from it as it could be. Nonchalance, and a sad grin. A placating nod as you told him, "you can wait here, I'll examine Ellie thoroughly and then we'll get started on the tattoo; I'll call you inside then, 'kay?"

All the compliments you offered towards the design — something Ellie drew herself — made you rise in her list of favorite people, speedily.

There was also openness. Ellie looked at you as you poked the needles in her skin with calculating eyes and Joel saw in them — if eyes could touch, she'd be reaching out for you. Hands spread open and fingers clutching around nothing. Ellie wanted to trust.

It was only a few more weeks before she confided in you and then walked up to her and Joel's place to confront him.

Demanding the truth.

The truth she knew he'd kept from her since she woke up in the car, probably.

"There was no cure."

Ellie stopped trusting him.

Joel died a little bit on the inside, but... she's alive.

He'd do it all over again.

You found him sitting on the edge of the lake with a guitar on his feet and his body frozen with dread, thinking about how hard Ellie had cried.

When you asked him, "Can I sit?", Joel thought it'd be another one of those times when you two sat close to one another in perfect silence. It happened a few times during movie nights or shared dinners in the commune's barn. Joel soaked up your presence, but that time, you had more. "You know... if one day you ever wanna hear my thoughts, professional thoughts on this whole 'cure' matter, I'd be happy to share them."

Joel had looked up at you, even though that hurt. So beautiful. "'m not sure I ever wanna think about it too hard."

You nodded. Scooted a little closer to him. "That's alright too. I just wanted to — put it out there. So you know I have thoughts about it. I told her that, too, but she gave me kinda the same reply."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, Joel. She did." No one did a sad grin quite like you. The way it reached through your eyes and touched him. "You two are so... similar."

"But we ain't." Joel knew they were different. He knew what Ellie would've chosen. "I think... I wished too hard we were."

The laughter was unexpected. "Joel."

"Yeah?"

"You do realize I know what you did, right?"

If a pin dropped a thousand miles away, at that moment, Joel would hear. With a deaf right ear or not, he would. I know what you did. Was that possible? How would you know and still have been this kind to him these weeks? Still have chosen to sit by his side, to make Tommy bug him about getting his check-ups, to be sitting next to him?

You nodded at his gawking eyes and jaw-slacked mouth. "Yeah. I'm quite good at putting two and two together."

"I... Grace — what I did—" he saw flashes of it. The white noise still echoed in him. "There's no way to know that and still be able to look me in the eye. It's why she hates me now. I — I was selfish. I took away her purpose just because I'm an old fucker who didn't wanna—"

"I would've done the same." It stopped him. The words clamped his mouth shut. "I don't have any children, but I love the only parent I have, and I would've done the same for him. He would do the exact same thing for me. Don't think he wouldn't. I know he looks like the sweetest old man ever, but he'd rip apart an entire hospital to get to me too. Go ask him if you don't believe me — but believe this: If I had a child, I wouldn't let them make this 'grand sacrifice', not even if I thought it'd work. Which is not the case here."

Joel had nothing to say to all of that.

He swallowed the knot tying his vocal cords together and looked ahead, trying to process the perspective from which you saw the situation.

Sitting in silence with you brought him peace, and that day, it deterred him from the plan that was coming together — the seed of maybe if you poisoned yourself slowly over the years you could finish the job this time.

Joel asked for your father's location in the commune, then walked with you when the sun set to eat dinner.

Ellie still hated him, and she probably would continue to for a long time, but Joel no longer felt like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean with no end in sight for his fall.

I would've done the same. The words pulled him back. Made him see blue once more.

Validation saved his life. Your approval became a pillar.

He'd continue to seek it for the next years to come.

The Earth finished a whole new cycle around the Sun, and Joel started to build a life again in the meantime.

He worked patrols and went back to carpentry.

He befriended your father, who loved calling him to have dinner or smoke a pipe with him on his porch. Your father was a sweet-looking man who hid very crazy, funny, and dark bits inside of him.

"I see where she gets it from," Joel commented.

It pulled boisterous laughter from him. "Yeah, she's a feisty one."

Joel snorted. It came out in smokes. "Feisty? Ellie's feisty. I was on patrol last month when the raiders tried transpassing. I've seen your daughter use a scalpel in ways I still have fuckin' nightmares about."

More laughter was followed by, "I taught her well."

"You sure fuckin' did." Joel laughed too. Not because it was funny, but because the memory kind of terrified him. Thrilled him. He shook his head and gave the pipe back. "Was she always like that?"

"Was Ellie always like this?"

Joel chuckled. "Fair enough." Even though Ellie was now a teenager, and Joel had only known her for two years, he answered. "I think she has, yeah. A lil' badass. A lil' feisty and weird. And funny."

"God — she is funny."

"I didn't think so at first."

"She needed to work on her delivery," your father laughed like there was no tomorrow. No apocalypse. "I like seeing her and Grace together. I think she's waking up that motherly desire in her, ya know? I always wanted to see her be a mom before I give my big adios."

"If she hears ya she's gonna smack you again."

"Eh! She's always hitting folks. Her violent little heart can't stop anyone from reaching the pearly gates."

"Morice, I've heard enough stories to know you ain't seeing any pearls."

There had been silence, and then unstoppable, loud laughter from both of them.

It was the memory Joel thought about the most after he passed away.

When you came to his house with a whiskey bottle in hand and the angriest look Joel had ever seen on your stunning features, he knew without a word being said.

He sat with you in silence as you had done for him so many other times. You cried, chopped wood until your clothes were soaked in sweat, and drank with Joel until the bottle was empty.

It had been the first time you asked for something more.

When you caved into the tears late at night, Joel saw you pacing from left to right and had no clue what to do, what to offer, but you spared him of choosing. "Can I — can you hug me?"

He complied in the same second.

The request was quieter than the wind, but he could pick out your voice from a crowd.

Joel wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

That opened up new doors — pearly gates. A year of small touches on the forearm and close proximity at every given opportunity made Joel aware of how much he craved your presence. Those little flames were nothing compared to this—a hug, and Joel's mind and body were a forest on fire.

You clung to him, rubbed your face on his chest, and refused to let go. You accepted every caress in your hair, and almost fell asleep on his shoulder.

After the hug, any excuse was a good one.

You touched him every time you saw him — even if just a little nudge on the shoulder or a finger brushing the back of his hand.

Joel started leaving tobacco and herbs on top of Morice's resting place, and continued their conversations even if he never heard the replies.

"I'll take care of 'er. Be by her side, y'know? I know she doesn't need it, but... You and her were the reason I found some happiness in here, so... It's only fair."

Somewhere along the way, you'd convinced Joel to play on Tommy's barbecues which happened every month for some of his friends.

Music connected weird parts of him together.

The strings of his guitar were one of the only guarantees he had of making Ellie smile, for starters. When she asked for the lessons a while after stopping all communication with Joel, he had simply nodded a meek, "Yeah," too stunned to add anything else; too grateful to even dare think about it.

Your request came the very first time Joel attended one of the famous Millers Sunday, and it was the reason why Joel went from feeling like a stranger in a strange town to himself again.

Tommy clapped him on the back. You, and your smile from across the yard with the fireplace burning in between, and Joel felt almost like a person.

So he sang. Played the strings even if his joints ached around the edges, played until they no longer did and his body grew used to the motions again, played every month to come just to see the smile creep on your face and you mouthing along the lines of the songs you knew.

One day, he asked why didn't you join Ellie's lessons.

"She's gettin' real good at it." He was proud of it. Joel almost preened talking of it, matter-of-factly, missing the way your eyes softened. "You like music. You like it and miss it, which not many people do. I don't even know why I ain't never thought of it — 'm sorry about that, darlin'. Were you ever interested? In learning?"

With his eyes back on you, Joel swallowed a little thickly at how gentle your smile looked. "Joel — have you ever seen me on The Porch's dance floor? Do I look like I have any rhythm?"

"Sure you do."

Your laughter. "No, I don't!" You slapped his arm, hiding your laughter in your arms afterward, and Joel was used to it. Being hit, being poked, being used as a pillow. "Stop lying to me."

"I ain't lyin'." He was. It made him smile to see you laugh that hard.

"You're full of shit, that's what you are."

"Is that your medical diagnosis?"

The giggles that were subduing came back, and Joel knew the second glass of wine had caught up to your head. "You've been spending too much time with Miss Williams."

That made him laugh. Joel did so with his head thrown back because not even three days ago he had a screaming 16-year-old screaming at him about 'manipulation of the goddamn perspective' and if that wasn't your lingo through and through. "That's rich! Oh, that's rich as fuck comin' from you."

"How so?!"

"I reckon Ellie Missy Williams's been doin' just fine with your tutoring. Don't think I've missed you and her gigglin' in the room every now and then."

You roll your eyes, smiling so wide that your tinted cheeks look carved into stone. "Fine. I'm a terrible influence. Her attitude got nothing to do with her grumpy ass 'father-figure' who taught her how to be a goddamn menace to society."

"I can hear the air quotes even when you don't them with your finger, darlin'," Joel accused, trying to suppress his smile and school his face into a threatening, menacing look.

He's hit with the memory of when you first mocked him for it.

"Don't call me her father. I ain't her father."

"Good fucking gods, you two are so difficult! Fine. As her "father figure", you need to say something. Is that better, Joel? Did the semantics change help you?"

Now, you have the same side smirk.

"You didn't say I was wrong." Your voice dropped to a whisper.

It pulled his body closer. Like gravity was in your sound waves. "I didn't."

You rested your chin on your hand. "So... we're both a bad influence."

"Seems that way," he found himself whispering too. Joel kept his eyes on your cheeks. On your lashes and your eyes, even if they pierced through him.

"Considering she's in perfect health, handles herself just fine, and is trying her best to keep the good people of this town safe... I think that's not a bad job. The whole picture, y'know?"

Joel nods and his lips tug in a smile — not because of your sweet spoken words, but because it's funny to see it. Your mind switching to seriousness so fast.

"I do love music, though," you pout, looking up at him. He recalls how the bickering started this time around, and chuckles at your late confession. "I like watching you guys better than any idea of me playing. Or singing." With a full-body shudder, you add. "That is not where my talents lie."

"Could be," he insisted, just for the sake of that—

—your smile. "Not even you have that patience, Miller."

Miller. He had to look away every time you spoke it that way. "You're right. The brat burned away the last savings I had of that."

He heard you chuckling, and then he felt it. The nuzzling of your nose on his shoulder. "Nah. You were trying to sweet talk her just last week."

"She needs a new horse," he argued with thin air over the memory you bring up. He also scoots closer to the couch so you can rest your head on him when you're done with your cat-like behavior and end up with your whole face pressed on his shoulders, your breath tingling his neck. "And you could help me with convincing her, couldn't ya?"

"I'm not gonna meddle in your Miller-Williams business," you scoffed as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

As if these two years and a half hadn't been about you and him and her and everything orbiting around that.

Joel scoffed back. "Darlin', if you think you ain't mingled in our business, I'm gonna have to be the bearer of bad news here..."

"More tangled."

"It's just a horse, Grace."

"She lost her first pet, a horse, in a traumatic even, Joel."

Fuck him, he loved doing this with you. He sipped the last remnants of alcohol from his glass hoping it'd dull the smell of your hair invading his senses. Or maybe he liked when it amplified it. Who knew. Who gave a fuck. "Fine."

"Fine."

"She can keep usin' the stables' horses every time we gotta go out." Joel was never above playing dirty. Certainly not with you. "The ones Rick tames. The ones that sense how volatile, strong, angry she can be..."

The way you tensed was twice more obvious with your whole body pressed on his side. "God, I fucking hate you sometimes."

Joel laughed at the empty curse. "'m just sayin'."

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?"

"You do and it's annoying and fine." You sighed deeply. "I'll get into yet another awkward, intense conversation with the volatile teenager about the importance of facing traumas. It'll go great."

"Better you who knows what the fuck you're talkin' about than me."

"She just stopped giving me the cold shoulder." It's a whine. You're whining at Joel about his daughter who still lives in a constant fluctuation between loveshatesloveshates with him was giving you the cold shoulder.

"It takes her two weeks to get over her lil' fights with you."

"Hmm." It was nice when you gave in. There were few times Joel could get through your stubbornness — something you and Ellie had engraved in your souls — and it felt like a win every time. "I'll talk to her."

Joel's hand moved on its own accord. From his lap to your hair, resting slowly on your head.

He squeezed a few times, and felt you nudging towards the touch. Leaning into it.

"Thanks, darlin'."

There was a heartbeat before you answered.

"'Course, Joel."

While the looks were easy to ignore, the whispers were not.

Words carried by the wind clung to his skin like the very smell of sweat after some years of running non-stop.

They spoke about him.

About Ellie.

You.

All three, mushed together, sometimes all in one go, sometimes two by two, but always you three.

Joel knew what they thought of him and you — of your time spent together.

They thought of him as inappropriate. You had always been the 'dark sheep' of the commune. The reason why people sometimes still remembered how grim and ugly it was out there. They spoke of you as ruthless, frowned upon your methods, but Joel smell their bullshit and saw beyond their condescension.

It was easy to speak with their bellies full.

With their houses safe. God, it boiled his blood to even think about it — these people sometimes slept with their doors opened because the security around the wooden gates was so great and efficient, but failed to remember or willingly forgot that all triage was created by your now deceased father and you.

It was your 'ruthless methods' that kept the creeps away.

Who screened people who seemed otherwise harmless but sought to do sordid, unspeakable things inside safe havens they'd have no problem burning to the ground.

Sure, he'd cleaned his way through a hospital to stop the murder of one single child, but at least Joel had a head on his shoulders.

Some people out there lacked even that.

As much as he wished for judgment to come only from the strangers he grew to know as neighbors and comrades — something you, personally, loved teasing him and Tommy of being — but of close people.

Maria, he could handle it. It was when Tommy spoke up that it stung.

"Don't you think it's... weird? Hangin' out with her so much? I mean—I heard from Dieter that he wanted to ask her out, but somehow when he goes to ask she's always talkin' to you." Tommy looked like he meant well with it. Those eyes never lied to him, and Joel saw the concern there. "I just don't want you to feel left out or abandoned in case she does start seein' someone, that's all."

That's all.

As if he hadn't opened a dent in Joel's mind.

A 'in case she does start seein' someone' sized dent.

It was the only time Joel gave a damn about words being spoken of him—or to him, he should say, considering it was meant as advice.

It was the first and last time.

In three years Joel never thought of you or anything he felt as inappropriate. Maybe he even should.

There were certainly dreams.

Desire was there, too. Alive and burning. Tall and solid, with the fires high enough for it to be a volcano.

But he swallowed it down.

He knew you were not for him.

He knew you were too bright. Knew he had nothing to offer but his company, some music every now and then, and everything inside of him, if you asked.

Still—he never did anything.

Even in the times when it felt like the bickering and teasing might be called flirting. In the times when you bit your lip after staring at him a heartbeat or two too long, or when you made his chest, shoulders, his neck your personal comforter, making yourself at home.

He bit his tongue during those times.

Told himself there was such a thing as projecting, and that just because you knew him, knew all of him, it didn't mean your kindness and acceptance equaled all that he felt for you.

All of the fuckin' ocean of things he so painfully, obviously felt for you.

Listening to Tommy worked until it didn't.

Until you showed up at his doorstep late at night, pissed off and fuming.

"Where the fuck were you?" Without even waiting for a reply, you stepped inside the house, pushing past him. "And speaking of being places, where have you been? 'Cause blowing me off only works the first four or five times. I know where you live, and in case it wasn't crystal clear to you, I know when you're lying to me."

So you pretended to believe his shitty lies. Joel closed the door with a sigh and wondered if Ellie was already listening from upstairs.

He imagined telling you to lower your voice was a certain ticket to meeting your father earlier than his due time.

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't answer where you've been." Your arms crossed over your chest. "Y'know, it's called Miller Sunday and ever since you moved here, that means two for one. Tell me why I endured Maria's friends the whole fucking night, hm?"

"Uh — 'cause they like you?"

"Joel."

"I know, I know." He chuckled under his breath, raising both hands up in surrender. "My bad." He nodded towards the kitchen trying to work out how to knit an excuse on the spot, and then remembered—I know when you're lying to me. "I've been... stuck in my head."

There was a pause. "Oh. Ew." That made him laugh again. "Well, alright. That happens sometimes. Care to share why you're acting as if isolation's gonna help with that?"

"Damn, I don't know, woman. 'Cause I'm old and stupid? 'Cause I listen to Tommy every now and then even though that's a shitty idea sometimes?"

"Don't call yourself stupid in my presence, it's fucking offensive." The damn heat behind your words almost made him work up a sweat. "What does Tommy have to do with this?"

"Nothin'." Joel hid his face while opening the fridge, but he knew your silence well. He picked up the water jug, and placed it on the counter behind him.

"Miller, look at me."

Goddamn it.

He turned around slowly.

You were looking right through him. Searching all over his face for something you found within two seconds.

Then, you stepped closer until you were only a few inches away, looking up at him with enough certainty in your gaze to make him feel smaller despite the inches he had on you.

"I know damn well who I wanna spend my fucking time with." It was like a caress to the face. Joel felt it like your fingertips, which had traced the lines in his eyes and face until he fell asleep a few times by now. "Never insult me again by thinking you, or Tommy, or anyone for that matter can know that better than me."

An adult. Who knows who she is. Who's walked her path.

It went unsaid.

Joel nodded along since there was nothing to do but agree.

"If you don't wanna spend time with me for you own reasons, then... so be it. Tell me about them, or don't, but—never do this again. Your brother's known me for a little longer than you, but he doesn't know me as well as you do. I expected this from Tommy."

But not from him.

"It ain't gonna happen again." Joel said it and you both could hear how he meant it.

Slowly, a smile crept on your face. "Good."

"You're smiling?" he asked, dumbfounded.

The smile widened. "I'm... a little happy right now."

"Because... I ain't gonna be a stu—sorry, a silly little old man any more?"

There was a giggle you tried suppressing and failed at. "No."

"'Cause you're gonna use this against me for the next fortnight to get me to do whatever you want even though I'm nearly a sixty-year-old man?"

A roll of your eyes put a smile on his face as well. "You're more in shape at sixty than a lot of our twenty-year-olds here and that act doesn't work with me, darling. No—I'm happy 'cause I'm surprised. It works on you too."

"What works on me?"

"My mean glance." The answer took him by surprise, and yet, all you seemed was even more gleeful at his wide-eyed expression. "Didn't know I could scare Joel Miller."

"You're gigglin' 'cause you just found out I'm scared of ya?"

"Exactly."

"Darlin' I thought you saw me as a smart one. Who in their right mind ain't scared of you?"

"Damn right." You slapped his shoulder, and it seemed to ease some of the tension he carried these days he tried creating distance between you both. "Now — since we established the rights and wrongs. You wanna hear all the gossip about today?"

Joel had picked up the jug of water, but he could switch to the cans of beer.

"Lay it on me."

The thing is — never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all.

Who was he to be one of the few lucky bastards who got one at the end of everything? What had he done to ever dare dream he deserved it?

Peace, a good life, building things again... that was reserved for the good ones.

Joel was not one of the good ones.

His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance.

All the things he did in between those instances counted for a whole lot.

It's why he ignored it until he couldn't anymore.

That was why Joel saw only his own feelings screaming and reaching so loud, grasping like grabby fingers towards you, and blinded himself to the way all those gazes you sent back were you giving him a white flag.

Joel saw what he had the heart and mind to handle at the moment, he liked to think.

Now... this seemed like a third.

This seemed like a confession.

And it all had happened so fast.

One minute, Joel was saying goodnight to Ellie. She was leaving to go to her friend Dina's house, and you were there with your glass of wine in hand while your other browsed through the new books he picked up at the library lying on his shelves.

He had been talking about Martha — to him, it was a funny story he wanted to get out of his system since it happened, and the one and only person he wanted to tell it to was you.

He was even laughing as he started it, but his rhythm faltered when he first caught the look on your face. It made him lose his train of thought. It fucking blindsided him.

Was it jealousy?

He stuttered. It was ridiculous to him — talking about the nice woman who worked at the restaurant who flustered herself trying to talk to Joel. Flirt with him.

He'd never seen that look on your face.

Could it be—no. It had to be something else. "...told her that she isn't actually, uhm... biological. What's wrong? Did I say something wrong? Was I shit-talking myself again and didn't notice?"

If there was a thing that put a frown on your face, it was when he did that.

"No." Joel became alert out of nowhere because this tone was absent from his mental register of all your different voice tones.

"Oh. I thought I did." He laughed, albeit awkwardly. "I just—I thought it was funny, that's all. Didn't even think it was possible for someone to blush still 'cause of old me. It was funny, couldn't believe why she was so flustered.

"Why not? That wasn't the reason for my face but now it fucking is." How could Joel ever demand that Ellie cursed less when this was his household? He pinned that one for later. "You're a handsome guy. Intimidating. Don't laugh at her because you give off those... vibes."

Handsome? Intimidating? Joel's mind started reeling, and so he laughed. "Vibes? What fuckin' vibes? I'm old, Grace. What does she got to be intimidated about other than the side of me she doesn't even fuckin' know?"

"I don't know!" your voice rose to match his own, and that's when Joel noticed how his pitch rose as he argued with you. Bickering or fighting, you two could end up at each other's throats within a second, and then be hugging in the next. "Maybe because she sees you from an outsider's lens? Maybe she sees what you can't since you're so busy always thinking about everything you do wrong and lose the ability to look past that?"

"All I do is get shit wrong! You better than anyone knows that." God, was he happy Ellie had left. Joel sighed, rubbed his palms all over his face and tried breathing deep to steady his voice. "I've got nothin' to offer anyone and I don't even know how we got here from a funny lil' story I was—"

That's when it happens.

You interrupt him.

Deadly, direct, and loud, you cut over his words.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

"Why not?! It's the truth."

"No, it fucking isn't! It's the cruel part of you that judges you based only on the wrongdoing and paints it as your whole personality and I'm not gonna fucking have it! It's not the truth. It's not! Not to me." When you stopped, the whole house seemed to follow suit and quiet down with you. Then—"You don't accept me seeing only the worst in me. Why would I let you do the same? I won't."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him.

Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him.

Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

It silenced him immediately.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The silence must have stretched for too long because as it becomes a physical blanket draping over both of your shoulders, your posture changes.

Becomes erratic.

Looking from side to side, you sigh. "Y'know what? I should go. We're both hot-headed idiots and I don't wanna—"

"Sit down."

For the first time ever, you obeyed him.

It took you a second—you froze at the command but stopped your movements to remove your jacket from the chair's back and sat back down in slow movements, your eyes lingering on his all the time.

Was it real?

"Gimme a second here." Joel needed more than that. Goddamn it—Joel would need the rest of his life to accommodate to this feeling. Thing bubble of pure, raw energy swirling inside of him and growing each second, all because— "You were."

You were jealous. Of him.

Your eyes never looked so vulnerable. So earnest, and terrified. "Of course I was." It comes out like you silly old man.

Joel tries to work his vocal cords. They might've been knitted together. "Why?"

Instead of raging over him again, this time, your gaze sees the real question he's asking.

Joel never believed in an air you could touch until he stood in this very room.

He can taste the back of his tongue. He sees your frown softening, disappearing.

"Because you care, Joel." The simpler answer. He waits, because he sees in your steady, careful breathing that there's more you want to say. This tone he recognizes. This is 'I'm collecting myself bit by bit' Grace, and he waits, as always. "Because... you either lost your eyesight or just blinded yourself to... you." It's nighttime and the only light in the kitchen comes from his yellowish bulb, but it's enough to see the tint on your cheeks. "Because you're—this package. Of everything real. Everything resilient, and clever, and... Miller. Fuckin' — southern charm. Stupid fuckin' smile."

It amps. It darkens. Your cheeks, your eyes. And once you seem, it seems a crack is opened in your dam, and the inevitable water comes to fall.

"I dreamt about it before." Joel is stuck in place, listening to you. "Your smile. The way you laugh, too. And — you do this thing, where you're a complete delight to people you care about. That's what Ellie means when she says you make it so hard to stay away from you, just so you know."

"You two talk about me?" it comes out choked.

You nod. "'Course we fuckin' do."

"Goddamn it."

"Yeah." Your laughter sounds as breathless as he feels. "Because of that. And more."

He nods back, thinking — okay.

Okay.

Joel might take a lifetime to feel worthy of your feelings, but if he has them — "I didn't think I stood any chance."

The confession lays on the table for a moment and when you pick it up, Joel can see it — your eyes widen, surprise evident on your face.

"You really didn't know," you whisper.

He blinks away the sudden sting and glint in his eyes, laughing at himself. "I really didn't know." He registers you knew about your own feelings, but you have no idea of his. It registers that you both have been suffering in silence, overshadowed by the brightness of your own feelings to see beyond them. "I don't think I could've handled it if I knew it before," he confesses.

"Wow." You sigh deeply, sucking all the air you can into your lungs. "I can't believe I owe that little shit fifty bucks. I don't even have money."

"You bet on this?"

The look you throw him is enough of an answer.

Then, another question pops up — and yeah. That's why the air is palpable. It's like walking through a spider's nest.

The threads might be thinner than hair, but the feeling sticks out. It sticks with you. If Joel's had a chance all this time, if all your feelings were kept safely tucked i

He only has one question to make. "Is it too late?"

Your eyes snap back to him. "Too late for what?"

"To make a move." Joel might've been an idiot, but he's keen on fixing it. "Because — in case it wasn't clear, my thoughts are all yours." From the look on your face, it was not something you knew. The glint in your eyes tells him it might be something you hoped for or dreamed about, but it's his words that set it into stone. "My time's yours. I ain't as good as you with words, but... all I ever wanna be is alone with you. You said it yourself last month. 'm the happiest when I'm with you and El. Now... you know why."

For someone who knew him so little, you always seemed to know what kept Joel tethered to the moment.

As you listened to his words, your eyes shined, reflecting the light. Joel wanted to say more things, but he decided to keep them for later. A moment when there was less of his soul seeming to pour out through his pores.

You get up from your chair, and in two steps, you're standing in front of him.

Turning sideways, you sit on his lap.

Joel feels his hands shake as they come to rest on your hips, and yours come up to his face.

There's nothing left for you to say, or ask. Joel closes his eyes in surrender. Opening his mouth was a leap — perhaps the height was what created that bubble; that huge thing inside of him that only expanded the closer you got.

Joel never felt this before.

He knew those were your lips pressing against his. Knew it was your hair tickling his face and your fingers threading through his thick hair, but he felt submerged.

Not drowning — just deep, way deep in water.

You pulled back after a second. The kiss was so soft, and yet, Joel felt you like an ocean wave.

He opened his eyes to the sight of you licking your lips, and that snapped him; something in your tongue reached deep within him, going further than he thought possible, and ignited another something in him.

Desire.

Not the need for release, or momentary rushes, but—

the real deal.

One of Joel's hands came up abruptly, taking hold of your neck, and he breathed in a slow breath before closing the gap between your lips again.

This time, he invited himself in.

Joel licked your lips open. He pulled you closer until you were pressed against his chest, and kissed you for all the years he lacked the will to kiss someone.

It was a feast.

The more he gave, the more you took. The sounds that started to come out of you only made Joel hungrier, and the more he heard it, the more he craved it.

He could already see the cycle of addiction forming in his brain.

Your tongue swirled with his slowly, in a lazy, filthy kiss. With his hands making a mess of your hair or grabbing you by the neck and chin, he guided your face to where he wanted.

When a particular breathy whine was pulled out of you, Joel's fingers tightened around you. The kiss became desperate, needy, a pouring of bottled emotions.

A joined deep dive, where no oxygen was needed.

Fuck—Joel needed to breathe. He pulled back because his lungs screamed that at him, and he laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that. His heart was beating as fast as it could, and his ears were ringing, he thought, and you were resting your forehead on his with your puffs of breath tickling his face.

He could feel you smiling with how close you stayed to his lips.

Joel really was alive, no matter how hard he fought it.

And now, somehow, he was here.

"What?" you whispered. Breathless.

That, he wanted to answer. Joel panted, and noticed you were breathing heavily too.

"'m never been in such a hurry my whole damn life." Joel pulled you back by the nape for one more kiss just to show you he meant it, and you moaned on his lips.

It occurred to him that might die by your hands, metaphorical or not.

You were in him.

"You." His time was yours, and so were his thoughts, and now, Joel thought he was, too. In a way. "Sittin' here on my lap, like it's nothin'."

"It's everything."

"Goddamn it, woman—"are you trying to kill me, he wants to say.

It gets buried in your lips.

Joel wants to devour you right there on the table. It's a place for eating, and he'd butter you up only to eat you piece by piece until half of his face was drenched.

At the same time, Joel's hands were shaking.

He kissed you so deep, and yet so slow because he wants this forever.

He couldn't keep everything inside him. Joel knew all he could do for now was kiss you because anything more might pull him apart by the seams.

When you start kissing his neck, his eyes snap open, and he forces himself to capture your attention. "Darlin'." It comes out raspy and low, pulling another precious sound from you. Joel exhales shakily. "Grace, hey."

That gets you. Your face comes back in his field of vision, and he's distracted by the reality facing him.

Red cheeks and lips, which are also puffy. Swollen.

He did that.

The glazy glint in your eyes and the wildness of your hair.

He did that, too.

"What?" you ask. Breathless voice — all him.

It hits him right there—the new stream making connections in the depths of his mind. Mine. A river of mineminemine.

"I hate to break this short, but — El's comin' back soon, I think."

"Oh!" You nod to yourself. "Right. And — you wanna wait? To tell her, and stuff?"

Joel laughs. He leans his head to kiss those pretty, puffy lips. He murmurs the answer right against them. "Nah. 'm gossiping to her as soon as she's through that door and 'm gettin' my money share of that bet you mentioned." Your gasp makes the smile stay on his face. "Yeahhh. But — I'm takin' you on a date tomorrow. Old school style. I'll plan it and everythin'. I know you well enough to not mess this up, I think."

He's messed up enough in his life. Maybe the universe could grant him after trying so damn hard to repair all the things he'd broken; a chance.

"I'll be ready, Miller."

He kisses you again. "Good. I'll pick you up at sundow."

"Is this you kicking me out of your house?"

He rolls his eyes at the sarcastic question and kisses the cocky grin off your face because he now can. He kisses it away real good, until his own toes are squirming in his boots and Joel can categorize the strength you like to have your hair being pulled by, how much you enjoy the nibbles he's unable to keep from stealing of your lips, and he's mapped the outlines of your upper body.

When he needs the stupid oxygen again, Joel pulls back but stays close.

"You're gonna help me make dinner?" he asks, low and sweet.

You hum. "Yeah."

"Thank you." Thank you, he kisses the thought on your lips. Thank you so much. "'m gonna be doin' this a lot now that I know I can."

"Oh, you're gonna kill me."

Joel's smirk comes back. "Y'know what? I was thinkin' the same thing."

Dinner is made with music playing on the radio for the first time in a while. Joel almost pinches himself when Ellie gets home with a, "Woah, what the fuck?! It smells amazing in here."

It hurts, how good it feels.

Joel never thought that feeling would come back.

According to Ellie Williams, Joel becomes "unbearable, really," and he would take offense to it had she not followed it with, "but... it's nice to see this side of you. And — I like her. I love Grace, actually. You know that. She's given me a lot to think about. Plus—she makes you reeeeal talkative, and we had a nice talk last night. Good on you."

Good on you.

Joel smiles for the rest of the day.

Tommy takes a total of one day and one scolding from you — which Joel fucking misses because of a shift of all things, and honestly, he'll never stop asking for your story of that day — and there's that.

Millers Sunday has a couple of tense first tries, but after a couple of months, people get used to the shift.

It's not that different from before.

You two were already seen side by side more often than not. Now, the difference was that Joel's arm could be found around your chair sometimes, or your hand rested on his neck, or you two shared a little wink.

A little flirtatious remark.

Ellie 'hated' it. "It's gross. You two are gross."

She said it laughing, though. Joel smiled every time he heard it.

They grew used to it, and Joel thanked the power of the peace you brought him, because anything they disliked about it became white noise to him.

All his insecurities were abandoned on the first date night he has with you.

Joel gets the house all for himself.

He plans the hours carefully because he meant what he said. He picks you up at sunset and takes you for a walk on the lake to enjoy the night sight and weather while it lasts. After, he takes you home to eat dinner, then pulls out one of your favorite board games to entertain the night and give both the time to work through the wine.

He liked to see your glee winning.

Joel was shitty at most of these, but it was worth the frustration of being a sore loser in your hands.

You soothed his bickering protests by crawling to him.

Not sliding, or scooting over — you crawled like a cat, and stole all his focus in one movement.

Joel did to you what he meant to do on that table.

First, right there on the floor.

Even though he wished you two went to the bedroom, it was impossible to untangle from under you when you kissed him until you two were panting for each other again. All that energy sizzling in your veins, pumping with dreams and wine, and Joel just thought fuck it.

There was a fluffy carpet and the duvet he'd spread so you two could sit with the game and play comfortably, and that's all he needed.

He had you on your back with your legs wrapped around his neck, lying with his stomach on the floor. Kneading the pad of his thumbs on the inside of your legs. Kissing all the parts of you he imagined. Joel stripped you from your clothes, and kept his eyes fixed on you as he searched for the right ways to unwind you.

He opened you up with his tongue, slowly, and deliberately.

Nothing was enough when it came to you.

Joel accepted right there — legs locked on his shoulders and your feet digging heels in his back —, right then — his tongue thrusting in and out of you until his jaw ached —, that he was fine knowing it'd be an endless search.

Seeking his fill of you.

He eats up the way your lips loosen when his hands are on you. "Joel, why d'you have clothes on? Take 'em off, take it off." He appreciated how you lost your eloquence. How eager you were for him.

"It's ok, 'm here, darlin."

"I know, want it closer." He loved how you took it. What you wanted from him, you just took it, and he prayed it would always be that way. "Want you in me," you whisper on his lips.

That's when he finds the strength to get up. He picks you up and resists the urge to throw you over his shoulder, taking you to the bedroom with all of his clothes still on and yours abandoned in various places of the living room.

Time sort of... folds, with you and a bedroom.

Joel finds that out on night one, and it keeps on being true.

The way all your walls are down there drives him towards insanity, and later, you peppering kisses all over the skin closest to you, the skin your mouth can find, it brings him back.

Joel gets undressed slowly. "Get on the bed." He falters a little when you obey him again, and it clicks for him. Joel exhales, throwing his shirt off somewhere. "Touch yourself while I do this."

Your eyes widen for a second, but again...

You smile first. Then, slowly, your knees pull apart and your hand reaches between your legs, where your pussy opens up in a glistening sight, and Joel has only the mind to finish his task.

It's hard not to worship something that makes his mouth water.

He does that until you're shaking, legs trembling on his shoulders and begging for him to come up—"get here, please."

It's the 'please' that gets him.

Joel goes in seek of more of them. Always more of them.

He discovers you like it when he alternates between extremes. Really slow, or a hard, or a fast, or a deep pace. Joel spends as long as he can take testing all the ways you wrapped around him can feel like and all the angles that make your jaw fall slack open.

Something about fucking you face to face, though — Joel gets to see the scrunch of your nose and your eyes rolling back when he praises you for doing so, so well. "Taking me so well. Look at that — look at it, baby, c'mon." The loud and unabashed moan you let out makes him roll his eyes, thrusting deep into you. "Keep on looking."

"Joel."

"Hmhm. What — is it — hm, baby?"

"'m gonna cum again," you whine, getting louder, and he gets more desperate. "Oh, god," you cry out.

"'s fine. That's what — I want. Give it to me"

"It's so good. Please—harder, Joel. Like you want to fuck me."

You enjoy doing it to him, Joel thinks. Breaking him so you can put it back together, or maybe it's just how you make him whine that gets to your head.

It gets louder — everything gets louder. The sounds, the bubble of feelings reading to burst and be reborn again, only bigger, how fucking wet you get for me.

"C'mon, darlin'. Wanna feel you soakin' me with your cum."

Joel sees why you enjoy it, too.

He smiles, and ascends at seeing the sweet feelings of release washing you from head to toe, and the transcendent look in your eyes when you open them and pull him down for a kiss. You came so hard he lost himself in your orgasm, mixing with his own and he cums a little more at the realization, burying himself deeper in the mess you two have made.

Your whining and panting in can only be felt, so he switches your face to his left side. "Deaf, baby."

You giggle at him. "I didn't say anything."

"I know. Just wanna hear your lil' noises." Joel kisses your neck, and pulls out slowly despite your whiny protests. His fingers come down to between your legs and he should feel self-conscious about the filthy mess he makes there, but when he looks up at your face you're watching him with a look he knows.

I'm starving for you.

Joel seals his lips on yours.

He's never leaving this place. This home he's built where he gets you, and a second chance, and the monthly Sundays with music and you by his side whispering indecent jokes in his ears, and the protective circle you create around him and Ellie ate any minor possibility of outsiders.

Joel's not missing this chance for anything.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup hope you all enjoy it!

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[sttm99]

This does not follow the first one I wrote.

I just have a thing for Shinsou, I guess.

CW...? Thigh riding, masturbating, voyeur if you squint :), oral(m receiving)

He made a mistake.

It was a mistake, you have to understand that.... He didn't mean it... he wasn't thinking... he- he was just being mean, wanted to hurt you because he was hurting and he didn't know how to make himself feel better without getting someone else upset. He didn't mean it to be you... he didn't want it to be you... he missed you. You have to understand that.

He doesn't like this, doesn't like the pretty, pretty smile on your face as you let Shinsou hold your waist and move you against his body. The way your hands danced around his shoulders, your eyes found his in the dim, red lighting of the room.

Despite the loud music, the throng of bodies dancing their way around and between you, Shinsou found a way to hold you close to him against them, grip tight on your waist, and you let him, the way you always did....

You always let him... why?

Why Shinsou? What was the appeal? He wasn't all that much like him. Bakugo thought you'd like someone more like him...

Or did he fuck up so bad you went for someone who wasn't like him? He's sorry.

He so so sorry. So fucking sorry. As he sits near the bar, his fifth cup of something, bending from the tightness of his grip as he watches you dance and smile and look so so happy. He doesn't like this. He watches you closely, desperately, he wants to catch your eye, he wants you to just look at him.

He's been looking at just you all this time, his lips are swollen and almost bloody from his biting on them. He just wants yours on his- lips. Won't you ever kiss him again?

"I don't want you that way!"

He's so sorry.... He does. He does want you that way.

"I don't like you like that... I thought I did, after all the sex... but I don't. Stop coming to me."

That's a lie.... That's a fat fucking lie! Couldn't you see he was lying?! He was just scared... because he didn't think you'd want him for much longer.... because you didn't date.... You played; you had your fun and you discarded your victims.

He just didn't want to be a victim. He was just so fucking scared of you, of his feelings, of the way his skin tingled where you touched him, and how it burned when it no longer felt your touch.

Can't you see that he's so so empty without you? Can't you see that he's so broken? Everyone has noticed it.... Do you just pretend not to see him?

Please look at him.... just- turn to him.

"Look at me, please." He whispers into the air, his voice is drowned by the music, his words lost to the deep bass that pumps round his body. He's still looking at you, tongue running across his front teeth as he watches you move.

Your skin is glowing in the light, the small sheen of sweat glistening on you. Your little dress leaves nothing to the imagination.... Not that he needs to imagine much. He's had you in so many ways.... he's touched you in so many ways.

Did he not convey his feelings enough in the soft press of his fingertips... the pressure of his lips on your pulse points... his dick massaging your walls so well? Did he not convey his feelings enough when he had you sleep next to him... wiped you clean... took such good care of your body afterwards?

Did he not show you he loved you enough for you to tell that he lied? That he didn't mean it when he said he didn't want you?

He's tired.... He can't sleep. You should be able to see it in the bags underneath his eyes, the hunch of his shoulders, the sluggishness in his walk.... He can't sleep.... He misses your warmth on his bed, against his body.

He perks up as he watches you disentangle your body from Shinsou's, you smile at him, whisper into his ear, then you're walking away... going somewhere.

"Woah dude!" Bakugo doesn't care as Kirishima exclaims, arms quickly reaching to hold him because he got up too fast.

Bakugo's body sways a bit because he did get up too fast, then he's pulling away hastily, eyes desperate as he follows you to wherever it is you're going to.

He doesn't understand how his friends had managed to drag him to the bar/club. But he doesn't care, because he saw you, and now he was going to have an opportunity to talk to you... to make you see that he regretted everything he said, and regretted nothing that you did together.

"Now you're the one coming to me." Your words and your voice hit him harder than expected.

You're sitting on the steps leading to the back exit of the club.... it's abandoned, probably a fire escape or something, and the music isn't so loud here, so you both don't have to scream or yell in order to hear each other.

But you look tired as well. He can see it because he knows you so well. He misses you.

"I'm sorry," he whispers as he comes to sit next to you, keeping his distance a bit. He doesn't want to scare you off... doesn't want you running away and back to Shinsou now.

He wants to touch you, though. His heart is hammering, he can almost feel a pit in his stomach, and his palms are sweaty. But he doesn't care, because you're next to him now.

He licks at his chapped lips.

"What are you sorry about?" Your face is blank and your voice is void of emotion. He can't tell what you're thinking, and that scares him, because it means you're closing yourself off from him now.

You're pulling away as he's so desperately trying to reach you.

"What I said," his voice is desperate. "I didn't mean it, I promise. I-"

"You wanted to hurt me, right?" Is what you say. You're not even looking at him. Your gaze is focused forward at the metal door, your hands are playing with the hem of your little dress.

"I didn't... I just- I didn't want to hurt myself." His words are fast, tumbling it awkwardly as he tries so hard to hold on to you.

You're pulling away. Please stop. Please stop pulling away from him.

"By making me feel this way? You're protecting yourself by making me feel this way? The fuck is that?"

You're angry now. He thinks. Your jaw is hard, and your eyes are no longer blank. They rage a bit. You're angry at him.

"I didn't.... I don't-" He's holding his head in his hands now, trying to bring out words to convey how he feels. It's not that he doesn't know... he knows how he's feeling, what he wants.... he just wants to explain it to you, in a way strong enough to hold you close to him.

"Baku-"

"I've seen the way you treated boys. The way you just throw them away. I didn't want to be just one of your numbers. And... and fuck, I like you okay? A lot.... and I don't think I could have handled it if you showed me that I wasn't special. That I was just like all the others to you. I didn't want to feel that."

Are his words, and it hangs so heavy in the air, you pause for many moments before you reply.

"You are special to me. Obviously. I showed it, Katsuki. You just refused to believe me." You whisper, long sighs falling from your lips as you head hangs low.

"Well, I believe it now," he says, scooting closer to you. "Look at me, please...."

"I can see you-"

"But you're not looking." He interrupts you, thick fingers reaching to grip your jaw and turn your head to him. The desperation in his eyes is clear, it's so very clear you feel it. "I'm sorry."

You are silent for a while, your eyes search his and your lips quiver. He can see your expression beginning to fall, and your eyes beginning to turn glassy.

"Then why would you say such horrible things to me?" Your voice breaks, so does his heart.

"I was lying. Baby, please, I was lying.... I just.... You know I'm stupid when it comes to these things.... I didn't know how to handle myself without hurting you."

He says so desperately, his arms coming to wrap around your shoulders, pressing your body against his side. His hand on your chin goes to cradle your jaw, thumb stroking at your cheeks. His touch is hot, a bit wet, but it's so comforting.

You feel so good tucked into his side. You belong there, by his side.... more so than you do under him. He loves you under him.... but the comfort he feels when your body is nestled so deep in his side, vulnerable yet trusting him not to hurt you, is incomparable.

"How can I trust you not to hurt me anymore?" You say softly, slowly.

"I won't." He promises, his chin resting atop your head and his lips whispering into your hair. "I promise I won't. I'll treat you good, baby. I'll treat you so good. So so good, I'll hold you, and- and I'll love you... I promise, I'll love you so good."

He thinks you're crying now. Because he can't see your face, but he can feel your body shake. His plan is rubbing at your back.

"I promise I'll love you, (Y/n)." He presses a kiss to your hair. "I love you. I do. I'll show it too. I won't hurt you again...."

For the next few moments, all he does is rub your back and kiss your hair. And you're content. Both of you.

But it doesn't last long.... because minutes later you're sat straddling his left thigh, hem of your dress bunched up at your hips and top of it pulled down to your waist. Your head is buried in the crook of his neck, muffling your needy whines and moans.

Your rubbing yourself desperately on his thigh, and he keeps flexing it, bouncing it upwards and down, fingers rubbing at your clit, groping your thighs and squeezing at your breast as he urges you- begs you to come undone on him.

Soak through his trousers, just finish for him.

"Yeah... keep going, baby.... fuck." He groans, before his hands are leaving your breasts and fiddling with the zipper of his trousers. "Fuck... fuck yourself on me, baby...."

His cock is out, and it's so so hard it hurts. His palm is moving on it, he's stroking himself in tandem to your back and forths on his bouncing thigh.

He's hot. Both of you are, and he's sweaty, but it feels so good... your folds rubbing and leaving such a sticky mess on him as you keep whining, and whimpering and clutching his body so tight as you near your release.

You pull back, eyes cast downwards, watching his large palm fist his cock, reddened tip oozing pre-cum that drips across his knuckles. You move yourself faster on his thigh, grind down harder, harsher. He brings his head forward and sucks your left nipple into his mouth, drawing a loud, desperate moan from your lips, your head falling backwards.

"Katsu-" you whine. "Katsu... I'm close- fuck."

"Yes- shit shit. Baby, keeping going, yeah?" He groans against your spit stained nipples, fists tight around his twitching cock. "You're gonna make a mess on me."

You groan, your legs shaking and body tensing.

He feels the moment you cum, feels your cunt spasm, your fluids pooling on his trousers.

He's still fucking his fist as he watches your body tense, back bending and your whole chest in full view, glistening from your sweat and your breasts are in his face, his saliva dripping drown them.

It's fucking hot.

It's even hotter when you get down from his thigh, position yourself between his legs and suck his twitching cock into your hot, wet mouth.

He cums as soon as your tongue touches the underside of his cock's head. His hips jolt up, hands quickly grabbing the back of your head as he holds you in place and releases a deep, primal groan, thick ropes of cum shooting down your throat.

You keep sucking him till he's done, till his dick stops spurting his seed into your mouth, and begins to soften. Then you're pulling your mouth away from him, releasing his wet, softening dick with a soft 'pop'.

He looks down at you, his chest heaving and his eyes dazed, looks down at how you smile up at him. He didn't pull his hand away from your head, switching instead to soft rubs against your head.

"I love you. You know that, baby?" He sighs.

"Is it cause you just came in my mouth?" You raise a brow. But he can tell you're teasing.

He chuckles breathily. "It's cause I'm looking at you and I know I love you."

You're standing up, tugging your dress down and pulling the top up to cover your breasts.

"I told you first, didn't I?" You ask as you sit next to him again, tucking his flaccid dick back in his pants. It's almost weird that you're comfortable enough to that for him. "I said I love you first."

He nods, but the memory is bittersweet for him, because he didn't say it back, pretended like he hadn't heard you.

"I still love you, Katsuki. You know that, right?" You whisper softly. "You should have known you were special to me from that moment."

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, burying his head in your neck. "I'm sorry.... I'm sorry. I love you..."

You try to nod against him, to let him know you understand.

"Let's ditch these guys and go back." You suggest.

He nods, grinning into the skin of your neck. He's not letting you go again. Bakugo's tired of stupid lies and stupid mistakes.

"Yeah... let's go."

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou smut #bnha x reader #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki smut #katsuki x reader

[blooming-violets]

For Inexperienced Smut Prompts

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

With Andrew! Peter Parker x reader ❤️❤️❤️ !!!!!!

Not So Innocent || Inexperienced Smut Prompts

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!virgin!reader]

Warnings: Alcohol use and depictions of being intoxicated, a lot of dry humping and fingering

A/N: I changed the quote just a tiny bit to “I didn’t know you were so innocent" because it fit better. Same vibes though.

You weren’t used to being dragged along to parties, especially one’s held in a large penthouse overlooking the city. The host of the party was a friend of a friend of a friend. At least, that’s what your roommate said. She desperately wanted to attend with her boyfriend but was too nervous to go without you. She promised to find you a date so you wouldn’t be third wheeling despite your claims that you’d rather not attend at all. Somehow she had managed to convince you to get dolled up in clothes that weren’t your own and make an appearance. You trailed behind her and her boyfriend as the three of you walked out onto the wrap around terrace. 

The night air was warm and the sounds of the heavy bass booming out of the speakers reverberated inside your heart. You couldn’t even make out what music was playing; it was too loud. You scrunched up your face in distaste, fidgeting with the bottom of the short skirt of your dress, and pushing your way next to your friend. 

“Is this really worth it?” You shouted over to her. 

She either couldn’t hear you over the noise or was choosing to ignore you, “Look! Over there!” 

She grabbed your hand and dragged you over to an elegant, glass table in the middle of the terrace. It was completely covered with different types of alcohol. You weren’t really educated well enough to be able to tell the difference between them all. She poured you something clear and shoved the cup into your hand. 

“Drink this!” She practically forced you to tilt the cup to your lips and held her hand under the bottom while you drained the contents. 

You were sputtering and gagging by the time it was finished, “That was horrible!”” 

“I know, it was pure vodka,” she laughed. “But it will get you loosened up.”

You felt like vomiting. She poured you something else. 

Her boyfriend leaned between the two of you to point over at someone. “Matty is over there. Why don’t you go talk to him?” 

You turned to see where he was pointing. Matt was the guy who was supposed to be your date tonight. He played college football with your roommate's boyfriend. You gave an unenthusiastic smile. That was supposed to be your cue to leave the two of them alone so they could enjoy their night as a couple. You weren’t sure what the point of your coming was. It wasn’t like your friend was planning on actually spending time with you. 

You reluctantly made your way over to Matt and gave him an awkward wave, “You’re Matt, right?” 

He nodded, “Yeah. My friend’s call me Matty, though.” 

“Great,” you replied. You weren’t a friend so you thought you’d stick with Matt. “Uhm, nice to meet you, I guess.” 

He looked you over, overtly eyeing up and down your body. You curled into yourself under his gaze and quickly started drinking whatever was in your cup. It tasted like bleach and lime. You did your very best not to make a face of disgust and keep drinking. 

“You’re supposed to be my date then?” He asked. 

“I guess,” you shuffled the toe of your foot against the ground. “Do you-”

He cut you off, “I was told you were really hot.” 

You laughed at that. It was a self deprecating, uncomfortable laugh. He was already heavily intoxicated, swaying on his feet. You wanted to go home. The forced smile faded from your face as you turned your sights to look out over the city. 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you stated, feeling like shit. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him shrug, “Nah man. It’s cool. You’re still hot but, like, a prudish kind of hot. Like how the pastor’s daughter is always smokin’ hot but you know she’d never actually go down on you, so you don’t even try to bark up that tree, ‘cause it leads nowhere. Not really fuckable, ya feel me?” 

You didn’t feel him. You felt insulted for some reason. As if being called unfuckable by a drunk stranger was the worst thing you could ever be called. Matt was clearly looking for one thing tonight. He wanted someone easy. He took one look at you, uncomfortable in your roommates clothes, and could instantly tell you weren’t that kind of girl. She could dress you up but she couldn’t change your personality. You were self-conscious and fidgety. Even this dumb jock could see that. Before you could reply, Matt’s attention got pulled away by a group of giggling girls throwing heart eyes at him. He didn’t say a word as he stumbled away, already forgetting your entire existence. 

And, just like that, you were left alone at a party you didn’t want to be at. 

You finished the drink in your hand despite wanting to gag every time it touched your lips. You were already starting to feel the effects of the two drinks. You had never drank in your life so it didn’t take much to make you feel funny. Your skin sort of felt tingly and your thoughts were slow and lazy. Even though you were left on your own, you felt a sudden rush of happiness pushing away the shame. The music was starting to sound less terrible, too. It made you want to dance. You were beginning to feel invincible. Confident. Matty could go fuck himself. You were totally fuckable. You were hot. This dress was super sexy and slutty and short and you were an absolute babe with it on. You could do anything you wanted. You felt like if you stood up on these rooftop railings and jumped, you would simply sore away into the sky like a bird. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

A vaguely familiar voice popped up behind you before you had time to test your theory of flight. 

You turned around to come face to face with Peter Parker. He was your lab partner for biology. You two usually only ever spoke about class related topics but it was still nice to see a familiar face. You always found him to be very sweet. 

“I wouldn’t expect to see you here, either,” you responded with a big smile. 

Peter laughed, “I guess us nerds don’t usually get invited to rich people’s rooftop parties.” Once the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, afraid that he offended you. He quickly added, “Not that I think you don’t belong here! Or that you’re a nerd. You’re very pretty. Not that nerds can’t be attractive. That’s just a dumb stereotype. I think you’re really smart and you have a nice smile and you look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty other days. And not that it matters what you look like. Or…well…I mean…I don’t remember what I was originally talking about…I think I’m drunk.”

The crimson blushing over his cheeks was incredibly endearing. You found yourself leaning in closer. You knew he was always handsome but, tonight, he looked beautiful. Radiant. Mesmerizing. 

You think you might be a little drunk, too. That first cup your friend made you chug was causing your thoughts to swim. The second cup only sealed the deal. 

“Thank you!” It was all that needed to be said. Also, because you sort of forgot what he was saying, too. You got distracted by the way his lips formed each word. They were lovely lips to look at. “I think…” 

His blush deepened and he hid behind the beer bottle in his hand as finished off the contents, “Do, uh, do you want to dance? With me, I mean. Or by yourself is fine too but I’d hope it was with me. That’s why I’m asking. For your hand. Not in marriage! To dance with.” 

You weren’t a dancer but you didn’t think Peter was either. That made you feel more confident in accepting his offer. 

“Okay,” you nodded, laughing at how he managed to out awkward you. 

He took the cup from your hands and put it onto the first table he saw along with his own empty beer. Then, he took your hand and pulled you inside, onto the dance floor that had been set up in the living room cleared of furniture. The feeling of your hand in his, the way he easily maneuvered you through the crowd, sent an excited, pulsating electricity shooting up your spine. Peter found a nice spot off to the edge of the crowd. There, you two could still enjoy the energy without being trampled on by all the sweaty bodies. 

An unspoken tension settled in the air between you and Peter. You were drawn to him. Captivated by him. You’d often spend the two hours of your lab huddled up close to his face while sharing a microscope but this felt different. Stronger. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his body moved. It might be the alcohol talking but he seemed to have a natural flow to his movements. You felt in sync with him. Your eyes shamelessly traveled down his body, much like Matt had done to you earlier. Only instead of feeling nervous like you had, Peter merely smirked, the smile flashing over his lips. Without his usual oversized sweatshirt, you could easily make out the strong muscles of his biceps as they pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his arms. You would have never guessed he was hiding those under there. 

You got lost in the music, loving it a million times more than when you first entered the party. You were moving, swaying, and bouncing along to the beat. Peter was right there with you like he was reading your mind, or reading your body, able to anticipate which way you were swaying and following your lead. The rest of the party faded around you as your eyes locked with Peter’s. It was just the two of you and the unfamiliar sensual tension clouding the air, growing thicker with each passing second. 

You were not a prude. You were not the preacher’s daughter. Matt could go fuck himself. He had no idea what you were like. All he did was take one look at you and thrust his own narrative on your shoulders. Yeah, maybe you were still a virgin, but you gave a guy a blow job. Once. In your senior year of high school. That qualifies you to be a part of a Non-Prude Club. Fucking Matty, that piece of shit. A big giant turd. That’s what he was. His brain had probably been hit one too many times during football anyway. You didn’t even think he was that attractive. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t fuckable? You bet he never thought of that!

Peter didn’t think you were a prude. He thought you were pretty and he wanted to dance with you. That means…well, it doesn’t mean much, but your vodka fueled brain was trying to connect some kind of dots together. Peter wanted to fuck you. That was probably it. Or maybe that was Matt who wanted to do that. Not Peter. You were getting them confused. 

No, no, Matt didn’t want to fuck you. Or he did but he didn’t think you would let him. 

And he was right. You wouldn’t have let him. He was kind of gross. 

But, Peter…

“Am I fuckable?”

His eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

“What?” Did you say that out loud? Shit. “I didn’t say anything!” 

His smile grew. He leaned down to speak directly into your ear, “Yes. You are.” 

Heat flooded your face. Holy shit. A nervous, intoxicated laugh tumbled from your lips. The song changed to a new track and your eyes lit up. 

“I know this one!” You excitedly bounced on the balls of your feet. 

“Everyone knows Britney Spears,” Peter laughed at your enthusiasm as I’m a Slave 4 U blasted out the speakers. 

Someone bumped into you from behind and sent you tumbling into Peter’s chest. He steadied you back onto your feet. Instead of moving away, you embraced the closeness, feeling bold, and wrapping your arms around his neck. His eyebrows raised, slightly taken off guard, but he quickly settled his hands comfortably around your waist. The electricity in the air heightened. You wanted Peter to touch you forever. There was not a single other person in this party except for him. You smiled up at him through hazy eyes. 

“I never drank alcohol before tonight,” you confessed. Something in his eyes felt safe, like you could tell him all your secrets and he wouldn’t tell another soul. He would keep you safe. A protector. “I don’t think I’m too drunk, though. I think I’m just happy. I could still totally drive a car.” 

That was a lie. You didn’t even have your license. It felt pointless when you grew up in the city. 

Peter chuckled. It was a nice sound. 

“I didn’t know you were so innocent,” he teased. “Never had a drop of anything before?”

You feigned a gasp at his comment, “I am not innocent! Why are people always assuming that about me tonight? What vibes am I giving off? My roommate told me these were some of her favorite slut clothes. Apparently they’re doing nothing to help my image.” 

“Oh, trust me, they are,” He nodded with appreciation for her tight fitting outfit. Then added, “You’re at a happy drunk level. Me too…but that might just be because you’re here with me.”

Your stomach tumbled with excited butterflies. With Britney Spears cheering you on, you pushed your body closer, brushing against his. As you swayed to her hypnotic beat, you purposely rubbed your hips into his. The moment you made contact, you felt his arousal. Solid and hard against you. 

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening in shock. You hadn’t been expecting that. That was because of you. You had given him that. You. Peter’s eyes had closed and his lips parted when you pushed against him. For a split second, it looked like he was going to let out a moan right there in front of everyone. His eyes shot open when he realized what was happening and a slew of slurred, bashful apologies tumbled out of him. Before he could get too embarrassed, you silenced him by repeating the movement. This time, locking eyes with him with a defiant stare, as you rubbed your pelvis over his erection as if you were daring him to stop you. 

You would show him you weren’t innocent. You would prove him wrong.

He licked his steadily drying lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was completely speechless, utterly in awe. This was a new side of you, one you hadn’t even known existed before tonight. A horny, needy side. It only took him until the chorus to snap out of his stunned daze. His hands traveled up your sides, curving around your waist, then traveling back down. He hovered over your butt, watching your reaction to see if you’d object. When all he got a quiet smirk urging him on, his large hands cupped your cheeks. You could feel your dress riding up your thighs as he squeezed you, bunching up the fabric. He pressed you closer, holding you tightly against his erection. You tightented your grip around his neck, smooshing your breasts against his chest, and feeling the flood of wetness rush to your core. 

I’m a slave for you. I cannot hold it, I cannot control it. I’m a slave for you. I won’t deny it, I’m not tryna hide it.

Britney was always right. You really were trying to have him dance up on you. You could not control it and you won’t deny it. Truer words had never been spoken. 

You felt weak. A good kind of weak. Like your knees might give out at any moment and your head was spinning but everything felt wonderful. A happy drunk. That’s what Peter had called it. Or a horny drunk. Maybe both. 

The more you held his gaze, the more attractive he became. You didn’t think that was possible but here you are. The flecks of sparkling light reflected off those beautiful hickory colored eyes. You were lost in them. Lost in his magnetic pull. His lips were centimeters from yours. He wanted to kiss you but he was letting you close the gap, giving you the choice. You took a shuddered breath and smashed your lips together. It might have been a little too eager and aggressive but Peter easily remedied your attack. He softened his lips and gently eased open your mouth with his tongue. The butterflies in your stomach turned to a frenzy at the feeling of his warm tongue gliding across yours. It reminded you of a dance. Much like your bodies were still pressed together and swaying to the music, your tongues were having their own party. 

When your breath became short, you carefully pulled yourself back with a dazed smile. 

Peter’s smile matched your own. The alcohol swam in vision, giving him adorable bleary eyes. He looked more relaxed than you had ever seen him. 

“Have you had your fill of dancing?” He asked once the song ended. 

You had forgotten you were even in a room full of people. You glanced around you, noticing Matt eyeing you from the other side of the room. He looked impressed, wondering if he had gotten the completely wrong impression of you. He raised his drink and winked in your direction as if to apologize for his own mistake. It made you giggle. You flipped him off with a smile. 

You turned back to Peter, the smile still lingering on your face. You were enjoying the tension between the two of you. You liked the dangerous excitement of rubbing up on Peter in the midst of a crowd. You were afraid of the moment ending if you left but your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air. 

“Let’s go back outside,” you offered. “The music is just as loud out there.”

Peter nodded in agreement. You had the feeling he would have gone anywhere you asked him to. He took your hand and tugged you towards the terrace. The entire glass wall opened up to make a seamless transition from the inside of the penthouse to the out. The night air felt cool in your throat. It helped soothe the pounding heartbeat in your chest. A coiled up excitement resided in the pit of your stomach from your adventures on the dancefloor. You wanted more. 

Peter pushed his way to the corner. It was the one place the lights failed to reach. It felt like a very purposeful spot to bring you. He turned around, leaning against the railing, and studying you with burning, passion filled eyes. His gazed forced your own downward, like he was a blazing fire, too bright and hot to stare at for too long. Except now you were now looking directly at what had been pressed against you. 

His dark, skinny jeans left little to the imagination. While the stiff material kept him from achieving his full potential, the bulging outline over his inner thigh was more than enough to get the idea of what he was working with. Truthfully, you had no idea what was considered large or small when it came to dicks. Like with alcohol, your knowledge was limited. But Peter looked quite big to you. He was clearly very excited to be in your presence. That was the nice thing about men. You could always tell when they were attracted to you. You were enjoying the power it made you feel. You felt sexy. Fuckable. 

You had been staring at it for too long. You needed to avert your eyes back to his face. 

When you finally forced your gaze back where it belonged, Peter was smirking at you. He had enjoyed watching you get lost in the sight. He liked knowing that his body was showing you how attractive he found you. He wanted you to know. It wasn’t a secret. Before you could allow yourself to be embarrassed, you twirled around, letting your skirt flare up around your thighs and started dancing again to the music. The perfect distraction. He caught you in his grasp, spinning you away from him, and then pulling you close. He was more suave than you gave him credit for. He might actually have some decent moves. 

You turned around in his hold, leaning your back against his chest. Peter’s arms naturally snaked around your waist to hold you to him. He tightened the hold so your bottom was rubbing once more against his bulge as you lazily swayed back and forth. Your dancing was more of a  gentle rubbing at this point but you didn’t mind. Whatever kept you locked to Peter was okay in your eyes. You wanted to keep him excited. 

His face leaned down, his cheek brushing against your hair, and you heard him inhale the scent of light, floral perfume. You could have sworn you felt his bulge twitch. You had to refrain from squeezing your own thighs together at the thought. Tingly, hot sensations were flooding your core. The need to thrust your hips or rub yourself on something was becoming stronger. 

You swore Peter could sense the subtle change in your breath because, as if he knew how aroused you were getting, his hands started to travel. They slid down your thighs until they reached the bottom of your dress, gliding the material through his fingers. 

“I’ve never seen you wear a dress like this before,” he breathed, voice ragged, in your ear. “I like it.” 

Your ears felt like they were burning, your chest was tight, your toes wanted to curl in your flats. All from the sound of his voice. Of course he had never seen you wear a dress like this. The only other time he saw you was in your early morning lab. He was used to your oversized cardigans, comfy leggings, and a permanent sleepy expression. 

His hand slipped under the loose hem of the dress. He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you’d say something, when no objects came he glided over your underwear to rest on your bare hips. The back of your skirt lifted with his wrists to expose the bottom cheeks of your butt. You could feel him lean back enough to get a quick look. He seemed to like what he saw because he almost immediately ground his hips against you. 

You couldn’t stop the gasping moan that fell from your lips. Your body felt alive. You could feel the jolt of electricity shoot from your nipples down to your clit. You pushed back, grinding your bottom into his erection. You had no idea what had gotten into you but you couldn’t stop. His obvious arousal only fueled your own spreading fire. 

Even your nipples were painfully erect. Your friend had assured you that this dress had a built in bra and you wouldn’t need to wear one. That was a load of bullshit because it was obvious how hard your nipples were poking out. Your breath was becoming labored. You were in the middle of a rooftop party, actively grinding on your lab partner, and drunk on whatever the hell energy Peter was giving off. It wasn’t even the alcohol that was making you act like this. It was all Peter Parker. 

You turned in his grasp, throwing your arms around his neck, and finding his lips. He fell back against the railing with your sudden enthusiasm. He managed to keep himself from falling and slid his leg between yours. Without even thinking about it, you rested your core against his thigh. The wetness seeping into your underwear was now blatantly evident to you. Give it a minute and Peter would surely become aware of it, too. 

His hands roved hungrily over your body without any more hesitation. You opened your mouth, letting in his tongue, as he fervently attacked your lips. You angled your hips downward and thrust them against his jeans. Your aching clit screamed in pleasure at the delicious friction. Peter was back under your skirt and cupping your bottom. He helped push you along, easing the aid of you grinding against his thigh. 

His mouth left yours to leave sloppy, wet kisses along your cheek and down your neck until he found a spot he liked. He suctioned his lips to a pulse point and began sucking and nipping at your soft skin. Your eyes rolled back, mouth parted, at how wonderful it felt. A mix of pain and pleasure. He was bruising your neck, claiming you as his own with a visible mark. You let him dominate you, manipulate you however he pleases. You were his. A slave for Peter Parker. 

When he slowly pulled back from your neck, a trail of saliva connected your skin to his bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the corner of his lips tugging into a satisfied smile as he admired his work. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life. 

“Do you need a break?” He whispered, his voice hardly heard above the obnoxious techno music now playing. 

You swallowed. You probably should stop. You should probably slow down. You were getting too lost in your own feelings. But you shook your head “no”. You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to have to pull yourself away from him. 

“I told you,” you whispered back, resting your forehead against his. “I’m not innocent.” 

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, the amusement coating his voice. “If I dragged you into the nearest coat closet right now, what would you do?” 

You didn’t hesitate in your reply, lust dripping with every syllable, “I would let you touch me however you wanted.” 

That was it.

Peter shoved his way past any person who stood in his way. He lead you through the crowd, swerving and weaving between sweaty bodies. The penthouse was huge. The first door he opened was the bathroom but it left too much probability of someone potentially needing to use it. The next was a guest bedroom. That one was already taken. The three people inside of it weren’t too pleased to see two more show up unannounced. The third was nearest to the elevator. It was a narrow, walk-in closet filled with fancy coats and shoes. 

“Jackpot,” Peter muttered under his breath. 

He pushed you inside and shut the door behind him. It was decently sound proofed in here with all the jackets. The music instantly muffled into the distance. You tugged on a gold chain hanging from the ceiling to flick on a single bulb. It wasn’t much light but it was enough. You turned to face Peter, the spell from outside starting to crack as the nerves set in. You might not have been entirely truthful when you told him you’d let him touch you however he wanted. The thought of losing your virginity in a closet wasn’t exactly how you envisioned it. 

Peter’s smile softened when he caught the apprehensive glint in your eye. He reached out his hand and tugged you close to him as he leaned against the door, making sure no one could enter. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Remember when I told you were fuckable earlier?” He asked. 

You nodded. 

“Well,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were nothing more than a quickie in a stranger’s closet. I hope it didn’t come off that way and that was the impression you got. This might have gotten a little out of hand. We might have gotten a bit carried away.” He took a step away from the door so you could leave if you wanted to. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you. I had enough fun tonight to last me a lifetime. Just being able to dance with you made my day.” 

You gave him a light shove, pushing him back in front of the door to act as a human lock, taking back control, “I never said anything about leaving.” You took a deep breath, being brave, and trying to advocate for exactly what you wanted from him. “What I said still stands. You can touch me however you want but just with your hands. Okay?” You trailed a finger down his forearm, grazing over his wrist, and locking fingers with him. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you.”  

His smile grew when you repeated his own sentiment back to him. To help build back up the same electric energy from outside, you pressed closer to him and grazed your breasts against his chest, letting him feel how erect your nipples were. He tenderly cupped your cheeks with his large hands and captured your lips with his.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” he mumbled against your lips. His kiss was slower than the other two like he was really savoring the moment. You felt special. Wanted. Beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way he worshiped your lips made you feel like the only woman left in the world. Maybe you were. Maybe nothing existed outside of this closet. All that was left was you and Peter. 

“Mmph,” was all you could manage back. Very articulate. 

And, just like that, you were back under the Parker spell. 

His hands made a slow descent away from your cheeks. They traveled down your neck, pausing for his long fingers to gently wrap around it, making you feel small inside his grasp. They brushed over your shoulders, toying with the thin straps to your dress, inching them to the side until they fell down the slope of your arm. The back of his fingers traced over the swell of your breast, letting the hard nub of your nipple feel every bump as he dragged each of his four fingers slowly over it. He was taking his time, carefully watching your every move and listening for every hitch of your breath. He was treating you like a precious piece of art that was meant to be admired and painstakingly inspected under a magnifying glass so as not to miss any precious details. 

The pooling wetness between your thighs caused your soaked through underwear to cling uncomfortably to you. You wished you could remove them but still felt too nervous to make any moves and distract Peter from his work. You stood still as a statue, lids half closed, as he molded his hand to your breast. Your eyes gazed up at him, helpless under his touch, the sounds of your heavy breaths the only thing you were now able to hear. 

A quiet moan whined in your throat when he pinched your nipple through your dress, capturing it between the knuckles of his middle and pointer finger. He shuddered at the sound, giving a sharp inhale. He wanted to hear it again. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to close the miniscule gap between your hips. He thrust his hips forward, rubbing himself against you, as he molded your breast in his hand.

“Can-” he breathed. “Can I?” 

His fingers slipped into cups of your dress, starting to tug them down to imply what he was asking, and pausing to look to you for confirmation. You gave a silent nod. 

Peter nearly stopped breathing as he tugged the top half of your dress down to reveal your naked breasts. His eyes were alive with flames while he took in the new sights. He tenderly cupped under your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, watching as your flesh melded to his touch. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was begging to capture your nipple between his lips, but he stuck to the “only hands” rule, using his thumb to flick over it instead. 

Your hardly audible moans hit his ear. The sound must have awoken something in him because he responded to it with a whimper of his own. You glanced down to his crotch. His erection was thicker than before. It looked painfully locked up behind the confines of his jeans. You wanted to unleash it, let it be free, but you were too scared to take that leap. 

Peter didn’t seem to care about what his cock was feeling. He was too focused on losing himself in your body. He was more of a giver and a taker, you could tell. His hand still gripping onto your hip started to get more daring. You felt him sliding closer to your core. His fingers traced over the elastic band of your underwear, circling around the tiny, ribbon bow adorning the top. If you had known this was how you would end up tonight, you would have bought something sexier. That concern immediately flew from your thoughts as his fingers slipped between your thighs. His palm rested over your mound while the pads of his finger tips traced along the drenched material. His ragged inhale was all you needed to know to understand how turned on that feeling made him. 

“You’re so wet,” he growled in your ear. 

“Mm,” you croaked out, eyes closed. Words were no longer something your brain had access to. 

You bit your bottom lip the harder he pressed your panties against your slit. The thin cotton material was the only thing holding him back from entering you. 

Peter lifted his other hand to brush under your chin. He lifted your head so you were forced to look up at him. You pried your eyes open, staring at him through heavy lids. Your mouth hung open to accommodate your panting breaths. He locked eyes with you, looking into your soul, as he slipped the wet fabric to the side. 

You gave a silent, wide eyed cry when his finger grazed over your bare slit. Your stomach seized, nearly doubling you over, in excitement. You felt your folds open to his touch. His leg resting between yours nudged your ankle, telling you to spread your legs open a little wider for him. You clutched onto the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of it into your grasp. Without it, you felt like you might collapse. The look of lust etched into his features caused you to nearly orgasm on the spot. Your body was trembling, craving more, nodding your head as if that would make Peter work faster instead of slowly dragging everything out at a crawling pace. 

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “I’m going to make you cum for me.” 

That nearly did it. You whimpered, letting your eyes close again. Peter tugged your underwear down your legs. They stopped at your knees, the width at which you were standing not allowing them to go any further. It was enough. His hand cupped between your thighs, rubbing you, teasing you. You grind your hips, thrusting your clit against his palm. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying how desperate you had become. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he mumbled to himself. 

His long fingers moved gently on you, caressing your wetness, feeling how easily they slid through the slickness you were creating for him. All for him. He continued to simply feel you until you gazed back up at him. He was waiting for your eye contact. Your heart was pounding, waiting for the inevitable, and surrendering yourself over to him. The moment you locked on, he eased his middle finger between your parted lips while his thumb brushed slow circles around your clit. It was the first time a man’s finger had ever touched your sex. You felt the pressure, felt the fear, felt the excitement and the slight searing of pain at how tight you were. You whined as the pain and pleasure mixed to create an intense, swirling storm deep in your sex. Your pussy felt like it was sucking him in, trying to eat him whole, the deeper he sank into you. 

You clung to the front of his shirt, balled up fists, and tears spiking in your eyes. It felt so good. More intense than anything you’d ever felt. You’d touched yourself before but Peter was different. Better. You were sharing the moment, giving up control, and letting someone else learn the intimate details of your body. Your legs were shaking. Your knees felt weak. 

You buried your head into Peter’s neck as he started a steady, slow rhythm of easing his finger half way in and out of you. He focused most of his attention on servicing your throbbing clit. He could tell you were a virgin, he could tell how tight you were squeezing him, and he wanted to go as slow as possible so as not to hurt you. Even a single finger felt like it was filling you up. You were moaning against his neck, whimpering, whining, beginning for more. Your hips worked with each small thrust of his finger, trying to push it deeper. You thrust your clit against his thumb. Your body was taking over as you tumbled towards a climax. 

Peter’s lips were pressed against your ear. He whispered quiet words of encouragement, urging you on, praising you, comforting you. The night was all starting to meld together. The slutty dress, vodka, the obnoxiously loud music, how easily Matt rejected you with nothing more than a few words, finding Peter, dancing together, Britney Spears, the passionate terrace make out, the closet and how sweet Peter had been to quell your obvious fears, the way his finger felt so big inside of you. The entire night was swirling around your thoughts. A tornado building inside your brain. Ready to wipe out anything it touched. 

“That’s it,” Peter whispered over your pathetic whines. “There you go. Cum for me. You’re right there. Let it go. Let it happen.” 

You gave a sharp cry as light exploded in your vision. The tornado tore straight through you, ripping your mind from your body. You were floating in the air. High above everything else. You had no control of the way your body jerked and spasmed, held tightly against Peter’s chest. You’d never experienced an orgasm this powerful. It would have brought you straight to your knees had Peter not been holding you upright. 

He wrapped his arms around you, tracing his fingers over your back and up your neck. He soothed you with a quiet humming until your mind came crashing back down to earth. You were shaking, shivering, eyes glued closed. Peter was your one tether to cling on to. He kept you grounded as you let the tornado fade off into the distance. 

When you finally managed to get your bearings once more, you took a shaky step back from him. He kept his arms outstretched in case he needed to suddenly catch you if you decided to crumble. You shrugged the straps of your dress back up and adjusted the chest so your breasts were back to being concealed. 

Peter had given you a gift you didn’t even know you were looking for. You wanted to repay the favor but you didn’t think your body could handle anything more tonight. Instead, you slipped the underwear still clinging around your knees down to your ankles. You carefully stepped out of them. He watched in a silent curiosity as you closed the gap between you two, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. 

“To give you something to remember me by,” you stood on your tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. A sweet, innocent kiss. 

He looked at you with an awe, loved filled gaze as you pushed open the closet door and stumbled into the hallway. 

When he didn’t follow, you glanced over your shoulder with a sly smirk, “Well? Are you coming?” 

#tasm x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter smut #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker smut #andrew garfield #spiderman #tasm fic #peter parker fic #blooming violets #blooming violets fic #not so innocent

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

Gimme your most stupid ghoul headcanons possible, like Sodo is scared of idk dust particles or something funny.

“silly ghoul headcanons”

Synopsis: It’s in the title you silly goose. Just the ghouls with their silly little shenanigans

Pairing: Nameless ghouls (platonic or romantic) x GN!reader (they/them)

Theme: fluff ✿ , crack ✦

A/N: Heres my first fanfic to my Ghost blog! I gotta thank my bestie for making this request despite the silliness in it. I hope you guys enjoy it because I certainly had fun writing it. I might make a separate version for the ghoulettes cause I love my girlies <33

I also decided to add Aether in this one cuz I love him, remember to respect both him and Phantom as ppl because we don’t support that negativity and hate 🫡

TW: Swiss and Sodo joke about sex but it’s because they’re Swiss and Sodo

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Sodo, oh dear Sodo. He can be such a silly ghoul sometimes

He likes to act like he’s all tough and that he’s hot shit, but some of his habits you can’t help but laugh at

For starters, Sodo is the type of ghoul to be scared of really dumb stuff. Take hamsters for example

Sodo has this really inexplainable fear of hamsters. One day you picked up a cute little hamster from the pet store, and he hissed and erupted in flames the moment you brought it near him

“Sodo its just a hamster—“

“GET THAT THING’S FILTHY PAWS AWAY FROM ME.”

Aether once pranked him by putting a bunch of hamsters in his closet and he let out the most unmanly scream ever, it was funny

Oh and we all know Sodo has a habit of slapping people’s asses

It’s basically his trademark at this point

But there was this one particular time where he tried to slap your ass, but he somehow missed and accidentally slapped Copia’s ass instead

Needless to say, he spent a good while trying to explain to the unamused Papa that he didn’t mean to slap him, but the other pair of cheeks that was in front of him in that moment

He once played Five Nights At Freddy’s and he had nightmares about Freddy for a whole week

No joke, he once thought that Swiss was Freddy because he was so disoriented from a previous nightmare and he socked the poor guy in the nose

You forced him to apologize to Swiss after that

I imagine he’s also the type of ghoul to write stupid little messages and graffiti with a sharpie on his fellow ghouls faces

He once made you help him literally knock out Aether just so he could write “number one cocksucker” in big bold letters on his forehead

Needless to say, you two got chased around by the angry ghoul who was holding a fly swatter for a whole ten minutes

Also we all know damn well this man has a dirty mind

Like have you seen him on stage? Of course he does

He has a habit of slipping in sexual jokes and in innuendos every now and then, because he snickers when seeing people’s reactions

Though there was this one time where he made a comment about your ass and he got slapped across the face

Idk Sodo has a weird obsession with your ass

He has toned down on the jokes, but that doesn’t stop him from slipping up every now and then. And it’s quite obvious he won’t stop with those jokes anytime soon

Rain is such a sweetie and we all know that

But sometimes he can be a little bit of a menace, even to you and his fellow bandmates

To start things off, we all know Rain is a clumsy little guy

Like he’s a walking talking disaster with trails of chaos in his wake. He can hold a glass for someone and drop it like not even ten seconds later

Well there was this one time where you were giving him strumming techniques for the next upcoming ritual

Sodo tapped him on the shoulder from behind to ask him for something. When Rain turned around he accidentally slapped Sodo in the face with the neck of his bass guitar

Sodo then stumbled back in pain and literally destroyed Mountain’s drum set. You were just standing there processing what just happened, and Copia just looked… disappointed.

Rain also collects a lot of plushies

He has a literal pile of squishmallows in the corner of his room. Sometimes he likes to bury himself in that little nook of his room.

He made a little pillow fort in that area for him to snuggle in. Sometimes he’ll invite you to come and watch movies with him in there

However he once impulsively bought so many plushies so they were all flooding his room. You opened the door to his room and they all came flooding out, with a very euphoric Rain on top of them

“…. Rain what are you doing?”

“Feeling great. Thank you, Y/N.”

You helped him organize all of those little plushies in his room afterwards, even giving some of them to Phantom (who was new at the time) as a little “welcome home” gift

As a water ghoul, Rain naturally enjoys water

However he has this really cute habit of splashing around in pools/tubs like he’s a bird in a birdbath, but he gets embarrassed about this fact because the ghouls tease him for it

You once caught him playing around in the a storm in such a manner, it was so cute seeing him so happy and enjoying himself

The minute he spotted you, he immediately got all embarrassed and shy, but you reassured him it was all good and that it was fine to be excited about water

Needless to say, he’s a lot more comfortable showing off that side to you now

Oh Mountain. Sweet sweet darling Mountain

Like Rain, Mountain is a sweetie. However he tends to have his silly moments.

I’d like to imagine that Mountain often bumps his head on doorframes or walks

The fucker is really tall, I mean it’s hard to not hit something along the way.

So he has a habit of sticking his hand over his forehead to avoid bumping into anything, the poor guy

I’d also like to imagine that Mountain had that light skin stare

Like he doesn’t even mean to look creepy. He just… has a habit of zoning out, so therefore he looks like he’s staring into your soul

Though this does make him really good at staring contests. One time Swiss challenged him, and they lasted for ten minutes

Swiss needed eye drops after that

Also he deadass looks like a sleep paralysis demon when he stands

One night you couldn’t sleep so you went to the kitchen to get something to eat. Mountain happened to hear the noise your footsteps were making, so he went to check up on you

He was just standing in the doorframe… staring at you, making sure you were okay while you grabbed something from the fridge

Needless to say, when you turned around, you dropped Swiss’s leftover cheesecake you were gonna eat upon seeing the tall earth ghoul in the doorframe

Also your scream was loud as FUCK

“MOUNTAIN WHAT IN HELL— YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK! Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“… I don’t know. At least you’re okay.”

He apologized to you afterwards and promised to not accidentally spook you. Because for a moment you swore you saw the hat man

Mountain also rarely gets mad, the dude is as passive as a sheep

But the moment he gets angry… hide your children

The dude is scary as hell. Like, he’s even got Papa on his knees begging for mercy

There was one particular day during practices where Sodo and Aether were arguing a little too much. It’s normal for them to banter, but this particular day was getting out of hand

Everyone was already getting upset with them, even with Papa telling the two ghouls you knock it off, but of course they wouldn’t

Well, they didn’t until a drum from Mountain’s drum set came hurling towards both ghouls. Making the fire ghoul and quintessence ghoul yelp and duck instinctively

No one had noticed the fuming earth ghoul sitting in the corner up until that point. Everyone was speechless. Your jaw was on the floor even

Needless to say, Mountain apologized yet again, but now everyone knew not to fuck with Mountain after that

Swiss is an… interesting specimen.

For starters he was accidentally summoned,

He was summoned at the same time as Aether. And they bonked heads upon getting summoned

It was rather funny seeing Papa being so confused as to why the ritual spell summoned two ghouls, and seeing said two ghouls yell at each other for bonking heads

But it all worked out because after Swiss showed off that he can literally do fucking anything, Papa just let him stay

And Swiss was the perfect flare of spice to add to Ghost, and he’s a sweet ghoul to be around

But that doesn’t stop him from being a literal menace to society

Swiss has a really strange habit of breaking into people’s rooms and just jumping on their beds to wake them up

All while he’s obnoxiously telling them to get up, much to the other’s annoyance

You once threw him across the room for waking you up, and Swiss was just laughing so hard on the floor when he saw your reaction

Since he’s quite literally known as the Swiss Army Ghoul, he’s good at almost everything.

Including cooking. He likes to cook a lot of meals for the people living in the ministry

Bro even has a stereotypical pink “kiss the cook” apron, he got it as a birthday gift from you

But the “cook” part is crossed out with a red sharpie and instead Swiss replaced with “dick”

Why? Because it’s fucking Swiss.

He also made it a point to bake everyone’s birthday cakes, but he’ll slip in something stupid to be funny

One time Cirrus was cutting her birthday cake and she got a whole ass doll head in there, which left her very confused

Swiss isn’t allowed to make people’s birthday cakes anymore because of that

Also sometimes Swiss will get high out of nowhere

No one knows what the fuck he’s doing because this ghoul is all over the place, but when he’s high he says the most out of pocket stuff

There was this one time he messaged the ghoul group chat while taking an edible saying “this edible is weak as shit.”

But then right after that message, he attached a picture of you and sent it with the caption “I’ve always wanted to fuck them.”

You could hear Sodo’s laughter from his room after that.

And when Swiss got sobered up, you asked him about the message, but bro literally refuses to acknowledge he sent it

“Swiss did you send that message from earlier—“

“No.”

“Then who did?”

“The hat man.”

“THE WHAT MAN?!”

“Oh so this suddenly isn’t a safe space?”

Ah Aether. We all love Aether. I mean who doesn’t?

We all know how much of a little psycho Aether can be, but he’s a lovable psycho that just exerts a lot of fun energy

That doesn’t stop him from being a little fucker however

He likes to pull a lot of pranks with Swiss, Sodo unfortunately being his main target

So there was this one time he asked you to help him prank the poor fire ghoul, and you said yes because you felt like messing with Sodo

(And also partly because you were kinda pissed with him due to the fact that he ate your leftovers)

So the prank was to put a bunch of sticky notes in Sodo’s room that all read “big cock energy” (because of course it did)

However during the process of putting the sticky notes in the room, Sodo walked in on two idiotic fools, those fools being you and Aether of course

And it’s safe to say that for a solid twenty minutes, the two of you were running around the ministry with an angry flaming fire ghoul hot on your trail, giggling like little children

(Sodo spared you, but Aether wasn’t so lucky)

“SODO PLEASE SPARE ME— WHY SPARE Y/N?!?!!”

“Because I hate them less than you, NOW C’MERE—“

Aether once fell asleep with a rotten ass banana peel

Like no joke— you once walked in his room to ask for something and his whole room STANK of rancid and rotten banana

And Aether was just sitting there, confused as to why you looked like you were about to throw up on his bedroom floor

Rain had to fucking disinfect the room (with a gas mask because it smelled that bad)

Oh and you Rain breaks things? Aether is so much worse

He once tried to clean up Swiss’s mic stand for an upcoming tour and the damn thing just- fell apart

Swiss was more bewildered than upset, because how in hell does that happen?

You literally do not let him touch your equipment because he’s gonna somehow find a way to break it all

When Aether departed from Ghost you were very sad

But then he messaged the group chat with this message “I’ll miss all of you fuckers. Be nice to the new ghoul, love all of you <33 (except for you Sodo, fuck you)”

Sodo then bursted out of his room tackling Aether, but it was more so out of love rather than being an ass

Needless to say, you all still keep in touch with Aether

Phantom!!! We all love Phantom here

Since he was newer and the one of the more recently summoned ghouls, he had a hard time fitting in

But you and the other ghouls thankfully made him feel welcome, even if it took a little more time for some other ghouls to get used to him

And because of that, it didn’t take long for Phantom to start joking in the ghoul chaos

He is literally a walking meme

Phantom is the type of guy to quote old vines and also keep up with any meme trends

Part of being the youngest ghoul I guess

He often confuses Papa with his little antics (because he’s an old man), and you’re just silently laughing at Papa’s reactions to Phantom

Also Phantom has a habit of holding things weirdly

You thought it was just his guitar? Bestie no, the dude is holding things the wrong way all the time but still somehow makes it work

Like— he holds onto a pen like it’s about to grow a pair of legs and run out of his hand, but he still somehow has the most beautiful cursive handwriting there is

“…. Phantom— what are you doing? You’re holding that pen like it’s a—“

“Hush, Y/N. I’m writing everything I want for Christmas this year.”

Phantom can also be a bit of a nerd sometimes

Like— you know those kids in school that are so dorky and have that awkward teenager energy? But you can’t be annoyed at them because they’re so cute? Yeah, that’s Phantom

Man’s will ramble about the most nerdy thing so passionately that you can’t help but listen, it’s cute seeing him get all excited over… legos or something

Oh and if someone dares to insult his passion he will spread legos all over their room

(Poor Swiss was a victim of that unfortunately)

Oh yeah he almost once accidentally vacuumed Copia’s pet rat

The dude was just trying to clean up his room, and one of the little fuckers scurried in his room, and the rat’s tail got stuck in the vacuum

Phantom’s high pitched scream upon realization was enough to have you bolting in the room to check in on the poor ghoul

And you were met with the sight of Phantom desperately trying to pull out a screaming rat from the vacuum while the ghoul was on the verge of tears because he didn’t want to get scolded

You ended up helping him because no one wants to see Phantom sad

And it’s safe to say Copia now has one pet rat with no tail.

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#aether ghoul #ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #mountain ghoul #nameless ghoul x reader #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #sodo ghoul #swiss ghoul #sodo x reader #rain x reader #mountain x reader #nameless ghoul headcanons #headcanons #fluff #crack fic #fluff fic #swiss x reader #aether x reader #phantom x reader #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x reader #ghost bc fanfic

[toniiswrld]

mx ☆ p.wb - 01

park wonbin x fem reader

you bump into a hot guy at a band concert, but what happens when you realize the hot guy is a member of the band?

🎸 cw. foul language

despite it being a small venue, it was packed. you were shoulder to shoulder with people as you made your way through the crowd, holding your breath as you tried not to inhale the must of peoples sweaty bodies. you see the bar, looking up and squinting slightly at the very limited drink menu. you settle on a white claw, you don't want to be too intoxicated, places like these have all your senses heightened and you just want to relax a bit.

you’re not a big fan of general admission concerts, they’re too pushy and you hate having to stand outside for hours to get remotely close to the stage. not that you care too much about the view for this concert, you’re not too familiar with the band playing but your friend had convinced you to come since its a band she’s recently got into, and they’re still considered “underground”. she played you a few songs before and they were good,

as you turn back around to go back to where your friend is, you underestimate the amount of space you really have and bump into someone, the liquid in your can threatening to spill as you try to balance yourself

“easy there, princess” you almost didn’t hear the voice of the person you bumped into, his voice mixed in with everyone around you along with whatever song the speakers were blasting. you look up to see the face that voice belongs to, and you have to stop yourself from dropping your jaw. damn, he was handsome. tall, blond curly hair, abs peeking out from his cropped t shirt, that face, what a gorgeous face.

“princess…?” your voice lingers in confusion, processing the pet name this complete stranger just called you.

he laughs, his eyes narrow as he eyes you. they go from your face to your shirt quickly, not wanting to stare too long where he would look like a creep.

“your shirt, it says princess?” he says it like its a question but you finally remember that you had worn a cute tee with the word princess in big pink letters.

“oh, i guess you’re right,”

“i guess so,” his voice lingers, he eyes you again and he feels drawn to you, like he doesn’t want the conversation to end. “you a fan of the band?”

“i like a few songs, my friend is a big fan though. she told me to come tonight.” he nods, understanding that you weren’t a fan. for now, at least. “what about you?” you look up to him, taking a sip of your white claw while you wait for his response.

“i’d say i’m a pretty big fan, you’ll enjoy the show, trust me. especially the guy on bass, he’s really good”

“i’ll keep that in mind,” a grin falls on your lips, keeping the conversation light and flirty before realizing you might have been gone a bit too long.

“i should probably go back to my friend before she gets worried, we stood outside for 3 hours to get barricade” you shift your weight to one of your feet while you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time.

7:30. show starts at 8.

“no worries, princess. my name’s wonbin by the way. hopefully i see you around here again” and with that you were sucked into the crowd once more, wonbin nowhere to be seen as you push through people to get back to your friend.

“girl where the fuck have you been?” karina shouts once you’re close enough for her to see, it was even louder by the stage, you have to lean into her so you can talk directly into her ear.

“well i went to get a drink, and i bumped into a guy. a really fucking hot guy”

“did you get his number?”

“no, but he said he hopes he’ll see me around. said his name was wonbin”

she punches your shoulder. hard.

“wonbin? park wonbin?”

“i dont fucking know his last name! but yes wonbin, he was about this tall,” you gesture to a height you felt best represented the male you talked to minutes ago, wanting to give karina the best description you could. “and he was blond, long hair. really hot”

“you’re fucking lying,” she punches you again in the same spot, the already growing bruise makes it hurt even more.

“okay stop hitting me, and what are you talking about? do you know him?”

“girl, you talked to park wonbin… he’s literally part of the band.

your eyes went wide.

“no way, no fucking way. you’re full of shit” it’s your turn to punch her arm now, not believing her at all. there’s no way you just bumped into a flirted with a member of the band. why would he even be in the crowd if he had to get on stage soon?

“are you sure he said his name was wonbin?”

“yeah, but plenty of guys are named wonbin. i think you’re over exaggerating” she shrugs, believing that you had talked to one of the band members and had no idea.

it's just a coincidence that his name was wonbin and fit the description perfectly, right? its not a big deal anyway, it was just some harmless flirting. plus he’s in a band, and guys in bands flirt with everyone!

but none of that matters because the wonbin you spoke to was not the one in a yband.

you were wrong. you were so, so wrong.

it was him. the hot guy you spoke to at the bar was on stage right now, playing bass and singing to the crowd, grabbing the attention of hundreds of people.

you could barely focus on the music, you were so focused on wonbin. your eyes fleeted to the other members, you don’t know anyone else’s name but they were all breathtakingly beautiful. you’re not surprised though, if wonbin was that hot it would make sense the rest of the band would be.

you think back to what he said, when he subtly shouted himself out by hyping up the bass player. of course he wanted you to keep your eyes on him the whole concert.

and you did. you couldn’t take your eyes off him. he was so mesmerizing on stage, the way his hair shined with the stage light, the way you were conveniently on the side of the stage where he was, it was easy for you to keep your focus on him the entire time.

once the concert was over and the noise was dying down, you and karina were turning to join the line of people leaving the venue. you were in a trance, you can't get the image of wonbin out of your head. karina really was a big fan of the band, you somehow underestimated her interest until now, with the way she’s already talking your ear off about what happened moments ago before she asked you what you thought about the show.

“it was him, rina” you sigh, not sure if you should be excited or not.

“i knew it!”

“but now i don’t have a chance!!” you whine, the excitement of tonights events slipping through your fingers.

“if he flirted back with you, then you probably have a chance. just don’t become a groupie y/n,” she nudges your shoulder, and you know she’s serious but there’s still a tinge of humor in her tone.

“no promises, the rest of them were hot as fuck too so who knows” you wink, and you two giggle as you walk back to your car.

you don't know how, but you were going to get him to yourself. if you caught his attention tonight, how hard could it be to get it again?

masterlist | next

a/n: first chapter!! hope you guys like it, kept it a little short just to get a feel of the direction i want to take the next chapter 🤭

taglist: @starwonb1n @drinktzu @kyusqult @helovalley @miyawakiblossoms @murariki @nishimuraii @luvyujun @blooqz @bunni @b-riize

send in an ask or reply to the masterlist post to be added to the taglist!!

#toniiswrld #riize x reader #riize wonbin #wonbin riize #wonbin x reader #wonbin scenarios #wonbin imagines #riize imagines #riize scenarios #wonbin smut #wonbin x reader smut #wonbin x you #riize smut #riize x reader smut #riize x you

[withwritersblock]

Lover Boy-The Introduction

~Lover Boy by Phum Viphurit~

Author's Note: this series was requested and I'm so hyped to write it, I think it could be super cute. This is a series of one shots :) Summary: Y/N's roommate abandons her at a party and her brother and his teammates take her home Warnings: mentions of alcohol, party scene Word Count: 1,284 Luke Hughes x Edwards sister!reader

She was standing with her newly found best friend of three weeks, inside a crowded sweaty frat party. The music was loud, it was hard to breathe and the only way to communicate was through shouting into each other’s ears. Nessa stood beside her, scanning the party for potential targets to help Y/N find a boyfriend.

Nessa had been in a relationship since she was a sophomore in high school. It was the fraternity her boyfriend was rushing, so of course she was invited. Which meant Y/N was invited. Nessa was Y/N’s random roommate assignment, as it turned out; they were perfect for each other. 

They’ve been inseparable, as if they have been friends since forever. But here they were alone, getting bumped into every three seconds when Y/N’s eyes landed on her twin brother Ethan. “What the hell?” she muttered as she watched him dance alongside his teammate. Or someone she thought was his teammate, she was a little drunk and a little dizzy.

“He’s cute!” Nessa shouted, grabbing Y/N’s shoulder and forcing her gaze towards the blonde boy in the back of the party. Purposely brooding in the corner, alone. “Let’s play, have you met Y/N!” Nessa shouted. Y/N yanked Nessa back towards her.

“We are not going to play Have you met Ted!”

“We’re not playing Have you met Ted, we are playing Have you met Y/N!” she giggled, dragging her through the crowd.

“I’m so mad I showed you that show!” Y/N shouted as she was being dragged, muttering apologies to the people she was slammed into.

She stopped as she was slammed into a very familiar frame, her twin brother. “What the hell are you doing here?!” he shouted, staring towards her. Nessa spun around to see Ethan standing beside Y/N. Nessa’s eyes widened as she continued walking through the party in search of her boyfriend. Y/N glanced towards where she thought Nessa was to find that she was now alone with her brother standing in front of her. 

“Since when do you go to parties?” he shouted, shaking his head. 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Since I started college?” she shouted as she glanced towards the two guys beside Ethan, whispering towards one another. 

She recognized them and Matty Beniers and Luke Hughes. Two of Ethan’s favorite teammates.

He clenched his jaw as he rolled his eyes, “That’s your last drink, alright?!” he shouted towards her, staring deeply into her eyes. She nodded reluctantly as himself and the other two boys walked away from her. 

After a few minutes of wandering the party on her own, she found Nessa and her boyfriend Derek making out in the corner of the party. They were getting cheered by a bunch of his potential fraternity brothers. Y/N felt sick to her stomach as she decided to leave. 

She called Ethan, reluctantly. He answered the phone but it was too loud to hear him. So, she texted him asking him to walk her back to their dorm building. He quickly replied, telling her to meet him outside of the house. She continued to shove her way through the house, begging to breathe fresh air, instead of other people’s sweat. 

She stepped outside, her ears ringing. Her feet felt like she was levitating as she no longer could feel the bass. Her eyes landed on Ethan and the same two boys from earlier waiting outside. 

“Are you alright?” Ethan asked, he scanned her frame. He hated seeing his sister dressed the way she was. It was definitely Nessa’s wardrobe because he’s never seen her sister wear clothes like that.

“Yeah, just Nessa found Derek and I realized I wanted to go home,” she mumbled as she looked towards the two taller boys standing behind Ethan. He continued to scan her features, knowing her true feelings despite her words. 

Ethan and Y/N have always been close, not because they were twins, but because they enjoyed each other’s company and cared a lot about one another. 

Ethan rested his hand on the center of her back as he guided her towards the two guys. “Y/N, Matty and Luke,” he motioned towards each of the boys, “My teammates,” he mumbled, smiling polietly. 

“I’m sorry for dragging you guys from the party,” she let out, smiling sadly. 

“It was boring anyway,” Matty mumbled. 

“It was definitely not like the movies,” she mumbled.

The boys simply nodded with a wide smile on their faces. They were scanning her frame. Admiring the way her body took the clothes she was in. It was obvious she was stunning, it was obvious she was hot. 

She began walking ahead of them, guiding them where her dorm was. It was around a half a mile walk back towards campus. Ethan stood in the middle of the taller pair. The three of them began walking, Ethan could tell the way the two boys were watching his sister.

He smacked his hands against their chest, grunts leaving their throats, “Don’t even fucking think about it,” Ethan muttered as he continued walking behind his sister. 

Luke fought the smirk on his lips as he forced his gaze to the concrete below his feet. Matty simply rolled his eyes, practically saying as if! 

All three of them lived in the same dorm building, so it ended up working out. It was a quiet walk back, nothing much to say. Y/N started stumbling a bit, as her last drink was finally catching up to her. 

“Are you sure you can get to your room by yourself, want me to walk you?” Ethan asked as they were waiting for the elevator. Y/N nodded as she clenched her jaw. Ethan’s eyes widened as he smacked his hand against Luke’s arm, “You live on the same floor, can you walk her to her room?” Ethan stared into Luke’s eyes pleading with desperation. Luke nodded slowly as he looked back towards Y/N. 

They all stepped into the elevator, Matty was the first to get off on the third floor. Ethan got off on the fifth. It was soon just Y/N and Luke. “I’m fine, you don’t actually have to walk me to my room,” she said, leaning towards him slightly. 

Luke chuckled, adjusting the hat on his head as he met her gaze. His body froze for a second as he stared into her eyes. She smiled softly as she looked into his blue eyes. “I think your brother will actually kill me if I didn’t,” he said as the elevator doors opened. 

She stepped out first, spinning around to meet Luke’s gaze once more before she began guiding him towards her room. “Thank you,” she mumbled as they continued down the hallway.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, shrugging. She smiled as she stopped in front of her door. The name tags on the door that her RA had put up. She leaned against the door as she stared into Luke’s eyes for a much longer time than she should have. Something about the way he squinted his eyes and the way he was looking at her was intoxicating. 

“I’m gonna-” she mumbled, pressing her lips together. He nodded as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He took a step backwards.

“I’ll see you around?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he began walking towards the other side of the floor. She nodded as she spun around to unlock her door. She shoved the door open and quickly stepped inside. Letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as the cold air washed over her body.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #hockey #nhl fic #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #nj devils #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils x reader #umich imagine #umich hockey #ethan edwards #ethan edwards imagine

[seospicybin]

THAT SONG.

PART I

Han x reader. (s,f,a)

A chapter of On Tour.

Synopsis: Han forms a rock band with a help from you, his muse who is so cynical of love. (17,4k words)

Author's note: This is for my On Tour enthusiasts. Hope you like it x

Click here for That Song playlist.

It starts to annoy him how the vocalist keep messing up the chords. Instead of focus on playing his guitar and sing the lyrics right, he's busy making eyes with the girls standing in the front.

Han recognized one of them is you, he knows you because he shares a class with you and your writing recently won the university literary contest. But why would a beautiful and smart girl like you making the eyes with such a lousy, ego bigger than his actual skill guy?

Sure, the vocalist has the looks but he wouldn't look that good if he's playing the music himself. He missed the chords and been singing off key on the last two songs, no one noticed but Han.

Han doesn't even know why he agreed to help to fill the bass tonight but at least he'll get free beers tonight as an exchange. He's ordering his second bottle even though his first one is halfway finished. He turns to the side and finds you making your way toward him.

Han knows that it's good to be true if you're coming for him but he turns to the other side finding the incompetent vocalist gesturing you to come up to him. It's so rare for him to intervene with someone's business but Han really needs to stop you from making the wrong choices.

Next thing he knows, he outstretched his hand to stop you from going to the lousy guy, "Wait a minute!"

Your forehead wrinkles in confusion and he completely understands why.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he says with a thin smile and quick comes up with an explanation, "it's obvious that he likes to sleep with a lot of girls and you're probably going to wake up with a terrible rash."

You tilt your head and thinly smile at him, "Thanks for the tip."

Han quietly let out a breath of relief, "well, you're a nice girl. You don't want to be with that kind of guy."

You purse your lips then takes a sip, "that's where you're wrong. I'm not a nice girl."

You take a another sip of beer before talking again, "and you're cockblocking your friend right now," you tell him, pointing to the talentless vocalist at the end of the bar counter.

"Friend?" Han asks, offended that you think he's friends with that rockstar wannabe.

"He's not my friend. He's a dick actually and I'm just filling for my friend," he shortly explains and now that he gets rid of Bon Jovi look alike, he can smile again.

You snicker and put your bottled beer down, "You're cute," you tell him.

That gets him flustered, no girl ever told him cute before.

"But you reek of romance and good intentions," you continue.

That gets him baffled because isn't that what girls are looking for?

"As opposed to what..." he leers over to the lousy vocalist.

"He's handsome and emotionally unavailable," you fill his blanks and start walking away from him.

Han can't believe he's lost to the lousy vocalist. As his final effort, he grabs you by your elbow to stop you from going.

"Look, I'm not looking for a nice guy. I don't do boyfriends, I don't date," you bluntly tell him.

"All I hear is don't, don't and... don't," he says in a baffling tone.

"Don't waste my time," you sharply add.

Han is aware that he's overstepping and slowly lets go of you, you're an adult anyway, you can do whatever you want and that includes doing things he doesn't want you to do.

"See you in class then," he says as he returns to his beer.

You turn around on your feet, "we share a class?"

"Creative writing," he replies without looking at you.

"What's your name again?" You ask, even though you haven't asked before.

He looks at you and answers, "Han."

You take that information with a nod then clink your bottle with him, "see you in class, Han!"

Then off you go, doing the things he doesn't want you to do and making it clear to him that a guy like him doesn't stand a chance with a girl like you. - It's inevitable seeing you in campus, especially in the class you share together.

Since you knew his name, you'd wave your hand at the sight of him but it's probably some sort of joke to you to remind him how he flirted with you that night and you rejected him right away.

Han is relentless to change your mind because it annoys him so much that you would rather flirt with someone who doesn't even have an ounce of your worth.

A few weeks later at the same bar, he approaches you after he sees you send a guy away from disagreeing with you on an argument.

"Guess you scare him off," he comments as he takes the seat of the expelled guy.

You scoff in disbelief at him then sips your beer.

"Do you want to get out of here?" He offers, shamelessly taking another shot with you.

You laugh and wipe your upper lip with your thumb, "Didn't I made it pretty clear that I have no interests on going out with you?"

Han calmly looks at you and smiles, "you and I are going to be friends," he casually remarks.

"But I don't want to be friends with you," you shortly reply, not hesitating to reject him again.

Well, Han can only take two rejection in a span of two months, he'll try again a few weeks... or maybe this is a sign for him to give up and raise the white flag. He brings his beer with him and finds somewhere else where he can quietly drinks his beer. He stops caring about your presence the more intoxicated he gets.

To his short luck, Han gets lightheaded and since he's coming to the bar alone with no friend who can assist him home, he stops drinking. He exits the bar and realizes how late it is from how crowded that he has to go through sea of people to find the door.

To sober up a little, he stands outside with the brick wall supporting him, his head is clouded with smoke coming from a group of people smoking next to him. He pulls out his phone to order a taxi when he hears your voice. His head snaps to the door of bar and sees you drunkenly walking to the side of the road, hailing your hand for a taxi.

He's about to help you getting one when a man gets to you first, holding you from behind and opens the taxi door for you.

"I want to go home," you slur your words at him.

He forces you to get inside the taxi, "we're going home, baby."

You refuse to get in and jump out of the taxi, "not with you," you tell him.

"My apartment is close so you're coming with me," he insists, pushing you back into the backseat of the taxi.

You push him away when he's about to get in after you, "No, I don't want to go home with you!"

It starts to cause a scene outside the bar and it doesn't take a genius to know that this guy is going to take advantage of you.

Han shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and comes to take you away from him.

"She said she doesn't want to go with you," Han tells him right at his face, holding you steady with his hands on your shoulders.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man curses at him.

"I'm her friend!" He shortly replies despite he knows he got rejected to be your friend a few hours ago.

The man grabs you back from him and forces you to enter the taxi, "stay the fuck out of my business!"

Han shoves him back and he pulls you along with him as he's staggering to the back, sending you stumbling down the pavement.

"Ouch!" You wince in pain.

Han hurriedly helps you getting up and helps you get into the taxi.

"Stay away from you, you fucking prick!" Han warns him before getting into the taxi.

You whine in pain next to him, holding your scraped knee with your hand and lolling your head to the side, eventually resting your head on his shoulder.

"Where do you live?" Han asks, feeling bad if he has to grope you around to find for your ID or phone.

"I don't want to go home," you mumble to him.

You nuzzle your head into his neck and mumble again, "let come home with you."

Han has no other option but to take you to his messy apartment. Thankfully, you're too intoxicated to notice the piling dirty laundry or the pizza box he hasn't thrown out since last night. You run to the bathroom the second he unlocked the door and he uses the opportunity to tidy up his place, or more like, hiding the mess out of the plain sight.

He quickly grabs a clean towel from the dryer then knock on the bathroom door to give it to you. He hears the flushing sound then you open the door not long after.

"A clean towel," he offers.

You take it from him through the crack of the door and follow him outside.

"Can I borrow your clothes?" You suddenly ask.

It's like you speak a different language that he takes a moment for him to process such simple words, "my clothes?"

You meekly show him your clothes damp with drops of water, "I can't sleep in this."

"Clothes," he says with a blank expression and it takes him another moment to finally get to his closet, finding any proper clothes for you to wear.

He picks the most decent piece of clothing he has and he remembers his parents gifted him a pajama set, it's the perfect time to put it to use.

"Here," he accidentally startles you as you scan his records collection.

You take the folded clothes from him and not hesitate to take your clothes off on the spot. Han immediately turns his back at you to give you privacy even though he can clearly see you changing clothes from the reflection of the TV screen.

"Can I have a glass of water?" You ask.

"Sure," he dashes to the kitchenette and pours a glass of water which reminds him to grab the first-aid kit from the drawer.

"Thank you," you mutter as you take the glass of water from him.

"Can you please sit down?" He kindly asks.

The options are the bed or the worn-out couch filled with his books. You walk over to the bed and sits at the end of it. He squats down on the floor and looks up at you, "Do you mind if I take a look at your knee?"

You shake your head while holding the glass of water with both hands on your lap. He rolls up the obviously a size too big pajama pants and takes a closer look at your scraped knee. It doesn't look bad once he cleaned.

It's probably the alcohol that hasn't fully left your systems yet that makes you numb to the stings of alcohol pads make contact with your wounded knee. Next, Han dabs antibiotic ointment on the wound with a cotton bud and apply a bandage to finish.

"Thank you," you mutter again.

Wow! It's the first time he heard so many thank you in one night and it's coming from the person he didn't expect to hear it from.

"You can rest now," he says, gesturing you to sleep on the bed.

"And where are you going to sleep?" You ask.

"I can sleep..." his eyes drift to the messy couch and silently sigh, "I can sleep anywhere."

"Please, share the bed with me," you plead with eyes that shine for him as he stands towering you.

"Okay," he agrees but he promised himself to leave the bed once you're asleep.

The night is getting late and he can't lie that he needs to lie down after an eventful night. He is late to claim his side of the bed as you already lie there, getting yourself under the cover.

"What are you listening to?" You ask, looking at the record player on the bedside table.

Han puts it there because he likes to lay on the bed and stares at the ceiling while listening to music. Unfortunately, he happens to forget what record he was playing the last time. He peers over to your side of the bed, one glance at the record and he knows what it is.

"Uhm... Sonic Youth," he answers.

You turn the record player on and slowly put the needle on it, music starts to fill the space with riffs of one of his favorite songs.

"Spinning dreams with angel wings. Torn blue jeans and a foolish grin," Kim Gordon opens the song with her sleepy, crooning voice.

You get comfortable on the bed and turn to the side, seeing him still standing at the side of the bed.

"Come, lay down with me," you say, patting the space next to you.

It's so stupid of him that he forgot to take off his jacket, he gets ride of it before climbing onto the bed and awkwardly slouches down the bed.

He knows you're looking at him as Kim Gordon repeatedly singing, "Star power, star power, star power..."

You take a deep breathe and put a hand under your head, "Maybe I really should stop dating handsome, emotionally unavailable men," you draw conclusions out of nowhere.

Han only nods in agreement even though he can't focus knowing that he's under the same cover with you.

"Maybe we should go on a date," you come with another shocking statement.

This time, he doesn't nod even though he wanted to.

You softly sigh again and gets up from the bed to lean close to his side, "I think you'll be good to me."

He dares himself to look at you and catches you softly smiling at him. Your eyes locked in a gaze that feels more intimate than a kiss.

You slightly tilt your head to the side then press a gentle kiss on his cheek, "Goodnight!"

You settle back on the bed and close your eyes with a smile that slowly fades from your face as you slowly drift to sleep.

Han reaches for his heating cheek and touches the searing kiss you left on it, foolishly holding the back of his hand to it like it would help him reeling from the kiss. However, he can replay the moment in his head and close his eyes to make it vivid.

The song that is still playing becomes distant but he can faintly hears Kim Gordon softly sings, "Close my eyes and think of you. Everything turns black to blue." - It's like someone has just pulled him out of the water, Han wakes up from his sleep gasping for air. He expects to see it's still night and you're still on the bed sleeping next to him. Panic, he gets up at once and looks around his studio apartment with sunlight filling and brightens the place.

"Morning," you greet from the couch with a bowl on one hand.

The mess of your hair looking like a halo on the top of your head and you warmly smile as your eyes locked in a gaze with him, emitting the same warmth of the morning sun at him.

"I hope you don't mind I'm eating your cereal," you say.

Disoriented, he scratches the back of his head and unsure what to do first because he's usually will fall back to sleep, especially when he has no morning class like today.

"I–I'll just..." he barely finishes his sentence and breaks into a run to the bathroom.

Last night, he made a plan to impress you. He planned on getting up early so he can buy some nice breakfast to eat together with you. He plans on having some fresh baked goods and hot coffee with you, not his cereal and milk from his empty fridge.

"Oh, why did I fall asleep?" He asks himself and reaches for his toothbrush to, at least, make himself look presentable in front of you.

He changes into a clean t-shirt he picked up from the washing machine and walks to the kitchenette, "Coffee?" He feels stupid for asking when he can clearly you have put the coffee pot on.

"Yes, please?" You sweetly answer to him.

He fills two mugs with steaming hot coffee and brings them to the couch, he wince seeing the cluttering mess on his table that he has to put some stuff to the side to make room for the mugs of coffee.

You're busy chewing on your cereal to notice it and he peers over to see you're reading his notebook.

"Oh—" he stops himself from snatching it away from you.

You notice that he's looking at it and quickly flip shut, then put it one the top of stack, "I'm sorry but it's laying around on the table so... I didn't mean to read your journal," you apologize.

He bites his lower lip, not expecting you to read his journal filled with his writings in there. It's worse than letting you walk around his messy apartment but he can't blame you when he should have kept it somewhere safe.

"I'm sorry," you apologize again.

"It's okay," he says with a smile to convince you that it's okay for you to read the song lyrics he wrote about personal things.

"How come you never submitted your works for the literary contest?"

Han lifts his mug and watches the curls of steam from his coffee, "I don't I can compete with you."

You put your legs up and hug them in front of you, "but your writing is beautiful."

"They're not... they're lyrics," he says.

"Oh?" You lowly gasp, "so you write songs?"

"Kind of," he answers and carefully sips his coffee.

"Have you performed any of these songs?"

Han shakes his head to strongly deny, "I like writing them but not performing them."

"Why not?"

"Because I..." his word trails off once he realizes that you're getting too personal with him but it's too late to stop now.

"I don't think they're good," he concludes.

You take your mug of coffee and hold it with both hands, "Well, I never thought any of my writings are good," you share.

"But they are good," Han points out the obvious since your writings always won the literary contest for two years in a row.

"So you read them," you say with a satisfied smile.

Again, he's too late to back out now, "who doesn't?"

You take a small sip of your coffee then ask, "What do you think?"

His mug stops midair as he's about to sip his coffee, "they're good, great..."

The sound of the phone ringing from somewhere across the room interrupts the talk, after a few seconds you recognize that it's yours and it's ringing inside your purse.

"I'm sorry," you excuse yourself to get it.

Han silently drinks his coffee and catches glimpes of your conversation on the phone, it's safe to say that you need to go after hanging up the call.

"Sorry, but I have to go," you say just as he expected.

Han tidies up the place as much as he can while you're changing your clothes in the bathroom, your phone rings again as he puts records piling on his bedside table back to the shelf. He didn't mean to look but your phone is right there, lying on the bed and he can see the caller.

Alex, it's a very masculine sounded name. He doesn't want to assume anything and stops thinking about it as he hears the bathroom door swings open.

"Thank you for letting me crashing in your place," you return the clothes your borrowed from him.

"No problem at all," he sheepishly says.

You check your phone and shove it inside your purse after, "Thank you for this as well," you show him your bandaged knee at him.

"It's nothing really," he says.

It's been a long time that Han has someone over his place, especially of the opposite sex. He's been out of the dating pool for much longer than that, he doesn't know the code anymore, what he should do next?

He decides to keep himself busy as you collect your things from around the room. Han is putting the dirty dishes on the sink when you speak to him from the foyer.

"I'm free this Friday."

He turns around to see you standing with one hand against the wall and the other is strapping your shoes in place, "huh?"

"I'm free this Friday," you repeated.

He's not deaf but what he doesn't get is the meaning of those words. Does it mean you want him to take you on a date? Or you set the date for both of you? Or you want to casually hang out with him? Or you need his help again at the bar?

In other words, he's stupid when it comes to social cues.

"You want me to... uh—"

"Friday at eight?" You say.

Oh, okay, that means you want to go on a date. He stifles a nod, "sure, yeah."

"Okay," you smile seeing him being awkward.

Han may have wanted to take you on a date but you're so smart, so composed, so confident, you're everything he's not and it's impossible for him not to feel the slightest bit intimidated. He doesn't know how to impress you, he only has himself and it's not enough.

"Can you stay sober until then?" He blurts out.

You crack a crisp laugh that echoes in his studio apartment, "I'll try," you vaguely answer.

The initial thought is he wants you to stay away from drinking except when he's there with you but you took it that he was being playful with you. Well, either way, he's glad that he can make you laugh.

"I'll see you again," you say with a bright smile.

"See you again," He says back.

And Han hangs on to those words, to the promise that he can see your smile again.

-

It's eight minutes past 8 pm on Friday night.

It's past the appointed time for the date but there no sight of you yet. A few minutes shouldn't be considered late, you must be on the way here and things happen, you may forget something after getting out of the door or traffic or... there's just so many reasons why you—

Han feels a tap on his shoulder which makes him turns on his feet.

"Hey, have you been waiting long?"

He is not ready to see you, not when he's almost think that you'll ditch both him and the date. But here you are, looking at him with a smile that gradually fades into a confused one.

"Are you okay?"

He snaps himself out of it and clears his throat, "No, I'm just—" he forgot the question you asked him and try again, "I mean I'm okay."

You look up at the sign of the place he takes you for the date, "I've never been here," you comment.

Doesn't know what to do with his hands, he shoves them into the pockets of his jacket.

"Me too," he casually says.

"Huh?" You blink your eyes at him, confounded.

-

Consider both of you lucky that there's still one more table available, it's Friday night so it's no surprise that it's crowded with people. Upbeat music is playing in the big hall filled with rows of ping-pong tables mixed with the sounds of the ping-pong balls hits either the players' paddle or the tables.

You shake the jacket off your shoulder once you get to the assigned table, "I don't know how to play table tennis," you admit right away to prepare him that an accident or two is imminent.

"Me too," he innocently answers from the end of the table as he takes a paddle.

That explains why he never been here but still, why would he takes you here if he can't play?

"You're not serious, right?" You place your jacket on the empty bench on the side of the table.

"I'm serious," he says as he takes his jacket off.

You burst into laughter but he's just so clueless on why you're laughing.

"Most men would use this chance to show off that they're good at something but you..." you shrug and choose a paddle to use.

Han takes a ball from a box and bounces it on the table, "Well... I am not most men," he coyly says.

Not going to lie, that's so attractive of him, especially with strands of his curly hair falling over his face.

"Okay," you nod in acknowledgment.

You take your position on your side of the table, warming up your hands by opening and closing your hands before wrapping your hand around the handle of the paddle.

"Your serve," you give him the permission to start the game.

Han also takes his stance and throws the ball straight upward, he supposedly hits the ball when it's still hung in the air with the paddle but instead of that, his paddle flung across the table and caught by the net.

There's a dead air hanging between you and him as you both stare at his paddle stranded in the middle of the table. You look away to not embarrassed him more and see everyone is having a bottle of beer on their table.

You turn to look at him and ask, "beer?"

"Yep!" He shortly replies.

After two bottles of beers drained and a lot more failed attempts at serving the balls, you get the hang of it even though it's not to the level of what a proper ping-pong should be played.

"Another round?" You ask.

He doesn't wait but calls to order more drinks, "More beers, please!"

At the second round, your neck is moist with sweat and you can feel beads of sweat forming on your back, you plop down on the bench in exhaustion. Han gulps his bottle of water next to you, "another round?"

"I'm on a roll, sure!" You eagerly accept the offer.

"Loser have to pay for dinner?" He dares you with a lopsided grin.

It's a fair game since you're both terrible at it, you have nothing to lose except for your self-esteem. You offer your hand for a handshake at him, "deal!'

He takes your hand and firmly shakes it, "deal!"

The game is getting intense, you have your hair tied in a messy ponytail while Han has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbow. Under the fluorescent lights you can see the evident veins coiling his arms, got you distracted more than once.

It's a tie, there's only one point needed to determine the winner. It's his serve so you prepare yourself to receive it even though your hand starts shaking.

"Don't go crying when you're lost," he teases you, bouncing the ball against the table with his hand.

"No problem. I look prettier when I cry," you shot back at him with a nonchalant shrug and a smile.

Han catches you off guard and shot a topspin serve. Fortunately, you reflex is still good despite your body is close to giving up, you shoot the ball back to him as hard as you can. He's heading to the right side to get it but too late to catch the ball right on time, it goes past him, bouncing to the wall on the back.

"Yes!" You jump on your feet to celebrate.

While Han just stands there and gives you an applause with a defeated look on his face.

"I WANT BURGERS!" You enthusiastically shout at him loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Okay, okay," he quickly responds and gestures you to calm down.

Since he's the one paying for dinner, you feel bad to order a lot of food so you take him for coffee and dessert after as a way to pay back for dinner, also because you're still hungry.

He lifts his cup of iced americano to make a toast, "To celebrate that we're no longer beginners on table tennis!"

Your hands are shaking when you lift your cup of cappuccino and he notices too, sending you both into laughters. You use both hands to lift it and carefully clink your drinks together to not slosh the content, "that was a good game," you comment.

"It was!" He agrees and drinks his coffee with a straw.

You share two slices of cakes together, he chose a cheesecake while yours is tiramisu, digging at it with forks and eating it between talks.

"Are you working on a writing at the moment?" He asks.

You wash down the spoonful of cake with coffee before answering,

"Kind of..." you vaguely answer.

"Is it for the upcoming literary contest?" He asks.

"I'm working on a lot of things at once," you share with a dry laugh.

Han nods and shoves a piece of cake into his small mouth. His cheeks are round and full when he's eating, you find them really adorable.

He catches you watching him eat and you hurriedly look away, "so..."

You remember the unanswered question on the last conversation you had with him at his place, you've been wondering what his true answer is.

"What do you think of my writings?"

"They're great. I like your choice of metaphors and yeah, they're great," he answers with mouth stuffed with food.

You sense that there's more than just great. You slightly tilt your head to the side and look at him, "But...?"

He stops chewing as you ask him that like he got caught lying. Maybe he is lying but with a good intention.

"You can be honest with me," you assure him while cutting a small piece of the cheesecake.

He sips his coffee to empty his mouth from food and properly answers to you, "There's nothing wrong with your writings," he begins.

He sits up straighter and looks at you, "it's just that... I get this impression that you're a bit... cynical?"

You lowly laugh and say, "wrong!"

You chew on the cake and stack your hands together on the table, "Not a little. I am cynical," you correct him.

Han licks his lips and presses them together into a thin line, perhaps feeling bad for analyzing your personality through your writings.

That only proves that he's not only reading for the sake of entertainment but he truly reads things between the lines. In that moment, you feel so bare and vulnerable in front of him.

"I witnessed two people falling out of love, breaking and tear each other apart until there's nothing left of them," you candidly share and put your hand around the coffee cup to absorb the warmth.

"Why would I want the same? I've seen enough for like... the last fifteen years of my existence so no, thank you, not interested," You conclude with a sad smile.

Han meekly nods as he sips the last of his coffee in silence. It's unclear why you decide to share personal things with him but deep down you know it's because he's not going to laugh at your pain.

-

With no sight of stars and the moon in the night sky, it only means that there are big dark clouds and it's going to rain soon. Han insists on walking you to your apartment even though he has to walk back to the bus stop to go home.

Notice that you're only a block away, you don't want this night to end with the tragic story you shared about your parent's divorce.

"I had a fun date," you comment.

Han smiles and he has the kind of smile that shines from the inside, there's nothing fake about it.

"It was a fun date," he says.

"I never had a date this nice before," you add to show him that you're not being phony.

"Me too," he responds.

He said those two words three times so far and you begin to wonder if you're actually suck at dates. You always skip this part and go straight to the sexual stuff, maybe that's why.

Once you both arrive at the entrance of your apartment building, you turn around and without thinking you ask, "Want to go upstairs?"

With another man, you wouldn't fuss much whether they want to come with you or not but with him, you have this force inside you to not screw this up. You look at him and can't tell if he's nervous, or surprised, or horrified. He's just standing with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets even though the weather is pleasant.

"We don't have to do anything," you quickly mutter and immediately regret it because what if he wants to do something?

As always, honesty is the best policy. Well, that depends on how embarrassing the truth is. This one is still bearable, so you say, "I still want to talk to you."

The streetlight shines down on him, filling his brown eyes with dark glints and enthralling you to stare.

He nods and follows you inside. You feel awkward leading him to your floor, climbing the flight of stairs in silence but the echoes of your footsteps on the steps.

"Here I am," you stop in front of the door to your unit.

You rummage inside your purse for your key and push the door once you unlock it. The second you hear the song playing inside, you hurriedly close it again.

"What?" He asks you in a mix of panic and curiosity.

"Alex is listening to Sza," you answer.

"Alex?"

You forget that he doesn't know the context, you lock the door again and stand blocking him as if he would dare to barge inside.

"Alex is my roommate and she puts on Sza when she's having a guy over as some sort of code," you concisely explain.

"Ah..." he sighs in relief.

Is he relieved because he doesn't have to come inside or relieved because he doesn't want to talk to you? Is he— you never let your negative thoughts win so you find the alternative.

"How about your place?" You ask with a sly smile.

He considers it for a moment then says, "We should run then."

"Run? Why?"

"The last bus is in fifteen minutes," he simply answers.

"Oh?"

-

The two of you are drenched from running from the bus stop to his apartment in the rain, he lets you use the bathroom first to change while he prepares clothes you can borrow from him.

Han puts it on the end of the bed and you can comfortably change as he takes his turn to use the bathroom. You seem to have found comfort in his apartment which is a lot tidier after he realizes that someone could visit him uninvited.

Candidly speaking, the only person he thinks would come visit him is you.

You pull out a record from the shelf and put it on the record player, the music drowning out the sound of raindrops pattering against the window glass. As if it's your own bed, you sit with your back resting against the headboard, covering your legs with the duvet.

"Why are you standing there?" You ask him.

He towels dry his hair quickly before doing what you ordered him, sitting next to you on the bed.

"It's not like we haven't shared a bed before," you add and get comfortable by putting a pillow behind your back.

Whether it's the proximity or because he has run through the rain that makes him feel snug and warm all of a sudden, the raindrops pattering against the window supports this comforting atmosphere.

"How long have you been collecting?" You gesture to his shelf full of records.

It must be a headache to find a certain record because he doesn't organize them but you refrain from telling him.

"Some are my father's, I brought them with me when I moved out of the house and I started collecting two years ago," his fingers are playing with the lint on his sweatpants as he's speaking.

"You own some rare ones?" You ask in a curiosity.

"I have The Beatles White Album with printing number 0000523," he answers with a proud smile.

"Wow!" You exclaim in awe, you're familiar with the knowledge that the value of the album can go up significantly if it has a low printing number and he owns one.

"Just know that if I lost it, I'd know that you did it," he jokes.

"Dang! I was planning the whole robbery thing in my head," you joke back.

The rain has turned into drizzle and it gets quiet in the room, but the kind that makes him not feel pressured to fill it, a comfortable kind.

"What's your favorite song?" You ask out of the blue.

He hisses because it's like you're asking who is his favorite child. Not that he has any but he knows the dilemma.

"Don't think!" You tell him.

"Just one that pops on the top of your head," you offer an easy way to pick one.

There's this one song that automatically plays inside his head when he looks at you. It's one that he's unconsciously humming when he's in the shower, tying his shoes, or pouring himself a cup of coffee in the morning.

Not sure if you can catch the reference, he calmly answers, "Lovely Day by Bill Withers."

You nod in acknowledgment and smile, "That's a nice one!"

He turns to look at you, "and you?"

"Off You by The Breeders," you shortly reply as if you have waited a long time for this question.

Except that Han never heard of the song or the band. He feels bad for not knowing and you catch on it right away.

"You never heard of it?"

Han sheepishly shakes his head.

"You're lucky that I still have my Spotify premium," you playfully say and pick up your phone to play the song for him.

You set the volume to the highest setting then put your phone between you and him on the bed, listening to the intro of the song of low, minimal bass and guitar. The song somehow fits the moment, the singer sings like she's telling a story or a poem.

"I am the autumn in the scarlet. I am the make-up on your eyes."

That's such interesting lyrics and Han intently keeps listening to know why this is your favorite song. One thing he knows is this is one of the songs he can listen to while lying and staring at the ceiling.

"I've never seen a starlet or a riot or the violence of you."

He hears you sigh next to him and he looks to the side to see that you're crying, he knows it for sure as the tears on your cheeks reflect the lights at him. He leans and checks to see if you're okay, he puts your hair away and then tucks it behind your ear.

"Are you okay?"

You look at him with your eyes glassy and filled with sadness, "I don't want to get hurt," you croak

It must be scary for you to open up to someone when you've seen the worst thing love can do to a person. He understands the fear well because he has the same heart that lies and beats inside his chest.

It's vulnerable yeah but we are never fully broken to the point that we're irreparable.

However, Han doesn't intend to break it, he wants to embrace it, nurture it, and protect it with all of his might.

He cups your jaw with his thumb and gently wipes your wet cheek, "I'm not going to hurt you," he says with a soft smile.

More tears roll down your cheeks as you close your eyes, it's a heartbreaking sight to see.

To prove his words, he holds your face and leans in to kiss you, pouring all of his heart's content that strangely only expands in size the longer he kisses you.

Han lets go of the kiss yet holds a tender gaze with you, "I'm not going to hurt you," he reassures.

You hold the hand holding your face and softly smile at him, a smile that tells him that you've decided to trust his words.

For that, Han slowly sails into your heart and strands himself on the island inside your chest.

You rest your head on his shoulder as he puts his arm around your shoulder, welcoming you into his warm embrace. Both of you stay like that while listening to the rest of the song which encased you both in a bittersweet moment.

"I land to sail... Island sail. Yeah, we're movin'... Yeah, we're movin'..."

-

This is what he means when he says Lovely Day automatically plays in the back of his head when he looks at you.

Han has been watching you sleep for a few minutes now, leaning against the desk with arms crossed in his chest and he can vividly hear Bill Withers singing inside his head.

"Just one look at you and I know it's gonna be a lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day."

You're pretty when you cry but even prettier when you sleep with a hand under your head, so still and so quiet, looking like an angel lost in her dream.

"Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day," the song is playing in his head on a loop.

The sun is rising and he doesn't want you to wake up yet for he wants to stare at your face longer. The sight of the baked goods he bought from the bakery across the street is disagreeing with him, it was still hot when he bought it and it's more likely to get cold if you don't wake up soon.

Then again, how can he disrupt an angel who's peacefully sleeping and away from the harm of the world?

Well, the sound of your phone ringing can.

A crease forms between your eyebrows as you force yourself awake from slumber. The song playing in his head abruptly stops and it reminds him to stop watching you. Han gets away from the bed and pretends to be busy in the kitchenette. In his peripheral, he can see your hand groping around the bedside table for your phone and check it.

"Morning!" You sleepily greet from the bed.

He plays it cool and turns to see you, "Morning!" He says back.

"Coffee?" He asks with a clean mug in his hand.

"Yes, please?" You say with a delicate smile that soothes him like a morning dew.

"Can I stay on the bed?" You ask with a shy laugh.

"Yeah, sure," he replies, looking at you wrapped in a blanket.

Han brings your mug of coffee first and makes another trip to bring his and the bag of bakery on the other hand.

"What do we have?" You're eyeing the bag, not daring to look into it yourself.

"Breakfast," he casually says and opens it for you, the buttery smell of freshly baked goods wafting around the room.

You start with a sip of coffee then dig inside the paper bag to grab a piece, tearing at it and eating it piece by piece.

You get interrupted by your phone dings with a new message.

"Your roommate?" He wildly guesses.

"Yeah, she wants me to come home quick," you answer, "she needs the intervention."

"Huh?"

"That means she doesn't like the guy she's having over in our place and wants me to intervene, you know, an excuse to get him out of the house," you explain then lick the powdered sugar on your finger.

"I see," he says even though he wants you to stay a little longer.

Just like you heard his thought, you quickly add, "Not that I don't want to stay. She did it for me like two months ago so I kind of owe her one."

He sips his coffee and assures you, "It's alright."

You rummage inside the paper bag to get another piece and without looking at him, you ask, "I have something to ask you."

He suddenly turns rigid at the men of something to ask because it sounds intriguing, scary, and exciting at the same time.

"Yes," he grips the handle of the mug a little too hard.

You bite into the bread with a custard filling and gets on your upper lip. In reflex, he wipes it for you with his thumb and you giggle once you notice the mess around your mouth.

"And the question?" He asks, genuinely curious about what you're about to ask him before the custard gets in the way.

"Oh, yeah, uhm..." you drink your coffee and hold it with both hands on your lap, "Is it too early if I ask you on a second date now?"

That, he didn't expect to hear at all but it makes him feel the same way, intrigued, scared, and excited, it's a mixed feelings.

"No," he honestly answers with a shy smile. He's never been with a girl who's this bold and so upfront like you, he likes it though, it makes things easier for him.

"How about tonight?" You ask with hopeful eyes and even a hopeful smile.

When you asked if it's too early he didn't know it would be this early, the earliest he could think of is next Friday.

"To–tonight?" He stammers.

You tilt your head to the side and hold your mug close to your lips, "No?"

"No," he responds without thinking.

He immediately realizes you might have thought he answered out of pressure, "I would love to!"

A smile rises on your face as you bite into your bread again, "okay," you say.

Han makes the bed and then gets himself another cup of coffee while you're changing in the bathroom. He's already planning on going back to sleep after you leave.

Your phone rings again at the same time you step out of the bathroom, "Alex! Oh, my God!" You groan and accept the call.

"I'm coming!" You briefly speak into the phone then hang up.

You shove your things into your purse and put on your jacket, looking at him to say, "I'll text you about the date."

He nods and puts his coffee mug down to send you off, watching as you bend down to put on your shoes with your hair falling around your face like a waterfall.

You gasp as you stand right in front of him, "See you later?"

"See you later," he repeated, his voice tinted with excitement and intrigue but not scared.

He should have known that you're subtly hinting at a kiss as you look at him with a sweet smile on your face. This is why learning social cues is important, he missed a lot of things because of—

The next thing he knows, your lips are on his lips and your hand is fisting the front of his t-shirt, clutching at it as you brush your soft lips over his. You taste as sweet, as smooth as the custard cream you were eating earlier, he just can't enough.

Bill Withers' voice starts to fill his head again as you pull away from the kiss with a smile on your parted mouth.

"Okay, then," you hurriedly let go of his t-shirt and shyly fix your hair, "bye!"

The song keeps playing even after you leave and close the door behind you, he can hear Bill Withers singing the part where he holds the note for 18 seconds, endlessly playing in the back of his mind.

"Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day...."

-

Han doesn't want to be late so he leaves early but when he gets to the appointed place that is a museum, he sees the sign that says closed. Is he late or come to the wrong place? He checks the text you sent him and he's right, it's the only museum with this name.

He starts pacing and thinking of calling you, that way you don't have to bother coming here.

"You're early!" You say as you come from the other direction.

"I was about to call you," he blurts out.

You sense the panic in his voice and ask, "Why? What's wrong?"

He shows you the closed sign hanging on the glass door of the museum entrance, "it's closed."

Instead of disappointed, you break a laugh and gently grab his elbow, "it's closed because of the event we're going to attend," you explain, then link your arm with his to walk towards the entrance.

Despite the closed sign, the entrance is not locked but security is stopping both of you at the end of the hallway. You pull something out of your purse and show it to them, tickets.

They let you both walk through the scanner and enter the main hall of the museum, they keep the lights low but he can see people gathering around the small stage that is set between two large marble statues with a big painting decorated on the wall on the back.

"What is this?" He asks in pure curiosity.

You take two cups of beer provided for guests and hand one to him, "It's an exclusive music session, only fifty people are invited to this," you keep your voice low to avoid the chat echoing in the vast hall.

"How did you get the tickets?" He asks along with a sip of his beer.

"From a friend of a friend," you vaguely answer.

That's enough details, he's sure that someone like you has contact here and there. He shouldn't be surprised, he sips his beer and takes a spot on the back row of people getting ready to watch with the intro starts playing from the set.

"Is it a band I know?" He asks.

You scrunch your nose at him, "not sure."

The intro is building up and getting louder, the crowd welcoming the band with a wave of applause and patiently waiting as they get ready with their instruments. There are three of them, the vocalist takes center stage with a guitar slung across his chest, the one who greets the crowd is taking the left side with his keyboard and the other one occupies the right side with his drum kit.

It's one band that he never heard before but he likes how experimental their music is, the kind that is groundbreaking and atmospheric. They mix the sounds from their instruments with samplers playing from an electronic kit, the big hall helps echo the music back at him to create this grand sound effortlessly.

With only a small group of people watching and no one pulling their phones out, it's immersive and intimate. You ditch the cup of beer and turn to look at him, putting your hands on each side of his waist, singing the lyrics the band is playing.

"I just want to love you in my own language," you mouth every word of the lyrics to him.

With a smile, you lean in to gently kiss him in the dark of the room. You pull away from the kiss and put your hands around his neck, slow dancing to the song like two lovers left alive.

-

The taxi ride home reminds him of that night except that you're sober and you're sitting close next to him, holding his hand

"What do you think of our second date?"

He looks up from watching his hand clasped with yours on his thigh, "it was nice."

You nod, "Nice is good!"

It was more than nice that he can't describe it with words, Han feels the need to assure you that, "It's the best date I've ever had!"

A smile grows on your beautiful face like a blossoming flower, "our first date is still the best but this comes close to that," you half agreed with him.

Han is getting used to seeing you on his bed and wearing his clothes, smiling as you watch him getting onto the bed to sit next to you.

"Don't you want to play your songs like that too?" You ask out of the blue.

He wanted to but he's not confident if he is that good and there's another thing too. He shakes his head and shyly laughs at the brief images of him performing his songs.

"Why not?" You ask.

"I'm not that good," he shortly answers.

You scrunch your nose in disagreement and he likes it whenever you do that, "I don't believe that."

He hates to disappoint you but that's just the truth, the songs he wrote, he's not planning on letting them out to the world for everyone to hear.

You stack your legs to one side, facing him, "Can I ask you something?"

Another question, how thrilling! He nods in excitement at what you're curious about.

"Is the second date too early for us to have sex?"

Han chokes on his saliva and stifles a cough. A part of him wants to take things slow with you but another part of him fancies you so much he can't say no to you. He should choose to be wise and choose the former, right?

"Uh... I think we should wait until the third date," he says and his mouth feels bitter saying it.

"Ah, okay," you repeatedly nod.

A moment passes in silence then you turn to look at him, "I mean, we can start by sleeping naked together," you suggest an idea.

He swallows air at the mention of 'naked' and 'together', it seems impossible to him to do that without involving anything sexual in between.

"Or we'll wait for the third date, that's fine," you quickly add with an awkward laugh.

Things are moving so fast that Han is still having a hard time processing everything that happened in the last seven days. But why would he stop when things are going well between you and him?

You wanted this and he wanted this too, as long as you both are going in the same direction, why hit the brake and risk everything going off track?

"We can sleep naked together," he says with a plain tone.

"Yeah?"

He nods and turns to sit on the edge of the bed, volunteering to be the first to take his clothes off. The bed shifts and he guesses you decide to start taking your clothes off too.

Han hurriedly gets under the duvet and watches you unclasping your bra. He stops looking as you get up to remove your underwear. You crawl back onto the bed and get under the cover, slowly settling yourself next to him, putting your hand on his bare chest.

"You're shivering," you lowly speak with your face only inches away from him, then proceed to snuggle next to him.

He stares at the ceiling because he knows, if he looks at you, he wants to kiss you and a kiss will unlock the raging desire inside him. He can feel your nipples graze his side as your body overlaps half of his body, your leg drapes around his with your foot softly rubbing his shin.

You lean into his side and place a long kiss on his neck, your hand slides down his front, stopping right on his abdomen.

"How about now, mmh?" You softly whisper.

Using your fingers, you lightly touch his abdomen making lazy circles on the skin.

"I have condoms in my purse if that's your concern," you tell him.

Han is getting weak with every kiss you place on his neck and the skin behind his ear. He turns his head to the side and is about to tell you what his concerns are but you capture his lips in a rapturous kiss.

You gently lick his lips before pulling away, "I want to do this with you," you assure him.

He doesn't know how to tell you that it's not you, it's him and his low self-esteem. He kisses you again to brace himself to speak his worry with you.

"I'm bad at it," he says.

That gets you quiet for a moment, "says who?"

He's unsure of it too but mostly it's the anxiety talking, "Me?"

You lowly chuckle and put more of your body on top of him, "How do I know you're bad if I haven't tried?"

That's what confuses him too. It's not like he has a rating written on his head for his sex skill, "I—"

You cut him off with a kiss and shut him up for good as you keep kissing him, your hand sliding lower until you meet his hardening member.

You stimulate him with gentle strokes, lightly rubbing his tip with your thumb while lowly moaning against his lips. You pull away from the kiss to say, "You can touch me."

Hesitate for a while, Han rests his hand on the arch of your back, his fingers trailing down your spine as you continue kissing him. You know how to use your lips, your tongue, your teeth, he can lay there and let you kiss him day and night. He wraps his arms around you to fully feel you against his body, skin to skin.

"How are you so soft?" He doesn't mean to say it out loud but you smile hearing his words.

You give him a long peck on the lips before excusing yourself to get the condom from your purse. His eyes follow you as you climb onto the bed.

Sitting next to his body with all of your hair draped on one shoulder, you rip open the foil packet and carefully, roll the rubber down his length. You crawl over his body and slowly put your body on top of him, continuing the fiery kisses that kindled the fire inside him.

This time, Han lets his hands freely roam your body, trailing the curve of your body, and feels your flesh molds into the palm of his hands.

You place a long peck on his lips before getting up, kneeling with your body between your bodies. You put your hand on his chest and say, "Just lay back, I'll do all the work."

He swallows air and with his own eyes, he sees you taking a seat on his thighs and wrapping your hand around his swollen cock. You rub it against your wetness which he can see and feel, it takes everything in him to not let his brain shut down.

"Oh," you moan with your eyes closed as you keep rubbing his shaft between your folds.

You roll your head around while letting out a long moan and then look at him in the eyes with a sly smile on your face. Still holding it in your hand, you position yourself and align his cock with your entrance, then you slowly lower yourself down his length.

"Oh," you moan again.

It's the sight of his cock disappearing into you that gets his jaws hanging open, you moan some more as you take all of him and seated on his thighs again. A low laugh spills out of your parted mouth as you tilt your head back, then say, "Oh, my— oh, I need a moment!"

Han feels like he's having an out-of-body experience, he's getting turned on more from looking at you doing things to him than the feeling of being inside you. He believes it's because his brain has a hard time catching up, he can only look at you with eyes wide open.

"How do I feel?" you lowly ask with a peck on his open mouth, then kiss his neck next, "Do I feel good, mmh?"

His brain is so close to short-circuiting that he can't form a verbal answer, he stifles a nod and draws a big breath instead.

As you straddle him, you take his hands and put them on your body, touching yourself using his hands, smooth as silk that he whimpers under his breath. You drop his hands on your thighs and put your hands on his chest as you start rolling your hips back and forth, at times, you move in circular motions.

Han lets out a groan as you abruptly stop moving and take his hands away from you, "Give me a moment," you say with a hoarse voice.

You flip all of your hair away to the back then plant both feet against the mattress on each side of his body. You prop your hands behind you and against his thighs as support.

In this position, Han can see his cock slips in and out of you as you bounce on top of him with your head thrown back and moaning, filling the room with your lewd noises. He can feel it now, your walls wrapping and tightening around him. His hands flew to your hips, trying to slow you down but instead of that, he gripped each side of your waist until his nails dug into the flesh.

"Oh..." you breathless moan.

"So good, so good," you repeatedly chant as your hips pick up the speed.

He doesn't mean to cum first but watching you enjoying yourself and fucking him so good gets him so overwhelmed, it just happens.

Seeing you getting tired, he helps you by guiding you to move on top of him. Your skin is moist with sweat, your breasts are bouncing with every movement and your breath is ragged.

"So close, oh, so close," you tell him between your whines.

He draws you close until your chest meets his so he can start bucking his hips from under you. His mouth is pressed against your shoulder as you're moaning so close to his ear.

"I'm cumming, oh..." you muffle your scream by pressing a haste kiss on his lips.

You whimper against his lips as you're reeling from the immense pleasure, returning the kisses with tongue and teeth clashes in your mouth. You both gasp for air the second you let go of the kiss and slowly come down from the high by cuddling each other.

Han gets comfortable touching your body now, he lightly touches you and kisses the skin that he can put his lips on as you're lying on top of him.

"That wasn't bad," you say with your eyes closed.

He notices the blissful smile on your face that can only mean everything went well unlike what he thought it would be.

You lean in to kiss his cheek and kiss his lips next, longer than the previous one, "This counts as our third date," you remark.

It usually scares him that things are going so fast but this feels right. Maybe all these times, he was wrong trying to fit everything into everyone's standard when in fact, things should go at his own pace.

He wouldn't let this slide away just because the time it took from him knowing you to date you happens in a week.

"Okay," he agrees.

You smile and place a long peck on his lips, "we're dating now," you say.

"Yes."

"I am your girlfriend now," you inform with a sly smile.

He lets out a chuckle and puts his hand on the nape of your neck, "And I am your boyfriend."

"That's right!" You respond.

"We're boyfriend and girlfriend," he remarks.

Even though it feels foreign in his mouth, he likes the sound of it. You and him, boyfriend and girlfriend.

-

TWO MONTHS LATER

Han is so used to thinking that he's the only character existing in his life. Han shopping for groceries by himself, Han does his laundry himself, Han makes coffee for one, Han sleeps alone on his bed, and he thinks of those kinds of scenarios in his head often enough to prepare himself that maybe what his future would be like.

Never once did he think another character would enter his scenarios. But looking at you walking around his apartment in his clothes, eating food from his fridge, and sleeping together almost every night, he starts to think that maybe his future wouldn't be as bleak as he thought it would be.

He also used to be by himself, he can't stand being in a room with anyone else and it's strange how fast he can adjust himself to your presence.

He's happy as long as you're around him, just like now. He's sitting with his back against the headboard, a guitar on his lap, and been aimlessly playing it yet you remain unbothered, lying sideways with a hand propped under your head while reading a book, occupying the end of the bed.

Even sharing the silence with you isn't boring, it's comfortable and nice. How can it get boring when he gets to see your beautiful face as much as he wants?

"Babe?" He calls.

You look away from your book, "yeah?"

"Want to hear a song I wrote about you?" He asks with a sly grin.

You exhale and close your book, "Okay, let's hear it."

Han takes a breath and memorizes the chords he's going to play, he begins by placing his fingers on the guitar fret to form the A chord.

He strums and starts singing, "Spinning on that dizzy edge. Kissed her face and kissed her head. Dreamed of all the different ways. I had to make her glow.”

Once he finds the rhythm, he can confidently look at you as he continues singing and playing his guitar.

"'Why are you so far away?' she said. 'Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you, that I'm in love with you?'"

With such agility, his fingers seamlessly change their position based on the chords he's playing on the fret.

"You... Soft and only. You... Lost and lonely."

He smiles as he sings and stares at the expression on your face as you intently listen to him.

"You... Strange as angels. Dancing in the deepest oceans. Twisting in the water."

He raises the note at the end and croons, "You're just like a dream. You're just like a dream."

He aggressively strums the strings to end the song and lifts his guitar in pride.

"It's good, right?" He asks with a subtle eyebrow raise.

You turn and lay on your stomach, not sure if you know that in that position, he can see your cleavage as your breasts almost spill out of your black tank top. He shouldn't be seeing those but it's easy to tell you're not impressed with the song he played.

"Three things," you simply say.

"Go ahead and tell me," he allows you with a hand gesture.

"First, you think I wouldn't know that it's The Cure song?" You ask with a hand under your chin.

He looks up and shrugs, he can't find any reason why you wouldn't know such a widely known band, "Well..."

"Second is I don't like love songs," you share with an apologetic smile.

It hits him just now that he should know you're not a fan of love songs. He agrees with a nod, "Okay, noted. The third?"

"I don't want you to write a love song about me," you say.

"Oh, come on!" He groans in complaint.

"I haven't been dating anyone in a long time and now that I have a girlfriend, I have so much to get off my chest so let me be gooey and cheesy!" He rambles and runs out of breath at the end of the sentence.

"I'm not saying you can't write love songs," you say with a subtle eye roll.

"You want me to write love songs about... someone else?" He asks with confusion.

"Or about something like your faded and worn-out Supreme t-shirt," you answer.

Han can't tell if you're trying to mock him, make fun of him or completely joking, either way, he's feeling offended.

"Can I write a hate song about you then?" He asks.

You scrunch your nose and ask, "A hate song?"

"Yeah like things I hate about you," he says with a sneer.

He picks up his guitar and places it on his lap again, "You know what? I wrote one already just now," he says.

You stifle a laugh and lightly shake your head, "The stage is yours."

Han lies about making a song in his head just now but he starts by strumming his guitar and plays a combination of chords.

"I hate your hair..." he begins, strumming two chords in between as he thinks of another lyric.

"The way it always falls perfectly in place and makes you look like a girl in a shampoo ad," he tries to fit the melody to the chords he's playing.

"Hate it when you fix my grammar and insist that it's pronounced keen-wah instead of queen-noa," he continues while thinking of another thing he hates.

"I know you're right but god please let me be a man with pride."

You dramatically roll your eyes at that one while keep listening to him as he goes through a bridge which is just him playing the same four chords on repeat.

"Hate it, hate it that I'm your boyfriend," he keeps going.

"Now people going to compare us and say you have the prettiest smile," He slips two chords in between, "but that's okay... because I have the bigger brain."

You frown at that one and throw daggers with your eyes, he takes that as his cue to stop with his make-up song and ends it with a slap on the guitar.

"So..." he drags the word as silence hangs in the air, "what do you think?"

You tilt your head to one side and stay quiet for a moment. You rub your temple is never a good sign and he prepares himself for the worst.

Then you suddenly ask, "Want to make out?"

He repeatedly nods like a happy puppy, putting away his guitar as you crawl on the bed towards him. You put your leg over his body and sit on his lap.

You smile as you look down at his face with your hands holding his face, and then you slowly put your lips on his lips, kissing him with fondness.

He no longer hesitates to touch you, he puts his arms under and around you, angling your head so he can kiss you deeper, and when he pulls away from the kiss, he drags his mouth down the column on your neck.

"Han?" You softly call.

He hums and answers your call with a kiss because that's most likely what you're going to ask him which is to kiss you again.

The hand on his chest pushes him away and keeps a few inches between your faces, "I read your journal this morning," You suddenly confess and hurriedly kiss him, knowing that he's going to be mad about it.

It's his turn to push you away with his hands on your shoulders, "You went through my underwear drawer?"

There's a surprised look on your face, "Ew, no. It was lying near the window sill," you say.

It's his habit of forgetting things, where he puts them, and forgets to put them back in its place. He's bad with his memory but the thing is you read it.

"Another thing on the list of things I hate about you," he remarks.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," you sigh.

"I wrote about my most personal things there," he says with his hands resting on your shoulder blades.

"Like how you lost your virginity in the backseat of a car while Radiohead's most depressing song is playing in the car stereo?"

"Exit Music For A Film is not depressing," he defends himself.

"They wrote it for the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack and they didn't even play it in the movie because guess what?"

"It's depressing?"

You nod and put your hands on his chest, it's time to turn the conversation back on track, "No one wants to listen to a song about how you lost your virginity but your other songs are good."

"You should let them out to the world," you say with eyes that sparkle and make his heart leap.

He turns away to not let your charm win him over, "You know how I feel about being a singer, by myself on a stage... it's awkward," he explains.

You turn his head back to look at you, "Okay then let's make a band!" You simply solve.

"Unless you want to join then I don't have anyone who wants to be in a band with me," he says with a defeated sigh.

You turn his head back to face you again, "how about a one-man band?"

"That's even lame. I never heard a successful one-man band," he says with a chagrin.

You put on a shocked face and start to list all the one-man bands you know, "Paul McCartney, Prince, Phil Collins, Bon Iver, Tame Impala, LCD Soundsystem, M83, Sufjan Stevens... and Dave Grohl basically started The Foo Fighters by himself," you finish with a proud smile.

"Dave Grohl and I are different entities, he is in Nirvana and I'm just... me, loser," he gives another explanation that makes him not pursue music.

"Being dramatic again," you sigh and rub your temple again.

He slides his hands down your arms and squeezes your elbows, he understands that you're trying to be supportive of his passion but he's not sure of his talent.

He sees your disappointed face and lifts your chin, "I'm not that good," he says.

You don't even try to deny him, probably have enough of doing it for him.

"And I'm still mad about you reading my journal," he says with a pout.

You put your hands around his neck and draw him close, "How about I give you head to make up for it?"

That gets him hot and bothered in a second, he plays it cool as if your words didn't affect him at all.

"Well, if you insist," he says.

You chuckle and kiss him, continuing the make-out session that is put to a halt by an argument. Your hand swiftly works open his jeans and slips inside, palming his hardening member with your hand.

"I'll make you forget that you were mad at me," you whisper before kissing him down his chest and pulling his jeans down to let his cock out of its confine.

Han has already forgotten that he was mad at you the second you take all of his length into your mouth, you're lying between his legs and taking your time to please him with your mouth.

Not just that, he's slowly losing his mind as you keep sucking him and combining it with your hand pumping the rest that you can't take with your mouth.

"Are you close, baby?" You ask before putting his swollen cock in your mouth again.

"Uh-huh," he breathlessly answers.

You pull it out and gasp for air, pumping his cock slick with your spit as you ask, "Where do you want to cum?"

His brain is foggy to pick one out of so many options but you notice that he's eyeing your chest and understand it right away.

You let go of his cock to take your tank top off and let your breasts hang down your chest as you lean down over his crotch to continue sucking his cock. Your nipples are grazing his thighs and his legs twitch at how it arouses him in a newfound way, "close, baby?"

He repeatedly nods and watches you keep the stimulation going by pumping his cock at a quick pace, bringing your chest close as you're doing it.

You put all of your hair to the back, not risking any of his bodily fluid lands on it. You moan and sigh, looking into his eyes as you say, "I can feel you twitching in my hand."

With a few more pumps, the white arch of his seed erupted from the tip of his cock, painting streaks on your chest and breasts.

"You cum a lot, baby," you say with an impressed, sultry smile for him to think that it's a complaint.

You keep your hand going up and down his shaft, milking every drop of the pearly white essence. You use the tip of his cock to smear it all over and around your nipples.

Once you're done playing with his cock that gradually softens in your hand, you crawl over to kiss him.

"Are you still mad?" You ask with a sweet, sinful smile.

He puts on a dumb smile and says, "Me? Mad? I must be crazy to be mad at you."

-

Han is in the middle of his class when he receives a new text message, he should be thankful to whoever texted him because he almost falls asleep until his phone buzzes on his desk and startles him awake. He checks the text by putting his phone under the desk and smiles seeing your contact name as the sender.

"Meet me at the library steps after class," you wrote in your text.

The library steps are located on the steps of the building across the library but they call it the library steps because most students like to read or study while sitting on the steps. Not sure if you know that his class has ended, he looks around and can't find you, so he takes a seat on the steps with his backpack next to his feet.

The weather is cool and pleasant, he has an hour before his next class starts so he has time to wait and enjoy the weather. After a few minutes, he spots you making your way toward him and he gets up to welcome you, you're walking so fast and not slowing down even though he's only a few meters away.

Crash is imminent but that seems to be what your intention is, you loop your arms around his neck and pull him for a kiss. This marks the first time you kiss him on campus and it's nerve-wracking, he can't stop thinking how many people are watching him now.

He looks around the second he lets go of the kiss and finds that no one truly cares. Well, it's not like kissing on the campus ground is illegal so why should he worry?

"Oh, I have fifteen minutes before my next class so I'm just going to text you what I need to tell you," you explain everything in one breath.

"Why can't you tell me now?" He asks, perplexed.

"Because you're most likely to forget it so I'll just text you," you answer and fix the collar of his shirt.

"Then why did you ask to meet me here?" He asks again even with more curiosity.

"That's because I want to see you and kiss you," you simply answer and give him a quick peck on the lips with a giggle.

Han laughs, the kind of laugh that makes him shine from within, a part of him that he has never seen until you brought it out of him.

"Why? I can't do that?" You ask with a chuckle.

He puts his arms around you and pulls you close, "We can definitely do that."

Han takes his turn to kiss you, giving you a long, lingering kiss and trying to keep it appropriate. He endearingly brushes your hair after and tucks it behind your ear. The sun hits you right in the eyes as you look up at him with a smile that is as warm as your smile.

"I have to go now," you mutter.

"Okay," he says and presses a long peck on your lips before letting you go.

It's been months since he dated you and he can still hear Bill Withers singing inside his head.

"Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, lovely day..."

-

The address you sent is of the house of someone he doesn't know but he recognized some faces as he walked inside so he assumed it belonged to a fellow university. You said you'll be waiting by the kitchen but it's a big house and it's hard to navigate through the sea of people without bumping into one.

After getting lost in a maze of big and expensive furniture, he finds you in the kitchen like you said, nursing a bottle of beer while leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Hey, you're here!" You exclaim as you see him coming to you.

You're going right into his arms to hug him, "Miss you," you mumble.

"You're drunk already?" He jokingly asks.

You scoff and look at him, "Not even close," you answer.

It's impossible to resist kissing you when you're this close and you're smiling at him, your hands are around him like his personal comfort blanket. Han leans in and gives you a short yet sweet kiss on the lips.

You giggle when he pulls away and hands him your beer, "I have someone I want you to meet," you say.

Han doesn't realize that someone is standing at the end of the counter until you gesture him to come. A small guy wearing a beanie and glasses perched on his nose, he dressed so casually for a party in a white t-shirt and jeans.

"This is Felix," you introduce him.

Felix smiles and offers his hand for a handshake, "I'm Felix," he says.

He gets taken aback by his deep voice, not expecting that it's coming out of this elf-like person, "I'm Han," he introduces back.

"I know Felix from my communication class, we're doing an assignment together and I found out recently that," you turn to look at Han before continuing talking, "Felix plays drums."

Now he gets your intention of inviting him to this party, you know he hates coming to things like this but he understands now.

"I told him about your songs and your dream of forming a rock band," you explain,  avoiding his eyes are you speak since you're doing all of it behind his back.

"Yeah, I'm interested," Felix says between his sips of canned Red Bull.

Han doesn't know how to explain to Felix that it's never his dream to form a rock band, it's mostly you and your steadfast conviction that that dream will come true.

"I don't—"

You cut him off by grabbing his and Felix's hand, "Now, come follow me," you say.

Han and Felix are trailing behind you as you lead the way to the basement of the house that he believes is off-limit to guests.

You open the door to what he guesses is a door to a supply closet, it's indeed that from stacks of sheets and towels on the shelf but on the back, there's another door. From the way you know that it's a sliding door, he believes you've been here but that's a question he'll ask later in private.

"Welcome to rich people's man cave," you announce.

It's a recreation room filled with fun and expensive stuff, it's a literal man cave because Han can imagine him spending most of his time here if he were the owner.

"Are we even allowed here?" Felix asks, being the only one with a conscience.

"I know the owner of the house and I've been here before," you reply but not really answering his question.

Han glares at you for now but something else behind you steals his attention away, a custom Fender Stratocaster. He goes to admire it with his hands.

"Felix, you may want to check this," you say, throwing away the white sheets covering the drums.

He gasps at the sight of it and not waste time sitting behind the drums, touching the surface of it with amazement in his eyes, "Why would they keep this sweet thing hidden in here?"

You stand in the middle of a room and watch them admiring musical instruments like they're historic artifacts. Having enough of being ignored, you say, "You guys can start jamming together, perhaps?"

Han turns to look at you and with his eyes widening, he asks, "You want me to play with this?"

"Yeah."

"Are we even allowed?" Felix asks again.

"No one can hear us playing," you reply and again, not really answering his question.

"How do you know people are not going to hear us jamming in here?" Han asks.

"Uh... I just know," you answer with a grin and a shrug.

"It's soundproofed," Felix adds as he touches the lined walls behind him.

"And it's soundproofed," you repeated his words.

Han doubts that your intention to help him form a band will go according to plan but he can't resist playing the guitar and there's no harm in playing one song.

"What do you usually play?" Han asks Felix.

"Metal, death metal, post-death metal, rock, classic rock..." he lists the genre instead of telling him the band names.

Han thinks of one famous rock song widely known by people but at the same time, he wants to test how knowledgeable Felix is within the rock genre.

"Let's play Black Hole Sun," Han says to him.

Felix thinks for a while, "Soundgarden? Yeah, okay," he agrees.

Now that the guitar is slung across his shoulder and right in front of him, he feels nervous to play it. He plugged the cable that connects it to the amplifier, he's tuning it while Felix is warming up and tightening the screws on the drums.

"Woohoo!" You cheer even though they barely started yet.

Han searches for the chords first on the internet to refresh his memory and warm up his hands, "Ready?"

Felix gives him a thumbs-up in response.

Han starts playing the riff then Felix comes in right after. It's a whole new experience for him to play a song with someone or just like what you called it, jamming.

"Black hole sun, won't you come and wash away the rain?"

with no mic, Han sings as loud as he can but it's impressive how Felix stays on the beat.

"Black hole sun won't you come, won't you come..."

He's too focused on watching Felix nailing the part that leads to the end of the song that he missed a chord, but quickly recovering from it.

"Woohoo!" You cheer again and Han almost forgot that you're in the room with them.

It was thrilling and exciting, he can feel his heart pounding with the guitar still hanging around his chest.

"That was fun!" Felix says with a grin.

Han is at a loss for words, not expecting that he'll love it this much. Maybe he's meant to form a rock band like you said. He holds his hand up at him for a high-five, "Good job, man!"

Felix excitedly high-fives him with a big grin on his face, he looks much more attractive without his glasses and Han can see freckles dotted his cheeks.

You wait until he puts the guitar down to jump at him and fortunately, he's strong enough to catch you, you press a haste kiss on his lips with an exaggerated smooching sound.

"See? I told you!" You tell him before pressing another kiss with your hands around his neck.

Maybe it's the adrenaline still lingering, he kisses you so passionately and ignores that there's another person in the room.

Another person comes into the room and surprises everyone that Han immediately puts you down, "Who are you guys?"

Han glances at you and you glance at him, there's a moment passed in awkward silence, then you make up an excuse on the spot.

"We accidentally stumbled here to get some privacy, you know," you purposely slurring your words and holding on to him to imply that you're drunk.

Han plays a long and puts his hand around your waist, drooping his eyes and putting a stupid smile on his face. He seems to buy it from the way he shifts his eyes to Felix.

"And what is he doing here?" The owner of the mancave asks.

"He..." you drag the word as you think of something, "likes to watch?"

The three of you are still laughing after getting out of the house and stopping to lean against a stranger's car, composing yourselves back from what just happened.

"You said you know the owner of the house," Han says.

"I know but we're not acquainted," you defend yourself with a sly smile.

You turn to Felix and pat his shoulder, "I'm sorry for making you a perv, Lix!"

"That's alright!" He responds with a coy shrug. He's digging into his pocket jeans to pull out his car keys.

"Where do you park your car? Mine is down the block," Felix asks.

You glance at Han before looking back at Felix, "We take public transport. We're a very eco-friendly couple," you say with a sneer.

"Ah..." Felix lowly gasps, "I remember you said your boyfriend is too nervous to drive a car."

Han wonders how much work you put into the group assignment because it seems like you shared things about him a lot rather than doing that.

"Let me give you guys a drive home," Felix kindly offers with a smile.

There's nothing phony about Felix. Han has met a lot of people in his life to know when someone is only putting up a good front but not with Felix, he can tell right away that he's a genuinely kind person.

As a way to get back to you, Han runs to the passenger's side before you and shouts, "Shotgun!"

That leaves you no option but to reluctantly get into the backseat of the car.

After turning the car engine on, Felix leaves it for a while to warm up while he connects his phone to the car stereo, "You don't mind that I put on some music, right?"

Felix is so well-mannered but Han doesn't find it obnoxious, he finds it adorable instead, "It's your car, do what you want."

Once he settles on a song, he backs the car out of someone's driveway and starts driving with one hand on the steering wheel. The song starts with a one-chord guitar strum and followed by a steady bang of drums.

"I AM IRON MAN!" You and Felix shout at the same time.

You lean forward between the seats and put your hand on his shoulder, "it's Lix's favorite band, Black Sabbath."

"Yes, I know," Han says with a snide smile.

"Why aren't you singing along?" You ask, cupping his chin with your hand.

Felix is focused on looking at the road ahead to pay attention to him and how you treat him like a baby, not that he doesn't like it but he prefers not to do it in public.

"Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk at all? Or if he moves, will he fall?" You and Felix sing at the same time.

Han is just too embarrassed to join in but he knows you won't stop teasing him until he sings. Besides that, he can see why Felix likes this band, it's the intense and fast-paced drumming. He's doing it now by tapping his steering wheel with both hands.

Han decides to join when the song gets to the second chorus, "Nobody wants him. They just turn their heads."

"Yeah!" You exclaim in satisfaction and raise your voice louder.

"Nobody helps him. Now he has his revenge," the three of you filling the space in the car with your singing.

The song reaches the climax of heavy riffs and an impeccable guitar solo that makes him feel alive as the car glides through the night.

-

Today will be the first time for Han and Felix to do a band practice together.

Felix regularly practices his drumming and he can use the studio, one of the facilities provided by the university but its use is limited in time, they can practice on Thursday and Saturday for two hours.

"We'd better get started," Han says even though he hasn't tuned his guitar yet.

Han and Felix are in the middle of playing a warm-up song when you come into the studio, carrying drinks for them in one hand. You sit in the corner and watch them until the end of the song before handing out the drinks.

"Iced Americano for the boyfriend," you say as you hand him his drink with a kiss on the cheek.

You walk up to Felix to hand his, "Super sweet latte for the drummer."

"Thank you," Felix mutters and takes a big sip of it.

"Okay, I'm going back to sit in the corner and watch you guys jamming," you say with a smile, sitting on the stool and sipping your drink through a straw.

After taking a break, Han turns to Felix to ask whether he has studied the song he wrote to start practicing it.

"Yeah, I have but I saw that it's not finished yet?" Felix asks while tightening the screws on the drums.

"Yes, I plan on working the rest of the song together with you," Han answers.

Sure, Han is capable of working on the rest of his song himself but he wants to be in a band so every decision he's making now will not be his own.

Felix is patient yet eager to learn, he has musicality that Han believes is above him but he's unaware of it. He's humble and easy to work with, he couldn't find a better partner than him.

Two hours passed without him realizing it and he almost forgot that you were there in the room until you come his way, "Can we grab dinner after this?"

Felix packs his drumming sticks into his backpack, "I second that!"

Since the practice turns out to be a great one, it's only right for him to let the good times roll.

"I'll treat dinner!" He announces and you share a celebration high-five with Felix.

-

The practice is going well but Han feels something is missing. He's reclining on the seat after finishing his meal earlier than everyone else.

"I think we need one more member," Han suddenly shares.

You stop shoving another French fry and ask, "Why? I think you guys sound great!"

Han shrugs, he can't explain it because it's just instinct, "Two-man band is not it. You know what happened to The White Stripes," he explains with an example.

Felix wipes his mouth with a napkin and gulps his cola, "but that's because they have a half-decent drummer."

Hearing Felix's comment, you put down the French fry you're about to eat and push the plate away, "Don't you dare to drag my girl, Meg White, into this!" you say with squinted eyes at Felix.

"That's just fact," Felix innocently says.

"Three things," you say and rest your back, crossing your arms in front of you before laying out the three things on why Felix is wrong.

That's one of the things Han likes about you, you're not scared to speak your mind. He knows very well that you have strong opinions about certain things, he just doesn't like it when he's on the opposite side of things.

Felix is the unlucky one to be in that position right now but Han is more than happy to watch it from the sideline.

"First, their marriage got in the way," you begin with an obvious fact there is.

"Second, Meg took the "less is more" approach and you can get more power when you have more space and give songs character," you eloquently state.

"And third, Meg's parts are full of choices most drummers wouldn't make and that what makes her a one-of-a-kind player."

When Han thinks you're done explaining, you continue while leaning forward on the table, "'Seven Nation Army' is a perfect example of how simple doesn't mean boring. How many drummers would be satisfied playing the same beat for an entire song?" You aim the question at Felix who's looking petrified sitting across the table and too afraid to speak.

"Exactly!" You say even though he doesn't say anything but you take his silence as an answer.

"It's worth sacrificing our egos for the good of music," you finally conclude.

Han can't decide if he should stop it and risk getting trampled in the process or let it be which is a safer option.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Felix stammers.

"Tell that to Meg White!" You tell him.

"Uh... I'm sorry, Meg White," Felix apologizes again.

"Good," you shortly respond and lean back to continue eating your fries, turning back into your normal self.

After making sure you're relaxed and tame, Han decides to continue the talk about looking for another member.

"Anyway..." Han lets out a sigh and uneasily glances at you to continue speaking, "I think we need a bassist."

Felix drags his cup of soda and meekly sips it through a straw, "I don't know any bassist," he says.

"I can play bass but then I can't play two instruments at once, right?" He says with a smirk.

You lean to his side and coo, "Oh, must be tiring to be so good at everything!"

He playfully kisses your lips since you're leaning so close to him and it tastes salty. You giggle as you sit back to continue eating.

Something must have popped into his head as Felix shouts, "Ah, I have a friend who plays guitar really well."

That gets his hopes up that Han feels so optimistic about it again, "Yeah?"

"But she lives abroad now so..." Felix sounded so heartbroken when he said it.

"That's very helpful, Felix," you say while stealing some fries from his plate.

Han draws a sigh but it's too early to give up now, he has just started the band and who knows he'll find a new member soon.

"We just have to keep looking then," Han says.

"Yeah, I agree," Felix responds.

"I'll help," you eagerly offer with a sweet smile at him.

He endearingly pats your head and smiles back at you, "Of course, you are," he can't help but give you a quick peck on the lips.

You're not complaining when Han is riding shotgun again, probably not letting go of the argument you had with Felix earlier. Thankfully, Felix knows how to win you over.

"As an apology to Meg White," he says and presses play on his phone.

The iconic riffs of Seven Nation Army blast through the car stereo followed by the signature thumping of Meg White's drumming.

You break into a smile and shout, "Yeah, Meg White rules!!!"

-

Once he gets the privacy in his studio apartment, Han wraps you into a tight hug and kisses you so hard that you squeal, almost running out of breath.

"You're so hot when you argue," he says with a sly smile.

You chuckle and hold him back, putting your hands around his small waist, "Oh, you want to argue with me?"

He shakes his head and says, "No, I don't want to be on the wrong side of things."

What he said implies that you're always right about things and he knows that will win your heart with it.

"Good choice!" You say.

As expected, you reward him with a long, lingering kiss that escalates things further.

Being inside you strips him away from his sanity. He's thrusting into you hard and he doesn't know how you stay so calm and composed under him.

Your eyes are wide and awake, so still that he can see his reflection in them. You're smiling as you affectionately brush his hair to the back and caress his face.

"You're fucking me so good," you tell him with an open-mouthed kiss and you know that he needed to hear that.

It feels inexplicably intimate and raw, he feels naked than he already is with the way you're staring deeply into his eyes.

"Stop looking at my sex face," he turns to look the other way.

You chuckle and turn his head to face you again, making him look you in the eyes while fucking you.

He can't lie that he's close to his high, can no longer contain his groans so he lets them spill out of his parted mouth.

"Oh, fuck..." he curses between his grunts as he launches his cock deep inside you.

You break into laughter underneath him while he's still reeling from his high and his cock still planted deep inside you.

"What's so funny, mmh?" He asks with a kiss on your jaw.

You shake your head with your hands still hanging around his neck, "Nothing."

"You're making fun of my sex face, huh?" He says with eyes closed.

You don't answer but keep laughing even after he collapses onto the bed next to you, "Stop laughing!"

That doesn't stop you from laughing, he crawls over and puts his body on top of you, pressing a kiss to stop you from laughing.

It's a fruitless effort that you're still chuckling when he lets go of the kiss, "I hate you."

He presses a hard kiss on your mouth again and with a conflicted feeling he says, "But the sex was so good I can't hate you."

When he returns from the bathroom, he sees you already dressed in his t-shirt and lying on your side of the bed with your eyes closed.

He dives right into your arms with his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, he puts your hands around him just how he likes it.

From the way your hand slips into his hair and softly scratches at it, he knows that you're still awake.

"So, how did it feel playing your song for the first time?" You ask.

A lot has happened in the last 24 hours but it's mostly good, practicing his song and getting to hear how it turns out is a feeling he can't describe.

What's important is this feels right to him, it feels like it's meant to be.

"It feels... amazing," he says with a dreamy sigh.

You hum in answer and place a soft kiss on the top of his head, "I just know that you're going to be great."

Your faith in him is unwavering and he starts to believe that forming a rock band of his dreams is possible and that he can create great things with this band.

"You know, Nirvana has this secret track called Sappy," you suddenly share with your voice low and sleepy.

"It's a great song and I wish that a lot of people know about this song," you say.

You pause to take a breath and quietly exhale it, "but at the same time, I want to gatekeep it."

You lift your head and search for his eyes to say, "That's you."

Han lifts his head to hover above you, putting inches between your faces, "You're saying I'm Sappy?" He jokingly says.

You sleepily smile and lick your lips before talking, "I want the world to know how great you are with your songwriting, your music, your wit, your unfunny jokes..."

He glares at you, feeling offended that you think his jokes are not funny.

"But at the same time, I want to keep it for you myself," you say with eyes that shine and show how honest you are with what you said.

It's a heartwarming analogy and he understands the sentiment in it. He hasn't shown all of his yet but you talk about his greatness like they're written in stones. Han appreciates you more for saying that and seeing through all of his shortcomings and weaknesses and unfunny jokes.

The sound of you calling his name, your laugh, your smile, your low snores, and everything that comes out of your mouth. Those are his favorite songs.

He places a soft kiss on your lips and murmurs, "You are my favorite song."

As much as he wants you to share your greatness with the world, Han wants to keep you for himself.

-

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