#the night cafe band

[mazzy-rockstar]

RIP Sean Martin

Gone way too soon at 26, but your memory will remain here forever. Rest easy legend 🤍🕊️

[blinkiesreal]

blinkiessssss

[lokissweater]

i know your name ✭

{gojo satoru x f!reader}

summary: gojo satoru was practically everyone’s god as his shiny charming reputation has followed him ever since high school and through college— his band he had with his best friend suguru packing the local college pub every night just to see him sing and play the bass. unbeknownst to you, satoru has been keeping an eye on you, and when you officially meet him right before one of his shows, satoru just about falls to his knees over you.

warnings: MDNI. college au, CAR SMUT be patient!!, fingering, squirting, a bit of oral hehe, cursing, angst, FLUFFF, FILTHY DIRTY TALK, a sprinkle of degradation, tinyyy mentions of alcohol and drinking, gojo is obsessed with reader, afab!reader, jealousy.

word count: 8.8k

authors note: oh my goodness this one took me a FAT MINUTE but it’s SO SO CUTE and i hope you all think so too!! thank you thank you for all of your notes on my works!! MWAHH.

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“please come with me to the alley, i don’t think i can handle one moron and an even bigger moron by myself.”

shoko shimmied her jacket onto her shoulders, a disgruntled and pleading look on her face as she turned to face you. “they’re only playing a few songs, and you don’t have to drink!”

you laughed softly. “who’s they?”

“suguru and satoru, they’re playing at the alley.”

“gojo satoru?”

the cogs in your brain spun as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, a bit apprehensive. the alley was the place everyone went to at your college to get drunk and laid, and it also happened to be the place where the two boys played their band almost every night— satoru mainly having connections with the owner of the bar to even allow a bunch of college kids to trash the place to begin with.

you didn’t necessarily know satoru, but in your years of observing him back in high school, you knew he was viewed by anyone and everyone as a god, his reputation shiny and impressive as he had the greatest charisma and charm you had ever seen.

you remember back to when basically every other day he was getting confessed to in the halls or in class— or after school… or literally anywhere now that you thought about it.

but satoru has never been prideful or rude, even though it was something that was supposed to be written for him being the most popular guy— but he just simply didn’t follow it.

satoru was kind. really kind. and even though he got millions of confessions per year, he treated each rejection with gentleness and respect, never turning a cold eye to anyone as he apologized profusely and tried to help them feel better.

he always volunteered to do your class banners and plan your school’s activities, festivals, and field trips so nobody else had the burden of missing out on the fun. he always helped out the gardener after school and watered the plants with them (soon after practically taking over the entire shift for free and telling them to relax on a bench), tutored his friends and peers when they asked him for help, and made anyone that felt left out feel included.

that’s why he was so popular. gojo satoru was a ray of sunshine with bright blue eyes and white ruffly hair, with a gorgeous face that you never saw without a smile— loud and obnoxious and a little clumsy, but kind.

“i still don’t know why they started a band.. but they get pretty big tips every night so i guess that’s why,” shoko muttered, sipping the last of her iced tea as she got up from her seat— the cafe you were both sitting in quiet and warm as you copied her actions and stood. “or could be because satoru likes the attention.”

you weren’t close with suguru or satoru like shoko was, and you’ve never even properly met them either, but you always listened to her whenever she’d complain and understood her completely nonetheless.

you laughed at her last comment and smiled. “i’ll go… but i can only stay for two songs! i have class at seven am tomorrow.”

she smiled wide and threw her arms around you, “thank you thank you thank you!”

you’ve never actually been to the alley before, only having heard about it through the grapevine and from your other classmates that went, parties and concerts and drinking never really on the schedule for you. you honestly loved parties and concerts, and you loved the idea of hanging out with people and doing whatever your hearts desired until the sun came up.

but ever since you started college, your high school group kind of disappeared, and now you only really have one true best friend that you preferred over anything else, that being shoko. your nights are usually always calm and filled with studying or self care, your little life quiet and independent as you navigated through the days on your own.

and although you were a bit lonely at times, yearning for another soul to share your nights with, you learned to enjoy your own company.

the alley was a couple of blocks down from the cafe you and shoko were originally at, your ears already picking up on the vibrations of guitars and drums from outside as she approached the bouncer at the front, not even being able to get a word in before the big man was already telling her no.

“no?!” shoko dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “i was literally here last week, i’m friends with the band that’s playing.”

“sorry we’re at max capacity—”

“it’s okay, they both can come in. they’re on stage with us.”

your eyes snapped to the door and you recognized geto suguru, his long jet black hair cascading down to his shoulders as he sported an all black outfit— politely smiling at the bouncer.

the man moved to the side and ushered us in, shoko’s shoulders dropping in relief as you both walked in and over to a table by the stage. “thank you suguru.”

he nodded. “if i don’t, satoru will throw another fit again and say you don’t love him if you don’t show up.”

shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you, her lips pressed into a thin line. “you see what i mean?”

“shoko!” a loud, booming and enthusiastic voice rang through the pub as you turned, spotting none other than satoru with his long arms open, more or less throwing himself on her. “you came!”

“you threatened me—”

“i did no such thing!” he sprung back. “are you not here out of the goodness of your heart? to support your two best boys living their dreams?”

“no.”

“shokooo!” he whined and you giggled, which caused him to snap his head in your direction, finally noticing your presence.

her.

“oh! hello,” he smiled kindly to you and extended his hand. “i’m satoru, and you are?”

“y/n!” you grinned sweetly and politely to him, taking his cold hand in yours and shaking it.

“are you a friend of shoko’s?”

you nodded.

he cocked his head to the side, “how come i’ve never seen you around?”

“oh i don’t go out too often, that’s probably why,” you laughed lightly, a little embarrassed by your answer.

he beamed anyways, his smile so big and brilliant that you were starting to see for yourself exactly why everyone loved him so much, not that you didn’t already know the reason behind it in the first place.

“me neither!”

satoru was still holding your hand.

“yes you do!” shoko scoffed. “you’re barely ever at your apartment and i always have to be your designated driver—”

he gawked, glaring at her. “that’s not true! i was home yesterday!”

“because you were hungover.” suguru mumbled.

you laughed again, and satoru turned back to face you, a grin on his face.

just then, a rather large group of guys started making their way towards your area, all beckoning and calling for satoru while holding up several shot glasses, his head snapping towards their direction and flashing a dazzling smile.

“satoru come!”

“satoru take some with us!”

he gently let go of your hand and raised his, waving high as he readjusted his black round sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, “give me a second! i’ll be over!”

satoru turned back to you, resuming the conversation.

“sorry, she lies. she likes to lie. i’m glad i didn’t go to high school with her.”

“yes we did— i’m going over to your followers and stealing a shot, goodbye.” shoko grumbled, throwing her purse on the table and walking away, dragging suguru along with her.

“we actually um..” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “we went to high school together.”

“oh i know.”

your eyebrows pinched together.

he knows?

“you used to water the garden on days i couldn’t afterschool, right?”

your eyes widened a little.

“oh! and you used to fix the class banners whenever i didn’t notice my fuck up, which was always.” he patted the top of your head and laughed, “thank you for that by the way.”

“you knew?” you murmured, a rosy tint to your cheeks.

“duh,” his eyes softened. “i’m sorry i never thanked you properly then.”

you shook your head dumbly, a little spaced out as you took in what he said. “no it’s okay.”

your eyes then fell to the instruments and band set up behind him, suddenly remembering that he was performing tonight.

“so what do you guys play?” you spoke up gently, hands wringing behind your back. “do you play original songs? or covers?”

“covers! 80’s covers.” he explained excitedly. “suguru and i switch off singing. i play the bass and he plays the guitar, and we have a couple of extra friends in the back playing the drums and keyboard.”

your eyes sparkled as you watched the stage set up process, black chords scattered everywhere on the ground in disarray as several individuals on the platform tuned their instruments or plucked out a few notes.

“80’s?” you perked up. “what kind of 80’s?”

“what kind?”

“yeah! morissey? the cure? new order—”

satoru was awestruck, mouth slightly parted. “you know who they are?”

you quickly nodded, a cute smile on your face.

“you like the cure?” he asked quietly.

“i love the cure.”

satoru practically had hearts in his eyes as he beamed down at you with a stupid face, his heart a little frazzled with a familiar feeling sparkling in his chest.

“satoru!”

he snapped out of his trance and spun around, suguru on stage beckoning him over. “sorry, we have to start.”

“okay!” he walked backwards as he quickly faced you again and smiled, a little frantic. “i’ll talk to you after we play! i’m gonna quiz you on it so pay attention!”

you laughed, your hand covering your mouth a bit as you nodded. “is it counting towards my grade? or is it extra credit?”

“extra credit if you go on a date with me after the show!”

you stopped.

“she can’t! moron,” shoko suddenly appeared beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “she’s only staying for two songs!”

gojo’s jaw dropped slack, his shoulders slumping as he got up on stage, arms out. “two?!”

you grimaced, an apologetic look on your face and kind of feeling like a lame grandma as you nodded, “i have class at seven am tomorrow!”

before he could even respond, satoru got pulled by tech crew to test out his microphone, and you and shoko gradually settled yourselves on the high bar stool chairs at your table.

“odd,” she muttered with a funny look on her face.

“hm? what is?” your eyes switched to hers.

“satoru’s never asked a girl out before.”

your eyes bulged open. “never?”

“never.” shoko sipped a little at her beer and gave you a comforting smile. “i’ve always seen girls try it with him and ask him out or simply just follow him around like a lost dog, but he’s never gone after anyone.”

you watched a little smirk spread across her face, and your hands grew a tiny bit sweaty as you swallowed thickly.

“if you’re interested in him, there’s a line. but i think you have a head start.”

the music started— suguru introducing himself, satoru, and the band calm and pleasantly before they began playing their first song. it was loud and rhythmic, vibrations murmuring through the floor as your glass of water shook on the table with every note.

they weren’t bad at all— they were actually pretty good, really good, and you found yourself not really wanting to admit it since it seemed like satoru was good at a million different things regardless of category or genre.

“do they have a name for their band?!” you yelled over the music, leaning your frame a little closer to her without taking your eyes off of the stage.

shoko snorted, “the strongest monkeys.”

you threw your head back and laughed loudly, looking at her incredulously. “really?!”

as he performed on stage, satoru noticed you laugh and he smiled against the microphone, a vision he connected back to high school, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was internally a little unsteady as your pretty eyes watched him play and sing— feeling embarrassed whenever he would trip over a chord clumsily like he seemed to do at every freaking show, but feeling better seeing as it made you giggle.

by the end of their second song, you showed shoko the time on your phone and tried to stand as discretely as possible in attempts at not disturbing anyone around you, grabbing your purse from the arm of your chair and swinging it over your shoulder.

but when you looked up, satoru was already looking at you as suguru spoke through the microphone, his eyes wide and pleading as he held up his index finger.

“one more song!” he mouthed. “please.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip anxiously, your eyes darting around the pub and back to the time on your phone before they landed again on satoru.

“stay.” he mouthed again.

and for reasons you couldn’t explain, your body pulled you back down on the stool and you sat— shoko quirking an eyebrow at you in confusion.

satoru’s face broke out into the brightest smile, a smile equivalent to the blinding rays of the sun as he pushed up his round sunglasses and gave you a cute thumbs up.

“thank you.”

and your heart stuttered.

you eventually decided to stay for the rest of the show, seeing as it was already late as fuck anyways— and they played few more songs then, a mix of well known 80’s songs as well as a few underrated ones, your head nodding gently to the beat and swaying your little shoulders. in the midst of it, satoru had been watching and glancing in your direction so many times throughout the show, that he subconsciously started mimicking your little shoulder sway on stage as he performed.

college girls screamed practically every five minutes when the boys did anything, some even going as far as running up the platform and reaching up for satoru’s hands or ankles as he played, him smiling bright at each and every one of them with shoko shaking her head in disappointment— her forehead falling to the palm of her hand as you laughed.

ironically by the end of it, the band closed with the cure, and as the crowd dispersed and several took their leave from the alley— some shouting words of praise at the boys, you and shoko stood and walked over to the stage. satoru in a heartbeat noticed you coming over and hooked his mic quickly back on the mic stand, tossing the strap of his bass over his shoulders and setting it down before hopping off stage.

“did you like it?” he panted hopefully, trying to catch his breath as his forehead glistened with sweat, his hands on his hips.

you smiled gently. “i did! good job, you both played really great songs.”

suguru gave you a small smile in gratitude from the platform as he unplugged and untangled a few chords— and satoru beamed, nodding. “i’m glad! okay, here comes your quiz!”

“oh god.”

“we played the cure at the end…” satoru dragged out.

“mhm…”

“what song?” he tilted his head to the side, and your cheeks went pink as you grinned.

“pictures of you,” you replied softly. “it’s my favorite one.”

satoru’s forehead fell to rest against your shoulder, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“i would expect nothing less from you, y/n.”

you hummed out a laugh, and his heart did a tiny somersault at the sound before he picked his head back up and looked at you softly.

“thank you for staying.”

shoko bounded over to you then and looped her arm through yours. “ready to go?”

you nodded quickly before smiling sweetly at satoru. “i’ll see you around! thank you for—”

“wait!” he shot his arms out frantically with wide eyes. “what about our date?”

you froze. “our date?”

“unless you want the quiz to count towards your grade…” he mumbled lowly, eyes darting on everything and everywhere except you with pinky cheeks.

“i didn’t think you were being serious about that..” you spoke gently.

his eyebrows furrowed. “why not?”

“because you’re gojo satoru,” shoko butt in.

you quickly flicked her forehead— your lips pressed into a thin line, earning a little laugh from satoru as you turned your head to look at him again.

“i have an early class tomorrow… ill see you around though, okay?”

without thinking, satoru reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him.

“let me take you to class.”

shoko and suguru exchanged a look and your lips parted, eyebrows pinching together.

“what?”

“i’ll take you to class in the morning,” he looked desperate. “and i won’t count the quiz towards your grade.”

you were skeptical, very skeptical, unsure of what satoru wanted from you in this situation. you had just met him, properly at least, and though you knew he was a good person, you weren’t sure if that was still relevant in the field of picking up girls.

you looked to shoko, who shrugged, and your eyes landed back to satoru’s pleading one’s, your entire body and soul hesitating.

“i—” you gnawed at your bottom lip, a nervous habit as you took in the way he looked like a sad little puppy the longer you took to respond, your heart not having the ability to ever say no to anyone, ever. not even him.

“okay.”

his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a puff of relieved air as he gave you the biggest smile, nodding hopefully.

“okay! h—here-” he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “if i could— if i could have your number? and i’ll text you when im on my way and stuff…”

you shakily took satoru’s phone, the screen already opened up to the ‘add contact’ feature as you typed in your number before passing it back to him.

“thank you!” he beamed. “i’ll see you tomorrow then?”

he was so excited, and you really didn’t know why, but you couldn’t help but give him a sweet smile of yours in return, nodding.

“see you.”

when you finally arrived home that night, it didn’t take satoru even ten minutes after that to text you.

(unknown): i have good news for you miss y/n

you stared at your phone, your heart jumping a bit as you typed back a response.

(you): and i have bad news for you satoru

(satoru): WHAT

(satoru): ok wait me first

(satoru): congrats you passed my class!! that quiz bumped up your grade from 0% to 100% ur so smart

(satoru): but if your bad news is you rejecting me i’m FAILING you

(you): HAHAHAHA

(you): silly silly

(you): my bad news was that i always have banana milk on my way to school in the mornings and unfortunately i don’t have any extra for you :(

(you): i ran out ;(

within the two minutes that it took for you to respond with your declared bad news, satoru was absolutely shitting it, wholeheartedly believing you were going to reject him and leave him to dramatically rot away all alone.

he replied quickly, a goofy smile on his face.

(satoru): that’s literally the only reason why i asked you out :(

(you): and how do you know i have banana milk in the mornings before school?

(satoru): OH

(satoru): SO ABOUT TOMORROW

you giggled, wiping the last of your makeup off and turning off your vanity light before jumping into bed, snuggling into your covers as the cool air softly touched your face from your open window.

(you): *address*

(you): pick me up at 6:30 please, if that’s okay :)

(satoru): i’ll pick you up at six miss y/n

(you): SIX WHY

(satoru): for a breakfast date silly!! okay goodnight xoxo

you hadn’t even realized the huge stupid smile on your face until your rosy cheeks started to ache.

(you): HAHAHA

(you): goodnight <3

a heart?!

satoru stuffed his face into his pillow, feeling like little love birdies were flying around his head and pecking at his hair.

the following morning, you ran your fingers through your hair and probably fixed your outfit a million trillion times before you were satisfied, a huge lump in your throat as you gnawed so much at your bottom lip that it drew blood.

you were nervous, but why? you didn’t know why. maybe because it was gojo satoru picking you up. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had a guy try to hit on you in what felt like a decade, the last time really being the last day of high school when you randomly found a note in your locker, the words literally illegible.

maybe it was the fact that satoru was the most handsome man you have ever seen.

but so was he to everybody else.

(satoru): i’m outside! :]

you wiped your clammy hands on your legs and stood, hiking your school bag further up your shoulder before walking down the stairs and out the door, seeing satoru seated in his car in your driveway.

you timidly opened the door to the passenger side and stepped in.

“hi!” he greeted cheerfully and proceeded to place his hand on the back of your headrest as he backed out, looking through his rear view mirror.

“hi!” you said gently. “you’re not tired?”

“nuh uh,” he smiled at you. “i had three energy drinks before i got you.”

your head instantly whipped in his direction. “satoru— three?!”

he giggled at your reaction, the sides of his blue eyes crinkling as he patted your head. “don’t worry silly, i’ve had maybe five at a time before—”

“five?!”

you slumped against the passenger seat and closed your eyes. “satoru, you’re gonna develop heart problems if you keep this up.”

“nah,” he reached into the backseat, his eyes still on the road. “i’m the strongest.”

and you snorted then, watching him retrieve two small bottles of juice from the back without taking his eyes off of the road.

“i got us orange juice— wait do you like orange juice? oh fuck maybe—”

you giggled and waved him off, taking both bottles from his hands. “it’s okay! i do like orange juice, thank you.” you settled them on your lap neatly. “i’ll hold them while you drive.”

“aww thanks sweets,” he murmured affectionately, and your face instantly went warm to the touch.

“i also got us breakfast bagels so we can sit and people watch before your class—” his eyes snapped to yours. “if— if that’s okay.”

your heart skipped a beat at his planning, nodding as you reached into your school bag and pulled out a little yellow carton, holding it out for him as he drove.

satoru tore his gaze away from the road momentarily and looked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“your daily morning banana milk?”

you smiled softly, nudging it towards him. “for you.”

he physically melted as he looked at your sweet sweet face and back towards the road.

“you’re giving up your banana milk— for me?”

you tore off the straw from the back of the milk box, sticking it through the little opening and offering it to him again.

“yup yup.”

he bit his lower lip as he gratefully took the milk box from you, giddy and flustered on the inside as he took tiny sips.

“an absolute delicacy, thank you miss y/n.”

before you even realized it, satoru was already pulling in to the campus parking lot, shifting his gear into park and turning off the ignition before opening his door.

“don’t move!” he sputtered suddenly. “don’t touch that door hold on—”

he slammed his door shut and you watched quizzically as he ran across the front of the car and opened the door for you, flashing an award winning smile that could shatter the earth if he wanted to.

you still couldn’t piece together why he was doing so much for you or why he was interested in the first place, but as you watched him set up the breakfast bagels cutely as you both sat on the bench, him carefully handing you yours along with your orange juice, you didn’t really have the heart to ask him why.

maybe it was the more selfish side of you, the one that always longed to share little moments like this with another being, the one that always spent her days alone watching movies or doing little crafts in her room to keep the time going, a bittersweet feeling in your chest every time you saw your classmates or casual friends post about their parties or outings.

you hadn’t realized that you didn’t respond to whatever satoru had said, and you snapped out of it.

“fuck— i’m sorry satoru, i spaced out.” you laughed softly. “what were you saying?”

he stared at you, his eyes examining your face. “what’s wrong?”

“huh?”

“what were you thinking about?”

“it was— it was nothing,” you took a sip of your orange juice. “i forgot.”

satoru shoved his face close to yours, your breath hitching and your cheeks growing pink as you watched his eyes scan every part of you, his expression concerned.

“something’s bothering you,” he hummed. “am i being too forward? i’m— i’m sorry sometimes i don’t even realize—“

“no!” you shot your arms out frantically and placed them on his shoulders, “no, it’s not that, you’re okay satoru. everything you’ve done has been really nice, so thank you.”

your voice was so sweet as you spoke to him, and even though it made him feel better to some degree, he still couldn’t shake the empty and sad look he saw on your face when you were spaced out.

he slowly retreated back and hesitantly nodded as you placed your hands back on your lap, your fingers then tearing a piece from your breakfast bagel and plopping it into your mouth.

“did you ever find…” he spoke in between bites. “a note in your locker the last day of high school?”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “how do you know about that?”

he swallowed, a sheepish look on his face. “that was me. i put that note in.”

your eyes widened as your body completely froze over, putting your bagel down— the wrapper crinkling underneath as you did so.

“really?”

satoru nodded, his flushed cheeks prominent on his pale skin as he suddenly found his bagel super interesting to look at.

“what did it say?”

he looked at you baffled. “what did it say? what do you mean?”

you giggled then, your hand covering your mouth as you leaned forward a little bit. “i could— i could barely read it. the handwriting-“

“oh my fucking god!” satoru threw his arms up in despair. “that explains so much. i was so sad i straight up thought you hated me.”

you stopped. “what do you mean?”

“i wrote my name and how i thought you were really pretty, and then i wrote my number at the bottom.” he dropped his shaking head in his hands, laughing. “but i wrote it really fast because i saw you coming so i just stuffed it in there.”

he slumped over his legs on the bench, his elbows on his knees as he moaned.

“you think i’m pretty?” you asked softly.

he turned his head to the side as he was hunched over, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he smiled gently. “very.”

gojo satoru thought you were pretty.

you smiled cutely at him, reaching out and pushing his sunglasses back up his eyes, yours warm and endearing. “silly.”

you leaned back on the bench and giggled. “to be fair satoru, even if i was able to read your note, i probably would’ve thought it was a prank.”

“a prank? why?” his shoulders deflated, an unamused look on his face. “because i’m ‘gojo satoru’ like shoko said—”

“no,” you pushed. “because you’re a good person. you always go above and beyond for others and i’ve seen that as long as i’ve known you.”

you crossed a leg over the other and smiled softly. “and because of that i’m really not sure why you like me satoru, i haven’t really done anything special but—”

“what you just said is a crime. the way you think about me is the way i think about you.” he cut in, eyes serious. “you think you don’t do anything special? i literally watched you all through high school bend over backwards for people, for me, like i did,“ he sighed through his nose. “but your intentions were genuine and pure, mine were not.”

he finished the last of his bagel and crumpled up the wrapper into a ball, tossing it in the trash can next to him as he leaned back.

satoru swallowed. “i feel like if i don’t do the things that i do for people, ill end up disappointing everyone i know. i feel like everyone’s built this image of me that i don’t even know where the fuck it came from—” he shook his head. “but i don’t want to tarnish that. i don’t want to let people down. so i just let them ask me for stuff. i don’t even like going out that much either, believe it or not. i just go when they call.”

he crossed his arms. “whenever people do do something in return for me, it’s like i’m forever in their debt and they’re always expecting something from me back.”

your sad eyes softened, the confession in front of you a reaction from him you realized must’ve been buried deep deep down his chest— without any prior chance of resurfacing until this very moment.

you never thought about his situation this way. you would’ve never thought that satoru could’ve felt like this about his own reputation, something you guiltily believed was a thing he was absolutely floored over.

“you never expected anything back from me though,” he murmured. “you fixed my fucked up banners and switched around reservations when i absentmindedly chose the wrong thing for our school field trips, and you never said a word about it to me or anyone, and you didn’t expect anything back.”

he finally turned his bright blue eyes in your direction, and looked at you so deeply, so sincerely, that your mind went completely blank.

“that’s why i like you,” satoru bashfully scratched his cheek. “you do special things everyday and— and i was moved.”

there was a moment of silence, satoru staring at the ground as you stared at him, a delicate and insecure side of him unfolding before you that you don’t think anyone has ever seen, and you intended to keep it that way— wanting this special moment selfishly just for you.

you slowly leaned forward then as you made him look at you.

“its natural for you to be upset and think indifferently about people walking all over you, toru. it doesn’t mean you’re not genuine or pure.”

raising your arm, you poked his pink cheek gently and gave him a little comforting smile. “it actually only further solidifies to me how much of a good person you are. because even though people take advantage of your kindness, you help them with what they need regardless, and do way more.”

his eyes softened.

“at the end of the day, even though it makes you a little mad, you want to help people, because if you didn’t, you simply wouldn’t do it.”

you nudged his shoulder playfully with yours, “but not anymore, okay? from now on when people are blatantly taking advantage of how nice you are, you have to draw a line they can’t cross.”

he smiled wide.

“i’d let you cross it.”

“no not even me,” you shook your head. “not that’d i’d ever anyways.”

he looked at you, and then unexpectedly, satoru slowly leaned in and pressed a delicate, soft kiss to your cheek— his lips lingering there greedily for a few seconds more before pulling away, your shocked bright pink cheeks making him burst out laughing.

you missed class without even realizing, but you didn’t have an ounce of care in your body, seeing as satoru was worth more than anything from that point on.

since then you both hung out a lot more, and you still had your little quiet nights of self care, arts and crafts, and movies— except now, satoru was present in every activity.

satoru longed for your lifestyle, and you longed for his— so the act of watching movies together until two in the morning, making horrific origami bird shapes that never looked like the pictures in the instruction manual and laughing, sorting through his 80’s cd collection in his apartment while he sampled a few for you on his bass, and singing the cure so loud through his car sunroof while he drove you aimlessly at night with a strong grip on your thigh, were all a perfect blend of exactly what you both needed most.

it was several months of spending every waking moment together that you soon eventually became a little thing with satoru. there wasn’t an official label, and you guys hadn’t even kissed, but the longer than normal embraces, kisses on each others cheeks, and intertwined fingers everywhere you went was an obvious sign that something was there.

you picked up on how people looked at you more often rather quickly ever since satoru started bringing you around his circle, wondering how you came out of nowhere and captured his attention when thousands had tried for years.

and though most welcomed you with open arms and kind smiles, the majority of his girl fan base was bitter.

shoko often told you to just shake it off and not pay any mind to it, saying that it was a bunch of mean girls with nothing better to do, but it got a little harder once a pretty black haired girl named lina started grabbing satoru for conversations almost every night at the alley.

and today was no different.

“hi sweets!” satoru greeted you enthusiastically, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as you arrived early to the pub to help him and suguru set up for tonight’s show. “you look very pretty today.”

“thank you!” you smiled wide and leaned up on your tippy toes, your body automatically pulling your lips to his until you quickly steered them to the corner of his mouth, pecking lightly before settling back down on the soles of your feet.

that wasn’t the first time you had almost accidentally kissed him, but it wasn’t just you, as satoru slipped up almost every second of every day when you both were together— the thought making you laugh internally as you followed him to the stage.

“don’t help out this time—” he pleaded gently with you as he took a high barstool chair for you and dragged it closer to the stage. “i want you to just sit and be pretty.”

you tilted your head to the side. “why toru? i don’t mind helping out i like it—”

“no i know!” he smiled sweetly at you. “but i want you to just sit there and relax and not lift a finger tonight. you’ll hurt yourself if you do.”

you giggled softly and nodded, hopping up on the stool and wringing your fingers together on your lap as you watched satoru set up his amp and readjust his mic stand, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watched the way his biceps and chest looked in his black compression tee.

“are you thirsty sweets?” he asked, his eyes trained to the ground as he untangled a bunch of chords and threw them behind him. “i can get you something from the bar?”

“oh no!” you shook your head quickly. “it’s okay toru you’re busy—”

satoru hopped off the stage and jogged over to the bar, him exchanging a few words with the bartender that you couldn’t quite make out until he jogged back over with a cold glass of sugary iced tea, placing it on your table under a coaster.

“for you.”

you smiled sheepishly, “thank you.”

“if you need—”

“satoru! hey!”

you snapped your head over to the entrance and saw lina, her wave a little flirty as she bounced over to the both of you.

lina only spared you a glance before her sparkling suggestive eyes landed back on satoru.

“oh hey?” he looked over at the clock on the wall. “im sorry, the alley doesn’t open for another two hours—”

“oh i know!” she twirled a strand of hair with her fingers. “i just wanted to stop by and see if you needed any help? you know, setting up?”

what.

your eyebrows pinched together and you looked at satoru, waiting for his answer.

“oh! um— sure! thanks!” he smiled at her, and you felt a pang of annoyance through your chest as you watched him lead her on stage and give her directions, much like how he did for you when you helped out.

you crossed a leg over the other and looked away.

satoru wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t like you could say anything or feel the way that you did… but then again, isn’t he kind of? you didn’t know, and the more you wracked your brain to try and figure out what exactly the both of you were, the angrier you got at the situation in front of you.

satoru flashed lina his world famous dazzling smile, cracked joke after joke and made her laugh, helped her when she went “confused” and helpless, and even showed her basic chords on his bass when she asked.

you pursed your lips, eyes narrowed. satoru was smiling at her the way he smiled at you and cracking jokes the way he joked with you, and your jealousy only grew as you let your mind wander if the way satoru treated you was actually anything significant if he was willing to do it for some random girl.

you sat there for what had felt like forever, people starting to pile in for the show as the alley opened, and you hopped off the stool bitterly to cool off in the restroom, not bothering to let satoru know.

just as you got in line, you felt a hand tug at your wrist.

“y/n!”

you turned around and spotted shoko, smiling until she took in your annoyed expression.

“what’s wrong?”

“lina,” you muttered.

“oh god,” shoko leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “what the fuck is she doing now?”

“satoru help me, satoru how many chords does a bass have? satoru you’re so good at singing! satoru you owe me after this!” you mimicked, your heart heavy as you let shoko lead you back to your table.

“she’s getting braver,” she muttered. “say the word y/n and i’ll fake trip and spill my drink on her it’s easy—”

you snorted, “no no, it’s okay shoko. if satoru wants to let himself be drooled over and do nothing about it in respects to me, he can be my guest.”

the show started, girls already screaming and running up the stage with, of course, lina front and center by satoru, jumping and wiggling her sick fingers up at him.

satoru was like he normally was at his shows— attentive to everyone and being just who he is, but what ticked you off more than usual was how much attention he was paying to lina, way more than the rest, and you couldn’t even watch the stage anymore when satoru reached down and held her hand for a moment, not once glancing up at you.

you were done.

“i think i’m gonna go!” you shouted to shoko over the music.

“what?!” shoko grabbed your arm. “don’t go! it’s almost over! i wanna see you chew him out!”

you laughed and shook your head. “i can’t stand being here, and he clearly doesn’t care whether i’m here or not right now so—”

more screams.

both of your heads snapped to the source.

lina was on stage with him.

you scoffed and grabbed your purse, ignoring shoko’s protests as you pushed your way through the crowd and away from the stage.

when satoru finally decided to scan for you through the pub, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your seat empty and shoko glaring straight murderous daggers at him.

“where is she going?” he mouthed to shoko.

“home!” she spat loudly, getting up herself and disappearing through the crowd.

satoru’s eyes immediately widened, his fingers clammy and numb as he started to pluck the wrong notes, suguru giving him a weird look.

“carry the show without me,” satoru quickly told him, frantic. “please, i have to go.”

suguru nodded and waved him off, seeming like he knew why satoru’s skin was sickishly pale as he carried on calmly.

it wasn’t like you to just leave without him or not tell him anything, so as he threw the strap of his bass over his shoulders and handed it to a tech member, he hopped off stage and ran through the crowd, ignoring their pleas of protest or the tugging he felt at his clothes.

you were halfway down the parking lot when you heard the pub door slam open and footsteps running towards you.

“sweets!—” satoru yelled. “hey- where are you going?!”

“home!” you yelled over your shoulder, arms crossed as you kept walking.

satoru’s stomach dropped.

“y/n!” he caught up to you and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around as he tried to catch his breath. “why? are you okay?”

“just fine!” you spat. “why don’t you go back on stage and drool all over lina—”

“lina?” he gawked. “drool? what are you talking—”

you shrugged his hands off of your shoulders. “do you not see how she’s been all over you for what seems like fucking months?! and you just let her! i’ve been ignoring it but today you really pissed me off—”

you turned away again and he immediately grabbed your waist with his hands, pulling you back.

“hey- no. tell me what i did okay just tell me—”

you scoffed. “you really don’t see it? first of all she came to the alley two fucking hours early today, and then she’s all over you and you’re all over her and you’re smiling at her and making her laugh like you do with me, and then she’s playing the little damsel in distress helping you set up while i just sat there and watched—”

“all over her?” his eyes narrowed. “i couldn’t give less of a shit about lina—”

“apparently you do!” you moved away from him, his hands falling from your hips. “because she’s giving you the ‘i wanna fuck you eyes’ every two seconds, and you’re holding her hand while you’re on stage, and then you literally pulled her on?! what the fuck am i supposed to think with that?!”

“i didn’t pull her on she jumped on!” satoru exclaimed, his arms out. “i’m sorry sweets that i didn’t notice okay i really am, but have you stopped to think that maybe i didn’t notice because i don’t care about her? i—”

“satoru you’ve been completely ignoring me the minute she got here—”

“toru.” he cut you off, voice firm. “it’s toru not satoru.”

you stopped, frustrated and hurt tears slowing brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “maybe you being a little flirt for everyone was okay before, but the minute you decided to butter me up and kiss my cheeks and call me sweets, that should’ve been over.”

“it is!” he exclaimed. “it’s been over! it never even started in the first place!”

“yes it did! you think i haven’t been watching how you are with people since high school?— you know what i’m done. i’m leaving.”

you sniffled and spun around again, but satoru only grabbed your wrist tightly and wrung you back.

“you think i haven’t been watching you?! i’ve loved you since fucking high school god dammit! i’m obsessed with you! when we officially met at the alley and i introduced myself i already knew your name and you know that! i don’t give a single living fuck about lina or anyone else but you! it’s always been you!”

you wiped your tears roughly with your sleeve.

gojo satoru loved you.

“so no. you’re not done. please don’t cry. all i’ve ever wanted was you and i let you slip through my hands in high school because i was a coward, and id rather die than let you slip through my fucking hands again and lose you over a stupid fight when i just got you!—”

“you’re not losing me i’m not going anywhere toru where the hell are you getting that from?!” you exclaimed.

“thank fuck then, so what are we still doing?! i’d cut everyone in my life off if you asked me to!—”

“no don’t do that! i was just jealous okay and i’m— and i’m angry—”

“okay but do you love me?!” he pushed angrily.

“yes! of course i do you know that!”

“okay so do i baby so what the fuck are we still fighting for?!”

“i don’t know!”

“stop giving me your little attitude then and come kiss me!”

your lips instantly collided with his as you threw your arms around his neck, fast hurried kisses that knocked the wind out of you as you both hungrily and fiercely tried to swallow each other’s lips, satoru tapping the back of your thighs and signaling you to jump on him.

you immediately sprung up and wrapped your legs around his waist, him holding you tight as he carried you over to his car and leaned you against the backseat door, his lips messily licking and swiping over yours as he seemed drunk on the taste of your sweet spit alone.

satoru dug through his pockets without breaking from your lips and found his keys, unlocking his car with a tap of a button and gently lowering you inside, him scrambling in after you and slamming the door shut, locking it.

he towered over you as he latched his lips back on yours, you laying flat on your back with your legs spread, satoru’s big cold hands on the sides of your thighs as he slowly slid your tiny little denim skirt further up— right up until he felt your silky panties under his fingertips.

“i gotta—” he said in between kisses. “take them off—”

you nodded quickly. “please take them off—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish before he practically tore your panties down your legs and stuffed them in his back pocket, his breathing erratic.

“oh my goodness,” he spread your legs gently, eyes completely wide and glazed over as he looked at your slick and shiny pussy. “you’re so pretty baby, just like how i pictured you.”

he ran a finger down your slit and your hips jumped, your teeth biting down on your lower lip as you let out a symphony of whines that satoru wanted to record on his phone and play morning, noon, and night for himself and his dick.

he stared mesmerized at your fuzzy pink cheeks and swollen wet lips as he slowly rubbed over your clit, you immediately grabbing his unoccupied hand and sticking his middle finger in your mouth to suck in response.

“oh my god—” he threw his head back, his delicious adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”

he felt you bob your head up and down slowly on his finger and his head snapped down, eyes widening as he watched you act like a little slut for him, his hands with a mind of their own as he inserted his unoccupied middle finger in your slurping hole.

you let out a muffled gasp through the digit in your mouth and you spread your legs wider, his long and mouthwatering finger pumping in and out of you slowly, satoru’s body literally shivering at the sounds of your warm squelching pussy.

“listen to her baby…” he hummed. “she’s so fucking loud for me… how embarrassing.”

“toruuu,” you whined at his teasing, clamping your legs shut as you felt the tip of his finger hit that sweet spot in your walls that made your toes curl.

“open your legs.” he demanded. “who said you could close them, hm? i sure fucking didn’t.”

satoru picked up the pace and slipped in his ring finger without warning, your walls stretching and filling up as he abused your little cunt rapidly.

“you ever squirted before baby?” he huffed out, lips eating up your neck as you shuddered, your body jolting up and down at how fast he was fingering you.

you shook your head dumbly. “n—no, i don’t think i can—”

satoru laughed and bit your neck meanly. “yes you can sweets, your little pussy was just waiting for me to do it.”

he went even faster, a series of slap slap slap’s filling the car as his palm and digits hit your cunt repeatedly, sticky and soppy as he moaned over and over in your ear, absolutely intoxicated with the sloshing noises of your pussy and the way it was speaking to him, satoru utterly and incandescently obsessed with everything that was you.

“m—my god—” he panted, his pace brutal and animalistic as his long fingers rapidly plunged into your gummy hot hole, his tongue licking and slopping all over the side of your neck, your moans straight up filthy as the windows of his car fogged up.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—” he dragged his mushy kisses from your neck up to your chin and back to your lips. “be my girlfriend—” slap slap slap— “p-please be my girlfriend be my girlfriend i need you so bad i c-can’t live without you anymore—”

you eagerly nodded, your thighs shaking as you gripped his shoulders and tried to keep up with his kisses that swallowed your lips up hole. “y-yes— mph! i will toru i will—”

his car shook violently as he fucked your cunt with his fingers without mercy, an unfamiliar intense feeling bubbling up at the pit of your stomach as he did so, your entire pussy pulsing and swollen as you squealed, massive droplets of liquid spraying all over satoru and the leather seats of his car.

“fuck yes baby, give me what i want that’s it—”

satoru groaned so loudly as you squirted, him jerking his nasty fingers to selfishly get more out of you.

“thaaaats it sweets—” he panted, slowing down. “that’s it.”

you evidently blacked out at this point, your brain misty and distorted as you tried to come down from your delirious high, a high you’ve never ever felt before with your own digits.

satoru licked his fingers raunchily and lowered his face to your pussy, cleaning up any remnants and left over drops on your thighs and pussy with his perverted tongue, your body jerking and you whining again as you shut your thighs closed in overstimulation.

he came back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before flashing you the biggest most innocent smile, as if he didn’t just absolutely destroy your cunt minutes ago without grace.

slowly, you regained a sense of direction and finally looked at him properly as he sat down and pulled you gently up by his arms, your body practically limp as he settled you on his lap and hugged you affectionately, his cheek squished up against your forehead.

“so can you squirt or what.” he teased softly, a smile still on his face.

you giggled shyly and buried your face in his neck. “i made a mess.”

“that’s literally what i wanted don’t even start.” he mumbled, and you laughed again, louder this time.

“were you serious about me being your girlfriend?” you asked suddenly, your voice smaller and timid. satoru pulled back and tilted his head, catching your eyes with his.

“of course i was,” he said quietly. “i literally begged you while my fingers were knuckle deep in—”

you covered your face with your hands and laughed with a whine. “stop! okay okay! i get it.”

you took your face away from his neck and looked at him properly, tilting your head cutely as your eyes shined and sparkled with affection, him giving you the same look back as you leaned up and pecked his lips lovingly.

“you know…” you began. “when we first properly met and you asked me out that night, shoko told me there was a line i had to stand in if i was interested in you.”

satoru snorted, his eyebrows raised. “a line?”

you nodded. “mhm. you literally can’t pretend there isn’t one toru… and lina is in it too,” you finished off, snickering.

he rolled his eyes and huffed, feigning annoyance, but when he looked at you again, he only smiled and stared at you like you hung the moon and stars yourself, a blush to his pale cheeks that never seemed to go away as long as you were around.

“line or not—” he sincerely spoke.

“you’ve always been the first one.”

[gamesetart]

sweet 'n easy

Art thought dating you would be enough. He's content to have your heart, wait until marriage to have your body, too. But it's proving really difficult when you look like that.

tags: art donaldson x fem! reader, open relationship, guided masterbation, reader's kind of messy in this one (corruption), religious themes/corruption of religious themes. nsfw. minors DNI.

a/n: this is part of what im referring to as the open relationship au and im more than expecting to write more about this dynamic! im also very open to suggestions about it

Art Donaldson is a Good Christian Boy. He's a good, smart young man. He wears his thin silver purity ring on his left ring finger. He wears a delicate silver cross on a chain around his neck. He used to sing in the church choir, and now he spends his Sundays volunteering with the children's sector and frequenting church picnics. If it wasn't for tennis, he'd probably be a priest.

You're not right for him, and he knows it. Guys like him aren't made to marry girls like you - girls with low-cut tops that show off the top hem of your lacy electric purple bra. Girls who wear low, low-cut jeans with your matching purple thong hanging out the back. Girls with butterfly-shaped tattoos hovering on your lower back. Girls who spend weekends drinking and clubbing and dancing with absolutely no room for Jesus.

But there's just something about you. Maybe it's your attitude, the way your hand flies up in class whenever you know the answer to a question, the way you speak, with such clarity, such conviction. Maybe it's the way you walk with your friends across campus, beautiful and assertive, a pack of wild hounds. You're terrifying to him. A force of nature, a thunderstorm. Art's managed to get caught up in your jet stream, but it doesn't mean he's any less scared of falling out. You and all your hot, brash, party-girl friends. You and the 'bitch pack', as some of his friends have taken to calling you and yours. The sorority girl, frat party, dim clubs, bitch pack. Girls like you don't give guys like him the time of day: you're too pretty, too powerful, far too high up on an entirely different social ladder.

But you're different. You're sweet. He's watched you stop to pet stray kittens. He's seen you volunteering to donate blood at the campus blood drives. He's seen you stop to help a girl pick up her books even though you were already late to class. He's seen your notes in his biology lecture, your cute, bubbled handwriting and your array of gel pens. He's seen you buy an extra coffee at the campus cafe for a friend. People contain multitudes, or whatever, right?

So maybe it's no surprise when you end up paired up on an assignment and you bring him back to your dorm room. Maybe he shouldn't have been so stunned by the boy band posters and the stacks of fantasy novels and the stuffed bear sitting on your bed. Maybe he shouldn't have been thrown off by your framed pictures - family, friends - and your collection of Beatles CDs. Just a girl. A normal, nice girl. Who lays out all her notes for him, glances up with a sweet smile, and asks,

"Where d'you wanna start?"

He didn't mean for it to go any further than that. For the study visits to start happening at night, after dinner. For you to start blowing off club nights to curl up on your plush blue shag carpet next to art, pointing out lines of text and highlighting things with a bright pink marker. For you to start eating with him at lunch, talking about your lecture, laughing over some stupid thing your professor said or did. For him to start seeing you, really seeing you, and liking that you saw him, too. It happened before he even registered it. Somewhere, somehow, Art Donaldson fell in love.

It's different than how he felt with Tashi. This isn't that painful, all-consuming desire to please, to have her notice him, the obsession with the idea of her and her tennis. This feels sweeter, kinder. This feels like what he used to read about: fireworks in his heartbeat, butterflies in his stomach, the giddy thrill of First Love. A slower, ennobling sort of love.

If he had it his way, he'd date you. Flowers. Expensive dinners by candlelight. Picnics. The works. Court you for the four years you were at Stanford together, then propose once you graduated. Spend a few years engaged so he could do his tennis, make a good amount of his own money. Save until he could plan a dream wedding. Honeymoon somewhere pretty and exotic, like Bali or Punta Cana. Then the country house and the kids, the white picket fence. Except, Art doesn't really ever get things his way, does he?

"I... I don't know," you say slowly, digging your heels into your carpet. You can't meet his sad blue eyes. You can't bear to. Girlfriend. Boyfriend. It feels alien, even in your head.

He stares at you, crestfallen. Your heart plummets and you race for an explanation, for some way to explain this without blaming him. Because it's not Art at fault, it's his Faith.

"It's not that I don't like you!" you scramble. "I do, really, Art, I do. I just... a girl has... needs, you know? There are things I'd want that I can't ask you to give me. Things I can't take from you."

You both know what it is. You'd never ask him to give up on or waver in his faith for you. Never. You like Art how he is. But you know you'd be wanting. You know you can't wait until your wedding night.

"I... I'm just not the dating type, Art," you explain mournfully. "And you don't want to date a girl like me, anyway, trust me. You deserve someone nice."

"But... you are nice," Art says, and he really does look like you've just torn his heart out and stomped on it. It's horrible. It's awful. And you feel like a monster for doing it, but what can you do?

He doesn't have a solution until a full week later. He pretends (to you, and himself) that he came up with it all on his own, when in reality it was Patrick's idea. Patrick's suggestion, murmured over the phone in cloying low tones, luring him in like sailor to siren, bee to honey, moth to flame. Art, for all his cleverness, for all his ability to read Patrick like a book, could not see it. He trusted Patrick. He should have, he's sent Patrick some of your pictures, talked about you endlessly. But Patrick was on tour, far, far away, where he could do no harm. And Patrick was taken, as he was so keen to remind Art all the time.

"She doesn't have to fuck you, man," Patrick muses. "Date her. Be her good boy, be her fuckin' sweetheart. She can get dicked down with someone else."

"You're suggesting my girlfriend cheat on me?" Art laughs, and even saying it, my girlfriend, even in hypothetical, makes his heart do a flip.

He can practically picture Patrick's face, screwed up with a mixture of pity and disdain. Poor Art. "Nah, man. I'm suggesting an open relationship, you know? Let her fuck who she wants, she's gonna come home to you."

The conviction in Patrick's voice makes Art's heart somersault. Because there's something about that idea that makes his pulse quicken. Patrick's right. You'll come home to him, your heart - the thing that really matters - will be his. He doesn't like the possessive thing that curls up in his chest and purrs at the idea. But he doesn't fight it.

"What if you didn't have to wait with me?" Art asks.

He's twirling a highlighter over his fingers. Cross-legged on your plush duvet, working at a piece of spearmint chewing gum. Gum you'd offered him, gum that you now kept a small stash of in your desk drawer for evenings just like this. The project you'd been paired up on was long over, the proud 96% sitting in your Stanford grading inbox. Now you're just regular homework buddies. Art sought you out for homework he missed because he was at practice and lecture notes he didn't get. You don't mind. You enjoy it, actually. You just wish you could give him more. Hate that you couldn't be what he deserved. It almost feels like leading him on, when he sits with you until the wee hours, sharing diagrams and passing your textbook back and forth. When he brings you your morning coffee before class, or you bring sandwiches and Gatorade to his practices.

Except now, apparently, he has a solution.

"What?" you ask, blinking at him. "What d'you mean?"

Art flushes. Soft pink. Mostly around the ears, you've noticed, red against the gentle gold of his curls. Evening rose.

"I mean, what if..." he looks away. "You know. You went out with me. Dated me. But you could... 'hook up' with other people when you needed to."

You stare at him. Dumbfounded. Art Donaldson. Is sitting on your bed, asking you for an open relationship? Are you dreaming? Has the world suddenly gone mad? Did you go to bed last night and wake up in an alternate dimesion?

"You... are you suggesting... what I think you're suggesting?" you ask faintly.

He nods, ears burning a truly impressive shade of crimson. You suppose you should be flattered, really, the lengths he's going to date you. Most guys would have given up by now, egos bruised, feelings hurt, hearts shattered. And with most guys, you would have been firmer, clearer, colder. Meaner. But Art isn't most guys. Art is sweet.

"I-- shit, Art, wouldn't you rather just date some other girl like you?" you say helplessly.

"I don't want another girl, I want you," he replies plainly. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like there's no other answer.

And that's all it takes for you to agree. It's impossible to say no to those baby doll eyes. The two of you set ground rules - you don't tell him who or where or how, just that it happened. He doesn't ask you any questions. No one leaves you any marks. Immediate friends, such as Art's tennis circle and his church friends, are off limits. And that's that. He's your boyfriend now.

Art thought it would suffice. He likes being with you. Holding your hand while you walk to class. Seeing you in the stands when he plays a match. Chaste little pecks here and there. But you're like a pit of quicksand, a hurricane. You draw him in quicker than he thought possible, and now he can't breathe, can't think, can't move. The corruption is slow, certain, and inescapable.

He starts to find himself wanting more.

A kiss in his dorm room that deepens instead of stops, one hand cupping your jaw, the other floating to rest on the small of your back, above the waist of your low jeans, on the warm, bare skin there. A glance that feels more than affectionate, his eyes roving over your collarbone, the glint of your skin in the sun, the line of your bra beneath your sheer, tight shirt. He sees you smile at another guy and a hot flash of jealousy surges through him as he wonders if this is one of the guys you're fucking, if that guy, that random piece of shit, gets to touch you, see you, feel you. He tamps it down, and it feels too little, too late.

You'd be a fool not to notice. Stupid, not to feel the press of his hard-on when he hugs you from behind. Not to sense the shift in the way he kisses you, tongue slipping past your lips, hands sliding down further than they usually do. He plays it off, always. An accident. The heat of the moment. But you know. And because you're weak, because you're a terrible person, because ruining Art Donaldson is the most beautiful thing to ever happen to you, you let him.

"Art, do you ever touch yourself?"

He falls off his chair in his hurry to spin around and look at you. From the floor of your dorm, he stares with wide blue eyes and pink cheeks. "Wha--"

You shrug. "You know. Do you ever..." you make a crude gesture with your hand, and he buries his face up to his nose in his collar.

"No," he says, muffled into his tee shirt. "It's sinful."

It takes every fibre of your being not to laugh. He's so precious, so pure, sometimes you wonder why a guy like him could ever be interested in you at all. Your looks are one thing - you know you're hot. But Art likes you. He likes you even when he can't fuck you. He liked you even when you told him you wouldn't date him. He likes you because you're you. Which makes you feel a little shitty about what you do next, but you can't help it.

"So, what, when you're hard, what do you do?" you press casually. "Send up a Hail Mary and wait?"

Art's ears, which peek out over his shirt collar, are so red they could have been on fire. He shakes his head, a little frantically. He flushes easily, you notice, blood flowing quickly whenever he's even mildly embarrassed. It conjures images of his cock, whatever it might look like, red and aching with need. And you feel a lot less bad, the mental image of Art's dick fuelling the way you lean over, sliding off your chair to join him on the floor. You kneel, hands resting on your knees, and you know he's getting an eyeful of your tits. You keep your eyes on his face.

"Show me," you murmur. "I won't touch you. I won't even touch myself. I just wanna see."

He stares at you like you've asked him for his social security number and all his credit card info. Which, honestly, he probably would have given up a little easier. And you're an awful person, because you know the effect you've had on him, especially these days, you know that Art will probably do anything you ask of him, just for the pleasure of pleasing you.

"Please?" you wheedle, cocking your head to one side lightly, staring up at him through your lashes.

And, really, how could he say no to that?

"I-- okay," he says, and he tries to pretend like he's relenting a lot more than he actually is. Pretends like he's doing you a huge favour, as if his cock isn't straining at the mere idea.

Art doesn't jerk off often. He's only ever used his hand once - the single time Patrick showed him. After that, he'd cried in the bathroom and washed his hands so many times he got a contact allergy. But he's figured out an alternative. One that doesn't involve him touching himself at all. So he slides off his sweats, all too aware of your steady eyes on him. You look at him like you've never seen legs before, as if you haven't seen him at a thousand practices. You look at him like you want to eat him.

He tries to tell himself that's not what's making his cock throb in his boxers. He keeps those on, more for his sake than yours.

"You can lie on my bed," you offer innocently.

Art almost moans. Because it's your bed. Because it's yours, and when he lies down it's almost like lying with you. When he buries his face in the pillow, he can smell you, your vanilla and roses body wash, and, beneath it, the gentle smell of you. It's your sheets he starts to cant into, hips rolling in a familiar motion as he starts to work away the desperate pressure in his cock. It's your pillow he bites in a futile attempt to muffle his moans. And when he looks up, eyes half-lidded, he can see you watching him. You're biting your lip, looking flustered, and it's the cutest he's ever seen you, and he moans your name without meaning you.

You keep your promise, hands folded neatly in you lap as you watch Art rut into your bed like a wild animal, like he's in fucking heat, like your sheets are a person and he's fucking it. Like your sheets are you, you realise, as his eyes meet yours and he whines your name. He's pretending he's fucking you. It's hard not to give up and shove one hand into your panties, but for his sake, you try. Art's moans are almost musical, and with a sharp slap of embarrassment, you're reminded of the sounds he makes when he hits the ball at practice. The same whining grunts of exertion, except now they're fuelled by pleasure, spurred on by the desperate grind of his hips into your sheets, not a fucking tennis ball.

"Oh, oh, fuck," Art's voice gets a little higher. "Oh, fuck, it's so good--"

You can feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you shift slightly. His movements grow a little more erratic, hands balling up into white-knuckled fists into the soft fabric of your sheets. You drink it all in while you can - his ears are red, his cheeks are pink. You follow the curve of his ass in his boxers. You stare at the muscles in his thighs. The bones of his hips.

Art gets breathy when he's about to cum. Breathy, very whiny, almost crying if you're being honest. You file that information away for later.

"Please, please, can I?" he gasps, staring up at you with pupils blown wide with lust. "Can I cum, please, fuck, need it, need it-- you-- fuck, please?"

It's surprising he can even string together a full sentence. "Of course, baby," you murmur, already resolved to not changing your sheets until after you've cum in them too.

Another nugget of information: Art favours a deep grind when he cums, like he's looking for a place to put it, to bury it, looking to breed, to mark, to keep. The sight of him pushing his hips as far into your mattress as he can before he cums, a cry of your name and a shuddering breath slipping from his lips, will probably fuel your nighttime ventures for the next few weeks. You'll use it when you find your next hook up, it'll probably send you right over the edge.

You don't know when you started thinking of Art while you fucked other guys. You just know that now, it's tricky to get off without it. It's hard enough biting your tongue so you avoid saying his name. Now, you'll have the image of his face when he cums locked in your brain forever.

"Shit," Art curses, still breathless, sitting up to examine the sticky mess soaking from the front of his gingham boxers, all the way into your sheets. "Sorry."

You just shake your head. "Don't worry about it. That was... really hot. That's actually how you get yourself off?"

He nods, embarrassed. When he shuffles off to shower, borrowing your shower caddy and a towel, you wait until your door click, and then you practically rip open your nightstand. It takes less than ten minutes with a vibrator and the memory of Art's voice moaning your name for you to add your cum to his. You imagine his hips fucking into you, not your sheets. You imagine pulling his stupid fucking purity ring off and wearing it like some fucked-up engagement ring. His hands are so big, you'd probably have to wear it on your thumb. His hands. You imagine them grabbing you, holding you, sliding up your skin. You wonder what it would be like to have him revere you, not his God. Worship you. You want him to, you think. The idea of him shattering every promise he's ever made, just to be inside you? It sends you over the edge with a muffled cry of his name.

It's that feeling, that messy need for him, that drives you to that frat party. You told him, obviously, and while he seemed sort of put-off when you mentioned you were probably going to sleep with someone, he told you it was okay. Told you to be safe.

You wish you could tell him, but you're worried it'll scare him off. Don't worry, Art, every guy I fuck, I pretend he's you. And now I'll have the knowledge of exactly what you look and sound like when you cum to help me out! Not exactly girlfriend material.

Still, you're thinking of Art when your eyes land on a boy playing beer pong. He's tall, all messy black curls and tanned skin. Handsome, too, if you're being honest, in a messy, frat boy-y kind of way. Hook up hot. You're thinking of Art when he waves you over, holding up a beer like it's a peace offering. You're thinking of Art when you give him your name and ask for his.

"Patrick," he tells you easily. "Patrick Zweig."

[mistrustmusic]

Playing Live (Again)

Hello Dear Reader! I performed my music live for the first time in over five years last week! Last week (Thursday March 16th, 2023), I played live at the Bradford Electronic Music Open Mic (EMOM) event, which was held at Sally Brown’s Live Music Cafe in Bradford, United Kingdom. Watch a recording of me playing live at the Bradford Electronic Music Open Mic (EMOM) event here on Youtube: Video…

[oceantornadoo]

you: an absolute teeth-aching bone deep want to be loved and to give love. that hollow feeling behind your chest is too familiar and you want it gone. you just want to be in love, to treat someone with gentleness and to be wanted.

your 141 bae who has been in love with you since the moment he met you: ...i'm right here

gn!reader headcanons below the cut:

childhood best friend simon: let's say you knew him before he lost his family. a scrawny-limbed blond, always willing to extend a trip to the park or a cigarette behind school - anything to not go home. you'd visit him when he started part-time as a butcher in high school, wrinkling your nose at the smell of bloody meat but staying anyways, doing your homework at the singular table in the shop. he was there when you moved away from town, for college or a new job or any life-altering decision that he was secondary to, something simon could only hope to grasp. once he leaves for the military, you mourn your relationship and move on. simon is a blur in your mind, a reminder of snow days and sweet tea summers and leaf piles and dandelion picking, on a nostalgic shelf in the untouched corners of your brain. ten years later, you've finally made a name for yourself and truly gotten out; grown roots. but you still have this soul-deep yearning, some unfamiliar-shaped hole in your chest that miraculously fills when you open your door to simon, a grown man who's tired of wanting you from afar. tired of stalking your social media and writing fantasies in his head. tired of picking people to fuck just because they look like you, then going soft halfway through because their voice isn't the right pitch. he's here, and he's ready to do whatever it takes.

best friend gaz: now this is different from a childhood best friend, so keep that in mind. gaz is always this guy-next-door type with a panty-dropping smile and impeccable manners. this notion does him some good, helps him avoid some deep-rooted british military prejudices, but it also turns you away. you check him off as nice and place him in the best friend box. you don't understand how he tracks your every move on a mission, almost always getting caught by johnny or price. you miss how he grips his pint ten times harder when he sees you on the pub floor, dancing with some stranger whose hands are a bit too low. he tells you he gets rejected for being "too nice", but really, he ignores his 27 unread DMs and flirty cafe eye contact in favor of movie nights, prank wars, your shitty reality shows. he's grasping onto straws, can't you see sweetheart? when you're drunk and turn into a cuddler, he can pretend just for a second that you truly mean it. gaz lets your hands wander under his shirt, lets you murmur your darkest fear of never being loved into the quietness of your room, leaving you to sleep on top of your covers with a kiss to the forehead. he doesn't know what's pushed him over: you almost dying on that last mission, you making out with a stranger in a bar, you you you in those pants and that shirt and that's it. he has to say something. has to put it all on the line because gaz can't live like this anymore.

best friend's brother price: it was some one-sided crush, your best friend's brother with his suave teenage ways as compared to your brutal tween phase, acne and braces on the way. it had dissipated quickly, john never the wiser, his presence substituted with trendy band obsessions and first kisses. instead, it happened at your best friend's wedding. you were both in the wedding party, some object of fate throwing you together as your best friend forced you two to dance. you were tipsy on champagne, on the happiness of marriage, that you giddily admitted your fleeting childhood crush and how much john had grown since then. and that was it. john was always going to settle down, always going to have a pretty thing waiting for him back home, he just didn't figure out until right now that it would be you. he tries to hide his affections under friendliness, not wanting to ruin your friendship with his sibling, but john has never been discrete. he's suddenly invading your life with offers of fixing your kitchen sink, painting that one spot you can't reach, moving your couch to fit your latest pinterest board. you're practically family, love - which kills all your hopes for something more, feeling like a familyzone. but john means it differently, means you're predestined to be his, already accepted and loved by his loved ones and how could he not see it before? you refuse to accept his kindness and it absolutely kills him, so he scares off potential dates and any chance of meet-cutes with an arm around your waist and why can't you see him the way he sees you?

friends with benefits johnny: it was just sex, right? you'd been the one to say it, the one to set that boundary with your fellow sergeant. you didn't think johnny was capable of more, mistaking his cheeky smirks and booming laugh for being unserious, when in reality, johnny is as serious as it gets. he tells himself he can fuck you because he'll marry you one day, that cross sitting heavy under his shirts. he doesn't wash his sheets for weeks after that first fuck, too busy inhaling the scent of you cumming around his mouth, his cock. that is, until, you tell him his sheets stink and refuse to fuck him and he pretends you're having an argument as a married couple, all intimate and bored. johnny sees a recruit getting too flirty and pulls you into a supply closet using his best distraction methods. he sways you from joining a month's long solo mission, some stupid excuse about missing your lips too much when really he knows it's a suicide mission. johnny forces you to stay over after a midnight fuck, some bullshit about simon being up at that time and seeing you in the hallway on base. in reality, he treasures cuddling you with his brawny arms, pretending you're his willingly. pretending he's made peace with you, this wild creature, never tamed but understood. he can't force himself to ask for more, too scared to lose the crumbs he's holding onto. johnny tries to hide it with a fiery personality and a thick accent, but inside? he's a complete goner.

[nekomanager]

SORRY, THERE'S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT ♡ AKAASHI KEIJI

due to unfortunate circumstances you have no other choice but to spend the night, sharing the same room with your charming editor AKAASHI KEIJI

f!reader, pwp, deep penetration, fingering, breast sucking, orgsm delay, cunnilings, mirror sex

“I deeply apologize. We're fully booked for tonight. We only have one room left.”

Tough luck. Now, you’re stuck in a hotel room with a man overnight. It was not just a man, it's your longtime crush and editor, Akaashi Keiji.

Your fingers fumbled as you tried to process everything in your brain.

All of this wasn’t supposed to happen to you. It was his ordinary house visit asking you about the plot of your new work when he suddenly invited you to one of the places in your story for "inspiration".

Talk about being lucky. Akaashi had been working with you for years now. Your admiration for him grew as he was the only man who listens to you ramble about your plots and actually gives his serious and constructive thoughts about them. He's intelligent, attentive and respectful. It's truly admirable.

Add to that, he was charming as hell. Well, his eyes were wistful and lips, peachy. He always reached his hand out for you to shake and you swore you felt nervous every time without fail.

Just when you thought everything would stop with him being so good-looking and fine, you’re wrong. Just a while ago, he opened the cafe door for you as you headed out. He had manners too. He was every man straight out of fiction!

Good grief. He also smelled like olive essence that you wanted to bury your face into his chest. You were sure that time stopped during that moment.

The snow fell hard and the train stopped their operations. Finding a cab home was also impossible. You had no choice but to stay at the nearby love hotel. A love hotel! How ridiculous. An even silly catch was you had to endure sharing it Akaashi.

You sighed, staring at the mirror of your shared room's ceiling. You blushed. We all know what's this for. This is ridiculous!

Donning only the white oversized shirt you got from the vending machine and the disposable panties from the vanity kit, you laid down in bed freshly-bathed, and inspected the buttons at the side table. You were amazed when the light changed different colors from blue to pink. Leaving it there, you pressed a button that made the bed bounce. You panicked and wanted it to stop, but you only increased the speed more which threw you off the bed.

“Ow!" You stumbled on the floor with your lower-half hitting the edge of the bedside table, wounding the back of your left upper-thigh.

“What happened?” Akaashi rushed out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel around his waist with his hair still dripping. Even though you’re in slight sting, you didn’t miss how perfectly toned his abs were as the droplets fell over them.

“I-I’m okay. I just fell out of bed," you said, avoiding to look at his body.

He went beside you and slid an arm behind your knees, carrying you back to bed. Your insides clenched at how your cheek was pressed close to his still drenched chest. The heat of his skin making you hot in the lower region of your body.

Once he laid you down, you shifted a little and a pained expression left you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah, I guess I just have a little wound.”

Akaashi stood up and went to where he placed his bag, fetching a brown pouch. He brought the item over and pulled out a band-aid. “Where is it?”

You turned your body sideways and lifted your oversized shirt, revealing the small wound at the back of your upper thigh just near below your ass. You were just wearing panties and you knew that so well, but somehow...Maybe you could look a little charming for him too.

Oh, Akaashi sure knew how your charm was working him real bad. You were smart, quirky and witty. You're wonderful. You piqued his curiosity most of the time and he always thought you're cute.

He swallowed dryly. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. He could just give you the band-aid and let you tend to your own wound, but you're too adorable to resist and the pull of his dick was clouding up his judgment; not to mention the sight of your fleshy thigh before him and that smooth skin was inviting him to come over.

So he did.

He took out the band-aid from its seal and carefully covered your wound.

His light touch and breathing fanned your sensitive skin—it was hot and a little ticklish, sending down tingles in between your legs. His eyes met yours and you held his gaze.

Both of you were panting.

Anticipating.

His stare didn’t leave you as he planted open-mouthed kiss on your thigh. You closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth. Your reaction signaling him that you wanted it too. He kissed even lower, leaving little marks on your thigh as he sucked on your flesh.

The moment he reached your knees, he parted them and got himself in between.

He leaned down and kissed you, tasting and sucking your lips. His hands skimming under your shirt, pulling it up off of you.

Damn!

He felt his cock harden at the contact of your erect nipple against his chest. Hungry for them, his lips traveled down your neck, your collarbone and stopped at one of your nipples. He sucked and twirled his tongue around it and you squirmed under his weight, a wanting moan went out of your lips.

As if sensing your need, he slipped a hand under your panties. The pad of his three fingers flat on your pussy, massaging it with the right kind of pressure. Hearing your heavy breathing was getting him more excited. Your arousal drenching his fingers, tempting him to slip one in.

“Mhmn!”

That just made him add another one in. His mouth transferred to your other nipple and your fingers all tangled in the strands of his hair. Your head felt light. His tongue on your breast and fingers inside your cunt were in the same tempo. Slow, sensuous and torturous. You wanted more and more of him.

You couldn't reason with yourself anymore, begging the man whom you had a totally professional relationship until now. “Please…” You whimpered.

Akaashi looked upon you. That helpless look on your face ain't helping at all, it made him want you even more. He really wanted to take this slow but you’re making it hard for him. You’re making him too hard.

Unlatching your breast, he captured your lips next, removing his fingers from your pussy. Your hips slightly buckled up, missing his touch.

Getting lost in his tender kisses, your wetness dripped out from your slit. He parted from you and you let out an involuntary moan of complain. That made made him smile sweetly at you.

Shit! Did that make you bite your lower lip. Everything this man did was be pretty and sexy as hell. He stood up and…

Wait- Was that it? You felt a pang of disappointment, until you yelped!

He pulled you at the edge of the bed by the waist. It was abrupt but still very gentle. Your legs were splayed down, while only your upper-body was lying on the mattress. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said. You gave him a questioning look and he leaned forward to kiss your forehead, “Your wound.”

He took hold of your gaze. You got lost in them that you didn’t notice him sheath himself. He watched your eyes widen as he slid his cock inside you. Shit. He’s hot. He felt so hot. He draped your right leg up his shoulder. Reflexively, you wrapped your left leg around his waist.

You really thought he was gonna fuck you fast. The way he’s already throbbing inside you made you think so, but you were wrong.

Akaashi was sliding out of you slowly, making you feel every inch of his long cock just to slam hard and deep right back in. Your eyes almost closed each time he’s hitting it deep. It was relentless.

Thrust. He couldn't believe that he'd be having sex with the girl of his dreams tonight. But hell! Who gives a damn! Thrust. He'd been sticking by the rules all this time. Maybe, he should try to live for once and fuck! Thrust! You felt so good, he could have you 'til tomorrow. Yes, just for tonight, the only one he'd be reining in would be you.

“Ohhh, ahh…” You couldn’t even control the pace. His silent and gentle command showed on his knitted brows. His cheeks were flushed, jaw clenched as a light droplet of sweat crawled down the side of his face. Damn! He’s so goddamn sexy.

You bit your moans, looking up at the mirror on the ceiling. You watched as he fucked you slowly but hardly. His cock sliding in and out of you while his ass clenched every time he was slamming balls deep into your pussy. The impact everytime he rammed in was making your breasts bounce lasciviously.

Despite his slow tempo, he’s going in hard and heavy that his balls slapping onto your ass was audible in the entire room, drowning your pathetic moans. It felt so good. So good that you wanted more.

"Akaa...Akaa...mhmn~"

You’re always so close to coming with him penetrating so deep, but him sliding out so slowly was delaying your orgasm. You felt it. Growing and building hot inside you. Your pussy was throbbing so bad and you whimpered to him helplessly.

He knew he could still go for far long but seeing you plead for your release, he couldn’t help but satisfy your need.

“Come here.” Akaashi ordered in that gentle but commanding manner. He let go of your leg on his shoulder and you followed his order without any complain, lifting your body and lacing your fingers together at the back of his head. “Hold on tight.” He whispered as his strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place.

“Ah!” You gasped as he fucked you surprisingly fast this time with the same depth and impact. “Ahhh! Oh my god! Shit! Ahhh…”

He grunted through clenched teeth as he pounded you hard. Fuck! Fuck! Y/N fuck!

Three pumps and you leaned your head back, mouth open, orgasming like you never had before. The feeling of not being able to release for a prolonged time then letting it all out made you feel like you’ve seen heaven. It felt so amazing that you’re still trembling around him.

Akaashi kissed your forehead; with his cock still hard inside you, he lifted you up. You weakly hugged him tight in return.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He brought you to the bathroom and dipped your connected bodies in the jacuzzi. He unlatched from you, retrieving his cock. Him sliding out got you almost close to coming again, still feeling the pleasure in your pussy.

You looked in between you and watched as he removed the used condom. He didn’t cum! And he’s still erect and rock hard. How’s that-

His lips found yours again and you instinctively wound your arms around him.

“Do you have anywhere else to go to tomorrow?” He asked with a voice so sweet. The way he’s so gentle yet disciplined was crazy attractive.

“No, I have nowhere else to go.” You answered limply.

“We have all night then.” He lifted you up and seated you at the edge of the tub, so his face was just right in front of your pussy. “Feet up.”

And you lifted them on the tiles, opening wide for him. His index and middle fingers rubbed your pussy, making you moan, “Aka-“

He stopped, looked back to you and demanded, “Keiji.” He inserted his two fingers in. Your head lulled back, foolishly repeating his name over your head. You’re sure you’d be screaming it for the entire night. The moment his tongue finally touched your pussy, another wave of orgasm hit you. Right there, you knew you’d be extending your stay.

© sir-kuroo 2024 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[icydrinkz]

“HEY EMO BOY!”

Headcanon’s/Story

F!Reader x HotTopicWorker!Choso

WARNINGS - MDNI: F! fingering, squirting, afab reader, pinv (unprotected), creampie, perv choso, rough sex, dom!Choso, public sex (f! receiving), fluff, happy ending. PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED ANY!!

Note: THOUHT I MIGHT TRY SOMETHING NEWWW..I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS AND PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT MOREE! (Why was this easier to do than a SMAU for me 😐) oh and also this is my first time writing stuff like this so please give me some feedback!

♪───Ｏ（≧∇≦）Ｏ────♪

HotTopicWorker!Choso who thought that you were drop dead gorgeous as you asked him where the MCR shirts were as he was restocking inventory, even tho they had a big MCR section right in front … but he didn’t mind helping you!

HotTopicWorker!Choso who chuckled to himself at your comment on his Green Day shirt, saying that you thought it was an awesome band, thinking you were cute for messing up your words trying to compliment him.

HotTopicWorker!Choso who feels sad and lonely when you leave the store after he helped you, helping out other customers, none with the same effect as you had on him, hoping by some luck he sees you again

HotTopicWorker!Choso who was overly joyed when he saw your beautiful face walk into the store a week later, seeing that you were wearing the MCR shirt he helped you pick out made his heart flutter

HotTopicWorker!Choso who was happy when you remembered him, starting to make small talk with him about your week as he tries to listen to you but is to distracted by your lips and the way they move when you talk

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is speechless when you give him your phone number and name before you leave the store, making his heart flutter even more, making sure he puts your number in his phone and texts you right away

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is getting ready for bed as you texted him back when he was brushing his teeth, ending up pulling a all nighter texting you about randomness, forgetting that he has to get up and work tomorrow but it’s all worth it when you ask him to hangout outside the mall after his shift this weekend

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is finishing up his shift at hot topic as he sees you walk in, looking even more beautiful then ever just for him and yours walk in the park “hangout”, not knowing how a loser like him could have gotten a date with someone so beautiful as yourself

HotTopicWorker!Choso who’s palms get really sweaty when you guy are holding hands while walking in the park together, being extremely nervous, but all the nervous thoughts go away once you point out a cafe you wanted to go into with him

HotTopicWorker!Choso who’s face goes red as a tomato when you kiss him at the end of your guys date, your lips being so soft against his rough, eaten up ones, even after you pulled away he could still taste you in his mouth, waiting more but to afraid to ask

HotTopicWorker!Choso who doesn’t care if its perverted if he fucks his fist late at night to the memory of your lips on his, thinking about what they would feel wrapped around his loser cock, finishing in his fist as he texts you with one hand if you wanted to come to work with him tomorrow

HotTopicWorker!Choso who as soon as you sent him a text back saying “Sure why not?” with a little smiley face at the end, he was already thinking about all the possible ways he could make you cum in the break room

HotTopicWorker!Choso who had a big smile on his face as he let you walk into the mall next to him, early enough for him to get the store set up, letting you sit around the store as he worked his shift until his break time came up

HotTopicWorker!Choso who had you pinned against the wall, in the middle of a heated make out session, his pants getting impossibly tighter in his back skinny jeans as you begin to touch all over his body with your soft fingertips

HotTopicWorker!Choso who only has 15 minutes left of his break time but bets he can make you cum in 5, he say as he begins to finger you roughly, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you moan in pleasure, telling him to not stop

HotTopicWorker!Choso who if he wants to win this bet only has 3 minutes left, he starts to finger you faster, not wanting to be called a loser as he already as been called many times before, not waiting to hear it from you, he feels you clench around him, your gummy walls sucking up his fingers, making his dick twitch in his pants

HotTopicWorker!Choso who has you squirting around his fingers with 1 minute to spare, meaning he won but he still has 11 minutes left of his break, deciding to lick your slick clean off his fingers and he starts undoing his belt

HotTopicWorker!Choso who knows he has a big cock and loves seeing you whine when he starts thrusting himself slowly in from the behind, you saying a mix of “oh my god choso!” And “F-fuck choso you’re so big..” making him wanna fuck you even faster

HotTopicWorker!Choso who starts thrusting faster inside of you, loving the way your moans and whimpers sound like when your close, thinking they are probably the best sounds he’s ever heard and that’s a lot coming from a hot topic employee that loves listening to different kinds of music

HotTopicWorker!Choso who has you cumming around his cock in no time, your gummy walls squeezing him for all he’s worth, he ends up cumming inside you with a loud grunt, apologizing shortly after he did so without a condom saying that you were making it hard for him not to

HotTopicWorker!Choso who cleans you up with 2 minutes left of his break and makes sure you’re okay before he goes back to working, apologizing that he couldn’t do proper aftercare in his time crunch, hoping you didn’t believe he was a terrible person

HotTopicWorker!Choso whose shift is ending in a few short minutes, seeing you walk out of the break room, dressed in some random clothes you found in the back, him still thinking you look as beautiful as ever

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is over joyed when you ask him nervously to be your boyfriend on a random date you guys went on and who is he to say no? Of course he said yes! He loved you so much, no words could ever describe it

HotTopicWorker!Choso who is happy with his life with you, he ends up getting you a job at Hot Topic together! And oh boy is he glad that a few months ago you asked where the MCR section was even though it was right there when you walked in, Now thinking maybe you did it on purpose

I really hope this doesn’t flop 😖🙏

[logansdoll]

begging for more dad logan please

406

Logan was always one to mind his own business, never really sticking his nose in anything unless it directly concerned him... until he heard your screams coming from next door.

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after Deadpool 3, heavy subjects, domestic abuse, more Logan interacting with kids (or rather kid), angst with comfort, etc.

If you or a loved one are experiencing domestic abuse, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline (US) at 800-799-7233 for twenty-four hour assistance. Your voice matters <3

"Jesus-fuckin'-Christ," Logan groaned, throwing his forearm over his eyes as the loud, stumbling sound of your husband's work boots slithered through the walls.

'It's two in the goddamn morning...'

Audibly, the man bumped into a table, letting out a loud string of curses before kicking off his shoes, sending them flying into a shelf with two thumps.

No doubt making another mess for you to clean up.

Logan couldn't wrap his around someone like you ending up with an asshole like your husband.

Despite the countless other people on his floor, you were the first to greet Logan when he moved in—a pretty little thing standing in his doorway with a plate of cookies, a warm smile, and a boy no older than five clinging to her leg.

"Hi!" you greeted, instantly clocking the taut expression on his face. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your unpacking..."

"S'fine," he nodded for you to go on, rubbing the sleep out his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, purposefully blocking his messy bed from your view.

He was napping, actually.

"I just wanted to introduce myself since you're new to the floor. And bring you a little something to say we're glad to have you," you went on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Carefully, you held out the plate for him to take, the man examining at it with a suspicious eye.

"I'm (y/n), and this is my son, Caleb. We're your neighbors in 406."

Wary, but still wanting to be polite, he took the tray, eyes flitting down to the boy at your leg—the poor thing cowering further behind you under the man's sharp gaze.

You let out a small laugh, softly resting your hand in his curly hair, "He's a little shy."

Glancing back up at you, Logan's eyes suddenly locked onto the clutter of band-aids around your wrist, their formation... odd.

"What's with all the bandages?" he asked, bluntly.

Your face fell for a fraction of a second, though you quickly replaced your smile, waving him off.

"Oh, just a little kitchen accident. I can be a bit clumsy," you assured, your tone a little more distant than before.

Something in his gut told him that wasn't right.

But it was none of his business, so he dropped it, focusing his energy on the fact that you seemed to be an angel in human form, and the most persistent woman he'd ever met.

You worked as a baker at a local cafe, and often brought him leftovers or samples to eat, along with some of your own creations.

And despite his less-than-warm personality during the early days, you still kept at it; always greeting him with a warm smile and kind words.

It wasn't long before your son joined in as well, bringing over some of his comics for the two to read together on occasion.

Though not as much as a talker as you, he was still just as gentle, resting a quiet head on Logan's side as the man flatly read the latest Superman issue.

But it was when your husband would come around that things would become an issue.

Logan could hear your voice bleed through the drywall, groggily confronting the man—the words "Caleb", "Awake", and "School Tomorrow" seeming to push through the muffle.

Surprisingly, Logan had never met your husband before, the man leaving super early in the morning for work, and coming home inappropriately late at night.

And on weekends he just... wasn't around.

It was only times like this that Logan would remember he even existed.

And in that moment, he must've said something awful, because suddenly your voice was rising, becoming sharper and harsher.

'Fuckin' bastard...'

On those few off-occasions where you slipped up—missed a band-aid, wore too short of a sleeve—Logan noticed the marks.

A bruise here... a red mark there... the faint scent of peroxide.

Yet despite his frequent (frequent) questions, you seemed to always have an excuse.

Little mishap at the cafe...

I tripped over one of Caleb's toys...

Had a little trouble down the stairs...

He didn't like it one bit.

Despite your marital status, Logan felt a certain warmth bubble in his chest at the sight of you, and often found himself rereading the notes you'd leave along with the food.

And although he wasn't ready to put a name to the emotion yet, he did, however, feel a sort of innate obligation toward you and your son.

One that seemed to be coming into effect right now...

"Don't yell at Mommy!" Caleb shouted, his voice followed by the scurry of small feet.

'The hell?'

Logan quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, brows furrowing as he quickly sat up in bed.

That was the loudest he had ever heard the kid speak.

"Caleb, no! What did I tell you? Get back in bed! Mommy will be there soon!" you frantically ordered.

"What'd that little shit just say to me?!" your husband slurred, loudly, the sharp creak of the floorboard making it sound like he was lunging forward.

And with a harsh slap, followed the shattering of glass, large feet seeming to stutter backward.

"DON'T YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HIM!" you barked, fiercely.

"You bitch!" he fired back, a large crash following.

"MOMMY!" Caleb screamed.

Logan had never thrown on a pair of jeans so fast.

He was in front of your door like magic, kicking it open with ease, eyes widening at the sight before him.

Your husband was on top of you, squeezing harshly around your neck as you vigorously fought back, Caleb frantically tugging at his father's shirt to get him off.

Quickly, Logan ran over, grabbing the bastard and tossing him over his shoulder, sending him flying across the room.

You gasped for air, Caleb fighting through sobs as he scrambled into your lap, burying his face into your chest and clutching onto your shirt for dear life.

Motherly instinct kicking in, you were quick to lift his chin, disregarding your own injuries as you checked his face, eyes watering at the bright red splotch settling on the boy's cheek.

"Oh, baby," you sniffled, burying your face in his hair and you held him close. "I'm so sorry."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Logan was absolutely going to town.

He didn't use his claws, because—as badly as he wanted to—he wasn't about to murder a man in front of his wife and child.

But that didn't mean he couldn't give the bastard a classic adamantium-boned beat down.

Slam after slam after slam, Logan didn't stop, clutching the collar of the man's jacket tightly as he made ground meat of his face.

Even as a tooth flew... even as his eye swelled shut... even as his nose crunched.

Logan only stopped went he went limp, letting the bastard drop to the ground with a thud before turning back to you two.

Slowly, and warily, he approached, not wanting to frighten you or the kid more than you already were.

He figured he looked pretty scary—blood covering his knuckles, panting, unconscious man laying in his wake.

But, to his surprise, it was actually quite the opposite.

The moment he knelt down to your level, the two of you threw your arms around him, pulling the man into a silent bear hug.

His breath hitched, not at all expecting the reaction, but he hugged back anyway, pulling you both in closer.

Caleb buried his face into Logan's side, wrapping his arms around the man's torso to the best of his little ability.

You rested your head on his shoulder, nose bloody and neck bruised as you melted against him, your hands resting softly against his bare chest.

Like a spotty drizzle, he felt a few stray tears land on his collarbone, forcing him to turn to their source, only to see you look up at him with your beautiful eyes, all glassy with relief.

'Fuck...'

How could a heart be struck with both warmth and ice at the same time?

Though, despite what he originally thought, you actually cracked a small, thankful smile, only able to muster two steady words:

"Thank you."

taglist !!

@catiwinky @seamlessepiphany @vinaluvsu @kellyxo1 @amandarobertsboyce  @captainloki1 @qveendiorsworld @sarahskywalker-amidala @mei-simp @oatmilkriver @br3nt-12 @bimboshaggy @lightsgore @edszn @couturewinx @sunroxic @notanotheroldman @bontensbabygirl @buckleysg1rl @marvelgirlie-4 @eljaynosine-triphosphate @nickf1 @pinkisokay @mercurysjoy @jetelaisseraidesmots-toujours

[transmascsteveharrington]

Eddie takes the same train every day. It's in the far too early hours of the morning, dawn barely painting the city in a glowing coat of rust. The people on the platform next to him cling to the coffee in their travel mugs the same way sleep still clings to their lashes. They're tired, but not the bone-shattering tired I just finished a 10-hour bar shift that pushes down on Eddie's aching shoulder blades. The people on the platform are going to work, Eddie is going home.

His feet hurt, his hands reek of vodka and redbull, his ears ring from the loud music that played all night long and his voice is hoarse from shouting over it to be heard. But he doesn't care as he gets onto the train and sinks into a semi-comfy seat. Because while his job is alright bordering on fun most nights, it's the best job in the world when Thursday slowly trickles into Friday. Because on Thursday nights in the Hideout Eddie does not just serve drinks and flirts until the tip jar is bursting, no on Thursdays he gets to perform up on stage. It's an agreement with the owner, who has a soft spot for Eddie and his band and they have recently started to draw a crowd which helps too. So today Eddie doesn't mind the sleepless night.

He suppresses a yawn and rubs his eyes, smudging the traces of eyeliner left on his face even worse. It's when he lowers his hands, stars dancing in the corner of his eyes from the pressure, and leans his head against the cool window of the train that Eddie sees him. The prettiest man he's ever laid eyes on. Seriously how can someone be this attractive? Light brown hair that manages to be untamed and yet perfectly styled, tanned skin covered in so many freckles Eddie can feel himself salivate. And then there are his eyes. Liquid gold, glowing amber, honey in the sun and whiskey by candlelight.

It's not the first time Eddie has fallen deeply in love with a stranger on the subway and he doubts it's going to be the last time. But it's the most he has ever been enraptured. The outfit the guy wears is nothing exciting to write home about. Grey coat covering a blue suit typical corporate style. Nothing exciting, not even a fun tie. Eddie couldn't care less about the clothes though (unless they were on his bedroom floor).

He just watches the guys magnetizing eyes go back and forth over the page of the book he is reading. It's like watching a pendulum and Eddie finds himself hypnotized, enraptured, gone without any chance of return. Curious as he is though he forces himself to look away from the beautiful hazel eyes and tries instead to make out what the guy is reading.

He has to slap a hand on his mouth to keep himself from making a noise when he sees that the guy is reading A Court of Thornes and Roses. Now that is unexpected. Eddie never read it himself but he didn't think Mr. probably works for a big boy loads of money epicenter of capitalism company would read romance books let alone fairy porn romance books on the train to work. It's unexpected and Eddie instantly falls a little deeper. But unfortunately, as with all subway romances, it reaches its end as the train reaches the next station. Pretty boy sighs, dog ears his page (naughty) and gets up.

In the twenty seconds it takes for the train doors to open and the guy to step out Eddie fast forwards through the life they could have led. Imagines all the shared giggles and kisses and moments in time, sees all the stupid arguments they are going to have and the make up sex they'll have afterwards. Their first date will be in a little cafe just down the road from the Hideout, their wedding anniversary at a family-owned Italian place that reminds pretty boy of his grandma's cooking. The train door closes and Eddie's indulgent little fantasy ends. No point in thinking about all the what ifs, he's never going to see the guy again.

Except that he does. Next day, same time, same train, same exhaustion humming in Eddie's bones, same guy, different suit same book. Eddie stares. Can't help himself and maybe this is the universe giving him a second chance, telling him to make a move. But the only thing that moves is the guy when he reaches his stop, dog ears his book again, gets up and leaves. And well fall in love on the subway once, fall in love on the subway twice, Eddie thinks that this must be it.

But apparently, the universe is having a laugh because the impossible keeps happening, book guy keeps being on Eddie's train, and keeps on sitting right across from Eddie. The day he finishes acotar is the day they make eye contact for the first time. With a sigh he closes the book, looks up and catches Eddie staring. Eddie knows he should look away but he just can't, pinned under the guy's gaze he just keeps staring. And the guy stares right back, looks Eddie up and down and gives him a flirty little smirk and heart palpitations before he gets up.

The next day his hazel eyes widen in surprise when he sees Eddie sitting down across from him again like he too can't believe seeing the same guy on the subway twice. Eddie gives him an awkward smile, which gets returned just as awkwardly before the guy averts his gaze and continues to read Twilight. Okay, so pretty boy likes cheesy monster romance books. At least it's not 50 shades, Eddie thinks. Because he knows he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from saying something and coming off like a total creep, telling a stranger on the subway that the portrayal of bdsm in that book is unrealistic and harmful and should never be acted out like that. Instead, Eddie just blissfully gets to wonder whether the guy is team Edward or team Jacob.

After that pretty boy keeps noticing Eddie. They exchange little smiles that become nods that become whispered hi-s and see you-s. Summer comes by the time pretty boy finishes twilight and his coat and suit turn into polos and khakis and it makes Eddie want to bang his head against the train's window because no one should be able to look that good in such stuffy clothes. After vampires, it's time for some Regency romance and several weeks for frowning eyes as pretty boy tries to make it through pride and prejudice. On one particularly hot summer morning he just slams the book shut with a groan of frustration.

"Not good?" Eddie can't help but ask. Pretty boy looks at him and the annoyance in his face softens. It's probably the hot weather that drives a blush into his cheeks.

"Kinda?" he shrugs. "I loved the movie like that almost kiss in the rain? The hand stretch? I loved it."

It's endearing how passionately pretty boy talks about the movie. And god his voice is perfect too. If Eddie had not already been lured by his pretty eyes it would have been the siren call of his voice.

"But the book? It's like super complicated man. Who are half these people? Why do they talk like that. And I know it's like high-class literature or something, but it just makes me feel l...I don't know stupid."

"It's not stupid, Austen isn't for everyone," Eddie reassures him and that gets a little smile out of the guy.

"Thanks," he says, suddenly shy.

Eddie wants to bite him. Wants to take him out, wants to know what his kisses taste like and what the first song that made him cry was. Wants to learn his favorite kind of soup and if blue is his favorite color. It's silly, it's just a stranger on the subway he keeps meeting.

"I'm Steve by the way," pretty guy says and just like that mysterious, sexy stranger becomes Steve. It only makes Eddie want Steve more.

"Eddie," he says just as the train pulls into Steve's station. With an apologetic smile, Steve gets up.

"See you tomorrow, Eddie?" he asks, hopeful and all Eddie can do is nod, mouth gone dry.

"See you tomorrow," he promises.

Instead of going straight to sleep like usual when he gets home, Eddie takes out his songwriting book, sharpens a pencil and then writes like a possessed man. It's just a silly song, something whipped up and recorded within half an hour. Just a little love song starting with "he took the morning train going somewhere." It's not something he would play with the band, nothing he would put on an album. He puts it on tiktok instead before he finally falls asleep.

By the time he wakes up his phone is running hot with notification. Confused and bleary-eyed Eddie opens the tiktok app and promptly almost drops his phone. During the few hours he's slept his silly little joke song has gone absolutely viral.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Of all the songs that could have gone viral it of course just had to be song he recorded as a joke about falling in love with a corporate guy reading fair porn on the subway. Fuck, Steve. It's so so so obvious that the song is about him. Eddie has no idea how he is meant to take the train tomorrow and look Steve into his gorgeous eyes. He dreads all night. When he gets to the Hideout the guys from the band tease him about the song, but insist they have to put it on the demo. It's not their usual vibe but according to Gareth it slaps and Jeff calls it a bop. Eddie just feels sick. Steve is going to hate him.

Only that when Eddie gets onto the train with shaky knees, Steve smiles at him like any other day. Pride and Prejudice has been replaced with a copy of One Last Stop which definitely seems more like Steve's kind of book. But Eddie is too nervous to really think about it. He expects Steve to lash out at any moment, call him a weirdo, wave a restraining order in his face. But none of that happens. Steve just reads, and when he gets up to leave tells Eddie "see you tomorrow."

Eddie's song becomes more and more viral but the subway rides home stay the same. Steve will say hi, smile at him, read, then get up and say bye. Nothing more nothing less. Maybe he just doesn't have social media Eddie prays. Even though his book choices seem very curated by the clock app. But Eddie is thankful for every day, Steve doesn't bring up the subway boy song. He is almost done with one last stop the day Eddie and the boys get the call from Kings Records about a deal. It's one of Chicago's biggest labels and it would mean the big break for them. Only that they insist on Subway Guy being on the record.

Eddie doesn't like it, doesn't like it one bit. But the guys beg him to reconsider it. The song went viral for a reason and Eddie knows he will never forgive himself he keeps them all from making their dreams come true just because some guy on the subway might think he is a creep. Only that Steve is not just some guy. He is the highlight of Eddie's day, the sugar in his coffee, the reason mornings aren't as awful anymore. He is also noticeably absent on Eddie's ride to the record label.

It's the same train, the same time as always, but the seat across from Eddie is vacant. No corporate hottie with a cheesy romance book to be seen. Maybe the universe is teaching Eddie a lesson, telling him that he really screwed it up this time. Make it big but lose the guy it's karma.

Eddie tries his best to put on a smile and not let his foul mood show when he enters the record label, the guys from the band are already there. He can't blow this for them just because his heart aches a little. Okay, maybe it aches a lot but this is Eddie's dream. It's all their dream. So he keeps on smiling, shakes the big official music producer guy's hand and gets led to studio. They spend the day recording subway guy and while Eddie still feels a tad bad, he can't help but enjoy the process. The song is good, objectively, actually good and it's nice to be told that.

They finish for the day, but before they can leave there are some legal things to sort through, so the producer guy sends them to legal. It's at the top of the building, glass walls, stunning view. A secretary leads them to a conference room with a smile and tells them their laywer Mr. Harrington will be with them shortly to sign contracts, sort through copyright etc. etc.

Eddie is tunes her out, too distracted by the city below him. The train tracks look like thin lines from up here and Eddie can't help but think back to Steve. The excitement of the day turns into guilt, making his stomach ache. Just as Eddie is about to run, to call it all off the door to the conference room opens and Eddie's jaw drops.

"Hi everyone," Steve greets the band. "I'm Steve Harrington, resident lawyer for King Records. Sorry for letting you wait, but I was super curious and wanted to listen to your song first."

Warm hazel eyes find Eddie's wide-blown ones. There is no way this is real, this has to be a prank. But Steve just pulls out a bunch of paperwork and notions for them all to sit down. Eddie barely listens when Steve goes over the legal aspects, Nancy is going to read over the contract when Eddie gets home anyways. Eddie is too busy staring at Steve.

"Wonderful, this is all," Steve says once they have gone through all the paperwork. "King Records is looking forward to working with you."

Steve smiles as he leads them back to the elevators.

"Gotta say, while it's not my usual sound, I really enjoyed your song. I relate maybe a little bit too much to falling in love with a stranger on the subway," he says as they wait for the elevator. "The guy you wrote the song about must be a pretty special guy."

"He is," Eddie finally, finally regains his ability to speak. "I don't just write love songs about any kind of stranger."

The elevator dings open but Eddie doesn't want to move. He wants to stay, a million questions on his mind, starting with you're really not mad and ending with so I was thinking spring wedding, maybe May. Thoughts? But corroded coffin drag him into the elevator say their thanks and then before he can do anything yet another door slides shut between him and Steve. The guys don't notice that something is off, too euphoric about their first record deal. But it's fine, their joy is infectious and Eddie doesn't pout about being dragged away from Steve. Eddie knows he is going to see Steve again.

It's too early in the morning when Eddie steps onto the train home from his last shift at work. There is a beautiful guy on the train, dressed in a pristine suit, romance novel in his hands. He doesn't wait for Eddie to pass by, just grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him down into the seat right next to him.

"Hi," Steve grins, far too awake this early.

"Hi," Eddie whispers back, giddy despite all his exhaustion. They are both quiet for a moment before Eddie blurts, nervous, "Read anything good lately?"

It startles a laugh from Steve and it's such a nice sound Eddie instantly wants to make Steve laugh again.

"I have actually," Steve smiles. "I would tell you all about it, but I'm afraid my stop is next."

He takes what looks like a bookmark out from between the pages of his current book. Which is weird because Steve never uses bookmarks. It becomes less weird when he hands the bookmark to Eddie, a phone number written in dark ink on it.

"How about you give me a call and I can tell you all about it over a coffee," Steve suggests and get up. "And you can tell me all about that song of yours."

Eddie blinks surprised once, twice, as Steve leaves the train. Then Eddie instantly digs out his phone. He should go home, sleep. But screw sleep, who needs to rest when you have a coffee date with a hot stranger you fell in love on the subway with to arrange.

[anticipatecrime]

Hello! I was wondering if you wrote for Johnnie Guilbert? If so, I was gonna request Dating Headcannons for him :D !! ( Only if you’re comfortable, ofc! )

𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 | johnnie guilbert

a/n: yes i love him <3 take some little dating headcanons, (sorry its short)

•you either meet johnnie from my digital escape, which was a collabrative youtube channel with alternative people

•or he first sees you on omegle while streaming for the first time, shocked to see a punk person

•he gives you his instagram that day after talking with you for sometime and you start dming

•he was quite awkward and shy when you first started talking and calling on the phone, not used to this

•it took a long time of being friends with johnnie for him to ask you out, but you were okay with that because it was worth it

•after my digital escape you didn’t continue with having a social media presence other than instagram

•he never made it a thing to announce it to his viewers, he just kind of included you in videos, and people understood you were together

•at the start of your relationship, he never wanted to be touchy in public or do pda but the more he fell in love with you he didnt care about other peoples opinions

•he would definitely hold your hand, and kiss your cheek, but the rest was private

•would never admit it, but he was a hopeless romantic which means he would always be trying his best for you, and wanting to be near you

•when filming for his youtube or his friends, he would always invite you along, and it was beneficial for both of you, it helped his anxiety and it made you feel included

•he would deal with constant looks and sometimes laughter when he would go outside or go on omegle, but he would never let it get to him, just turning it into a joke

•but when people would comment on your looks, he’d be more harsher and protective

•after a long day of filming, he would collapse into your arms, and cuddle with you, saying he wishes he could just stay there forever

•you would totally go on late night walks or adventures with him to seven eleven

•date wise, he would always get creative and find stuff to do with you

•you both liked going to a different cafe every week or so, ordering something new and just enjoying your time together since you were both busy working most days

•but he still loved just watching netflix on the couch with you, having a night in

•eventually you found a show you both loved, and now you wait to watch it together every friday evening

•he wasn’t one for outside activities, but you encouraged him to go hiking and rock climbing with you and he began to like it.. other than being sweaty and the mosquitoes

•you guys would totally share music, make playlists for eachother and johnnie would eventually encourage you to start singing because your voice was one of his favourite sounds

•he would take you to his favourite bands concerts and gigs, and you would do the same, him loving all of the music you listen to

•as a tattoo artist, you would totally design tattoos for him, and find ideas for his merch line

•he was never one to take things super seriously, but when it came to your relationship, and thinking about the future, it was always thought through

•when you got a cat, he was googling everything to do with the breed, the best food it should eat, healthcare information, which may seem normal, but tell that to the 11 pages of cat research on your living room coffee table

•when you got your first apartment together, no longer having to be in the same space as his roommates, it was such a relief

•he would wait by the door, with your cat, longing for you to come home from the tattoo parlour, and when you did he would be all over you

•i dont care what anyone says, he would be so clingy, just loving your presence

•his love languages are definitely quality time and physical touch. acts of service is up there though

•he loved feeling appreciated

•he would be the sweetest and just the perfect person to be in a relationship with.

[mystellenia]

romantic tension with abby

summary: in the warm glow of abby's bedroom, after a day of shared hobbies, you contemplate your deepening feelings for her and hope that perhaps she feels the same

content: friends (to lovers???), sfw, literally nothing else

notes: wrote a part two :p i need to write more fluff bc there is such a shortage AND especially with abby. this is like so domestic like in the way that there's no extra interactions. like this is literally how me and a friend would act after a day of painting!! just sleepy and tired zzzzz

(wc 0.7k)

the setting sun cast an orange glow on abby's bedroom where the two of you lay on her floor, bathing in the heat radiating from her large window. you'd just finished painting birdhouses for the married pair of sparrows that frequented the birdseed abby had set out. they would dance around each other and sing their chirpy harmonies and then take turns pecking at the various seeds from the feeder, so abby thought it necessary to handmake them houses in her shop. 

this was one of your many duet activities of abby's "grandma hobbies," as you called them. you two had fed the ducks down at the lake, gone through an entire coloring book, built lego sets, and done nearly a dozen puzzles—one of which was glued and framed in abby's kitchen. 

you guys spent every free moment of time together, and counted down the time until you could when one was busy. you were the closest of friends, but lately you found yourself wanting more—or at least thinking about how it would be if you were more. coming home to each other instead of making the fifteen-minute drive any time you wanted to see her. being able to actually tell her when she looked so pretty it made you hold your breath instead of chewing on your lip. 

she shifted next to you, bending her legs at the knees and pulling you out of your thoughts. "i should probably wash the brushes before the paint dries on them, right?" 

you almost tell her she shouldn't so that you could lay with her a little while longer, but you give in. "yeah, you should." 

she sits up to stand, grunting as she lifts her body weight and moving to the crafting cloth where your birdhouses currently sat drying. you sat up and leaned against the foot of her bed, watching as she so delicately readjusts the cloth so that it doesn't smudge your paint job. 

scrubbing your hands down your face, you push up off the bed and move to grab a sweatshirt of hers to change into, taking your paint-covered tank off and slipping the sweatshirt over your head. it sat baggy on your body with her being bigger than you are just about everywhere, and you threw the hood over your head and dropped onto the right side of her bed. 

she returns with her hands patting on her sweats to dry them off. seeing you in the bed, she comes to sit next to you, with you on your back and her laying on her side to face you. 

"you wanna just stay the night?" she says, her voice lifting at the end as if it were a question and not a declaration. "it's too late to go home alone." 

"yeah, i think i will," you respond. you remember the origami book she bought at the farmer's market last saturday. "only if we make paper cranes until our fingers bleed from paper cuts tomorrow," you grin, turning to look at her and see she's already looking back at you. 

"okay. i have lots of band-aids," she jokes. 

you chuckle, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, sheepishly smiling at the other while holding eye contact. 

"can we also get those berry pastries from the cafe? and make those butterflies we saw on pinterest?" you ask, your cheeks still kissing your eyes. 

"yeah, i'll wake up early to get them for breakfast," she nods. "and i only got that book so we can make things together—we can make whatever you want." 

in place of a response, you slip your fingers between hers and tightly squeeze her hand, ignoring your frustration with the uncertainty of her feelings for you. 

the tip of her nose pinks a bit before she opens her mouth. "good night. we need brain power for making cranes." 

you turn onto your side as well to face her, your noses nearly touching. "good night, abby," you grin, high on the feel of her skin on yours and the way she's looking at you.  

you fall asleep with a smile on your face because your close friend, abby, may just like you, too. 

@picklesarenice69 @abbyandersonsrightbuttcheek

yayyy i’m back :3

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

[jiniretracha]

Hello !! can I pls request a bangchan x reader small story smut. Can we make y/n a cashier at a cafe that bangchan comes a lot too. Hes always had his eyes on her and purposely kept coming so he could see her take his order again and again. But one day he came after working hours while y/n was packing up to confess. Btw (y/n is not experienced and is quite innocent which turns chan on the most) So can this story be a late night in the cafe storage room smut? And can I pls request the smut to be limited only to marking and dry humping. tysm!!

Blueberry Muffin - Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight smut, slight angsty, chan being whipped for the reader, minho and changbin being two little shits

Summary: Chan loved the afternoons. He had found a nice café close to the studio where he would go every single day for coffee. Specially, to stare at the pretty cashier who had the prettiest smile.

Word count: 3.4k words

PS: this is my first request, thank you so much for sending one! i tried to keep this short but it's impossible for me lol. i hope you enjoy though ❤️

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi

Chan’s favourite part of the day was the afternoon. 

He had discovered a little while ago a café that was just around the block from the studio. He had gone with Changbin there, dying for a double espresso that would make them prepare for the next recording session, and found himself staring at the pretty waiter that was by the counter, wearing her hair down and a pretty white hair band. 

Changbin had teased him the whole way back to the studio, but Chan couldn’t really focus on anything rather than coming up with ways to ask you for your number. 

Two months in, frequently visiting the cafe, and he still couldn’t get the courage to talk to you past ordering his usual. 

Chan had the same order every time, and you remembered. Every time. 

He’d blush like a schoolboy every time and it didn’t seem like you noticed him. You were always very attentive to every single customer, but you treated him like everyone else. 

And he wasn’t going to have that. 

Today, he had gone to the café with Minho and Changbin, sitting by their usual spot by the window.

“You guys want anything?” Chan asked, going to stand up.

“Yeah, I’ll take an iced americano” Minho said.

“Yeah, one for me too, and the number of the girl you can’t stop staring at,” Changbin said. “for you, of course” he winked.

Chan blushed profusely and shook his head. “Could you stop with that? I told you I don’t like Y/N”

“Y/N? She has a name?” Minho chuckled, looking at Changbin.

Chan let out a sigh and turned around. “I hate you guys” he said, walking towards the counter, leaving the laughter of his friends behind. 

He walked up behind the last person in line and couldn’t help but stare at you. You were so beautiful, wearing your smile that you always had perched on your face as you attended each and every customer the same. 

The man in front of him did seem to notice your beauty, because as soon as Chan’s eyes fell on him, he saw the way he was eating you up and down. His jaw clenched and tried his best not to let his feelings show off.

The man leant against the counter and smirked at you.

“Hey, sir-”

“Hey pretty girl” he winked at you, and Chan’s eyes turned to you, seeing the discomfort all over your face. “I’d like an iced mocha with two chocolate macarons and on top of that your number” 

You opened your mouth and quickly closed it, clicking on the tablet in front of you. “Anything else sir?”

“Your number, cutie. Wasn’t I clear enough?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Uh, sorry, I- I’m flattered but, I can’t-” you stammered.

“It’s okay, I won’t mention it to your boss” the man insisted.

“No, it’s not that, sir. I just don’t-”

“Hey” Chan decided to step in. His blood was boiling at this point. “I think she was clear that she’s not interested” 

The man turned around with a frown and looked at Chan up and down. “It’s none of your business, bro” he scoffed.

“It isn’t, but I’m fucking starving here and I’m pretty sure she said ‘no’ two times already” he said. 

Chan didn’t really know where all that anger came from, but he was so sure he wanted to punch the living hell out of the man hitting on you.

The man scoffed and basically threw his card on the counter and you quickly picked it up, charging him his order. You wordlessly gave it back to him and he took it from your fingers harshly, walking away to the waiting area.

“Hi, thank you for doing that” you sighed in relief.

“No, it’s no problem” Chan waved his hand in front of him. “He was being disgusting, to be honest”

“Yeah” you whispered. “But thank you. I didn’t have it in me to scold him or send him off…” 

Chan smiled at you and he noticed your cheeks went red and looked down a little. “Uh, do you want me to give you my order…?”

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry, sorry, sir” you apologized constantly. “What would you like? Your usual?” 

“Not today. I’d like two iced americanos and one blueberry muffin” he said. 

“Oh, sweet. The blueberry muffins are fresh from the oven, you’ll love them” you smiled, clicking on the options in your tablet.

Your stomach erupted with butterflies after hearing the soft chuckle that fell from Chan’s lips. You couldn’t help but blush at the man that defended you just moments ago. “Really?” he asked. “I’ll make sure to test that”

“Go ahead, feedback’s always appreciated” you smiled.

Feedback, Chan thought. An excuse to talk to her later.

Chan gave you his card and waited. You handed it back with a smile and scribbled down his name, as you had already memorized it.

He walked to the waiting area and turned around, exchanging looks with Minho and Changbin who lifted their thumbs up with a smile. Chan rolled his eyes and looked away.

Another waiter gave him his order and he walked with the tray towards their table. 

“So… wanna tell us what was that about, Casanova?” Minho chuckled.

“Shut. Up” Chan said sternly, handing out the orders to his friends.

“Oh, no, absolutely not” Changbin shook his head. “What happened over there? You cursed” 

Chan sighed. “That bastard over there was flirting with her and she looked hella uncomfortable” he said to them.

“So you jumped in to defend your woman” Minho said.

“You are so annoying, have I ever told you that?” Chan asked with a scoff.

“Yeah, on a daily basis”

“Anyways, I told the man off and well… she thanked me” Chan shrugged.

“She talked to you besides order-talk?” Changbin asked him.

“Yeah”

“What did you talk about?” he asked excitedly.

Chan doubted his answer. “Blueberry muffins”

Minho and Changbin exchanged looks and bursted out in laughter. 

“I fucking hate you” Chan sighed, rolling his eyes and kicking their legs. 

Minho wiped a tear from under his eye and let out a last chuckle. “You talked to her about blueberry muffins, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Yeah, I ordered one and she told me they were good!” Chan defended himself. 

“Right, right” Changbin tried controlling his laughter. 

Chan sighed and took a bite out of his blueberry muffin, almost moaning as soon as the sweet taste hit his tongue. He let out a hum and practically devoured it. 

“Yo, order another one” Changbin said.

“What?” 

“Another excuse to talk to her, go, go, go!” he said, kicking his leg.

Chan clumsily stood up from the couch he was sitting on and went to the counter. 

You looked at him with a smirk and he chuckled when he saw your expression. “Okay… you were right. They were really good. Imma need another one” he said, pressing his lips together.

“I told ya” you chuckled, clicking on the tablet in front of you. “They were good”

“Yeah, I didn’t expect them to be that good, though”

You just let out a laugh and grabbed the card, swiping on the device. “By the way…” you trailed off before handing him the card. He took it from your fingers and looked at you curiously. “...I think blueberry muffins are a great topic for conversation” you said and turned around with a smile, walking away to wash some dishes.

Chan stared at you and then closed his eyes, sighing. “I am so fucked”

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

Another month passed by and Chan was sure by now he had fallen for you. 

Hard.

It was a constant round trip of flirting. Back and forth. All the time. 

He’d smile at you and you’d smile back with the same tone. He made you blush and you made him giggle. 

Until one time, he had gone with the same motivation, ordered his usual, his new usual, which now consisted in his coffee and a blueberry muffin, and flirted with you and you flirted back.

He walked towards the waiting area and his phone vibrated in his pocket. 

He took it out and read Hannah, and he instantly smiled, knowing that he had been waiting for her call for a long time now.

“Hey, honey” he answered the call. “How’s home?”

“Ew, don’t call me honey. You’re gonna sound just like mom” Hannah said.

Chan chuckled and shook his head. 

What Chan didn’t know is that as soon as you saw him smile at his phone and pick up the call, you knew something was going on. And when he opened his mouth to say hey, honey, your heart broke into millions of pieces. 

You turned around, feeling stupid for your eyes filling up with tears. You’ve known this man for three months, he wasn’t even your friend or your boyfriend. Why would you feel so heartbroken?

On top of that, he was an idol. Why would he ever look at you?

That chick was probably a hot model, or a hot fellow idol who looked fantastic by his side and fans probably would call them a power couple. 

At the self-sabotaging thoughts, you noticed your cheeks were wet by now. 

You felt a hand on your back and turned around to find your co-worker, Jiwoo, looking at you with a concerned look.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” she asked you.

You wiped your cheeks and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Could you-uh… could you cover for me for a minute? I need to go to the bathroom” you told her.

“Yeah, go ahead. Take your time” 

“Thank you, Ji” you thanked her and walked past her.

Going to the bathroom meant passing by the waiting area and you absolutely hated the idea of him seeing you like this, but you couldn’t see anything with your blurred vision due to the tears.

“No, I know, I know. I miss you” Chan continued his talk.

“You’re so fucking sappy, it’s disgusting. But I guess I miss you too” Hannah said on the other side.

Chan was about to reply when he saw you walking past him, tears striking down your cheeks.

He mumbled something into the phone and cut the call, watching you dive into the bathroom and lock yourself in.

He was about to follow you but Jiwoo’s voice cut him off. “Order for Chan” she called.

Chan immediately cursed, knowing he had to run this time, he didn’t have time to actually sit and enjoy his order, or worse, find out why you were so sad. 

He grabbed his stuff and before Jiwoo could walk away, he stopped her.

“Do you know what happened to her?” he asked him.

Jiwoo bit her lip and shrugged. “I don’t know. She asked me to cover up for her and ran to the bathroom” she replied.

“Fuck” he whispered. “Well, thank you” he said to her.

“Yeah, have a nice day!”

“You too” he mumbled and walked out of the cafe before taking a glance at the locked bathroom.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

The next day, he walked into the café, in hopes to find out why you were so sad the day before.

He walked towards the counter and was taken aback when he didn’t find you wearing your usual smile. Instead, you wore a frown on your face and a rather numb expression.

“Hi, can I take your order?” you asked monotonously.

“Hey, Y/N, how are you?” Chan asked you, cautiously.

“I’m good. Can I take your order?” you repeated.

He pulled his face back in shock. “Y-yeah, I… I’ll take my usual” Chan said, stammering at your tone.

You nodded and clicked on the tablet. He walked towards the waiting area and stood there, staring at you preparing his usual with the same expression. 

He walked with his order towards his usual table and took his time staring at you while slowly drinking away his order. 

A few hours later, Chan couldn’t get himself to leave the café without asking what was the problem, but in another news, he didn’t know how to ask you.

With a sigh, he walked out of the café and into his car. He noticed it was pretty late, and he knew he had to get back home. Suddenly, it started to rain. Pouring rain. 

He turned his head around, watching you struggle to close the door, due to the heavy wind.

“Hey, I’ve got this” you said stubbornly to Jiwoo.

“You sure?” she asked you.

“I am sure, really” you nodded.

“Okay” she said, and pressed a kiss to your head. “I’ll see you on monday”

“See ya” you whispered and watched Jiwoo walk away.

You sighed and closed the door with a thud, but with such force, your feet slipped on the concrete and you fell to the floor, elbow first, making you cry out in pain.

Chan immediately got out of the car and grabbed you, helping you up.

“Y/N! You okay?” he asked desperately. “Are you hurt?”

You looked at his face and forgot all about the pain. You let him help you up and before you could send him away, you cried out in pain as you felt the sharp sting on the skin of your elbow, “Fuck” you whispered.

“Let me see” he said to you, grabbing your arm gently and twisting it so she could see what it was. “Shit… we’ll need band-aids and something to disinfect the wound. Do you have some inside?” he asked.

You nodded, “There’s a kit in the storage room”

“Perfect, let’s go” he said. 

He helped you inside, and you couldn’t help but feel warm all over. You opened the storage room with your keys and he let you down to sit down on a box. You winced as you felt the cold air of the storage room hit your elbow.

“I got it” he said, holding it up in his hand. 

He opened it up and took out the hydrogen peroxide, poured it on some alcohol and dabbed it across your skin.

You winced, whimpering a little and his other hand fell to your thigh. “It’s okay, I’m almost done” he said and squeezed.

You immediately felt no pain, your brain focusing too much on the hand that was on your thigh.

“There, now let me bandage it up” Chan said, taking out a bandage and wrapping it around your elbow. “All done”

“Great. Thank you” you whispered, feeling your face grow hot. 

Chan felt the uncomfortable silence as it fell and let out a breath. “Y/N, can I… can I ask you something?”

You looked at him and then down to your feet. “Yeah” you mumbled. “Yeah, go ahead”

“What happened yesterday?” he asked you. Damn him, you thought to yourself. “I saw you run to the bathroom crying. I would’ve asked you yesterday when I saw you but I had to run back to the studio-”

“It’s- it’s okay. Nothing happened” you said.

Chan looked at you with an I-don’t-believe-you face. “Y/N…”

“I just…” you sighed and wanted to smack yourself in the face for your eyes that were getting teary once again.

“Hey…” he said, putting a hand on your cheek and rubbing your skin. “What’s going on, huh?” he asked, using his other free hand to wipe the rest of your tears.

“Don’t do that” you whispered.

Chan stopped his movements. “What?”

“Don’t do that, Chan. What will your girlfriend think?” you said, pushing his hand away. 

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

You scoffed and looked away.

“What girlfriend, Y/N?” he asked.

“The one you were talking to yesterday after flirting back and forth with me for three months. That girlfriend” you said, wiping your tears furiously. “I mean, leading me on like that it’s so, so mean, like-”

Chan pressed his lips against yours, bringing your face close to his, tired of the cat-and-mouse game. You gasped against his lips and he pulled away, looking at your shocked face with a chuckle.

“I don’t have a girlfriend” he whispered, his eyes focused on your lips.

“Then-”

“That was my sister. Who lives in Australia” he said.

“Oh”

You’ve never felt so dumb in your life. 

He chuckled and pressed another kiss on your lips, a short one. “I flirt with you because I like you, Y/N” he said, helping you stand up from the box. “And I am such an idiot that I didn’t ask you for your number, or on a date before. But I am doing it right now?”

“Which one?” you asked, your eyes trained on his lips.

“Which one what?”

“Which one are you asking for? My number or a date with me?” you asked, crossing your arms around his neck.

His arms went around your waist and brought you closer. “Both”

His lips impatiently fell over yours, enclosing yours fiercely. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you even closer as you felt him push you against the wall of the storage room, his tongue exploring the caverns of your mouth. “You are so beautiful” he whispered, pulling away from your lips and brushing them over your jaw, and kissing his way down your neck. 

Your nails dug into his back, and sighed. “Chan” you whispered. 

“Mmh?” he hummed, biting your neck and making you arch your back. He was surely going to leave a mark. “Yeah?”

“I… I don’t- I’ve never-” you stumbled over your words, as your cheeks grew hotter and redder by the second.

Chan smirked. “You’ve never what, baby? Use your words” he said, his hand flying downwards to squeeze the cheeks of your ass.

You gasped, gripping his shoulders. “I haven’t done it- you know- it” you whispered, feeling the embarrassment wash over you.

Chan groaned, pressing himself against you and you let out a moan. “Nobody’s ever touched you?” he asked, pulling his face from your neck and smirking. 

“N-no. I mean, I’ve done… things but…”

“Don’t worry, baby” Chan smiled, kissing your lips. “I’ve got you”

You wanted nothing more than to give yourself to him right there, at that moment. You didn’t care about a thing.

“Let me take you out first, baby. Treat you like you deserve” he said, his hand caressing over your hair, letting it fall over to your neck and squeezed slightly. “Yeah?” he whispered, brushing his hand down your chest and squeezing your tits.

You moaned and kissed him furiously, feeling yourself drenching your underwear under your skirt. “Channie” you whined.

“What, baby?” he asked, kissing the side of your neck a few times.

“I know you said you were going to take me out but… I…” you whimpered.

Chan understood immediately what you referred to and his hands went to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up in his arms and pressing himself against your heat. His lips fell hungrily over yours, practically devouring your mouth as his hips moved against yours, dry-humping you. 

Your nails dug into his shirt and you couldn’t help yourself but bite his lip. He groaned, his hands gripping your ass cheeks tightly. 

You felt yourself grinding your covered core against his hardness, that was covered as well by his sweatpants. You could tell he wasn’t wearing underwear underneath them, making it even sweeter. 

“Channie, I’m-” you stopped yourself, about to moan out.

“Come on, baby” he urged, pressing harder against you. 

You dove your head on his neck and whimpered, feeling yourself letting go inside your panties. “Fuck” you whispered.

You felt Chan press himself over and over until he came inside his sweatpants, with a tortured groan that was muffled by your hair.

“Shit, that was fucking hot” he sighed.

“Yeah” you giggled.

You pulled your face back, and framed his, pressing a kiss to his lips sweetly. 

He dropped you gently on the floor and you sighed. “I’m sorry”

Chan frowned and looked down, his eyes widening. “Oh, it’s no problem, babe. I most definitely enjoyed myself” he smiled.

“Yeah, me too” you said, giggling with shyness.

“Hey, don’t get shy on me” Chan said, gripping the back of your head by your hair gently and tilting your head up. He pressed a kiss on your lips, making you smile against his mouth. “You still owe me that date”

“I absolutely do”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss on his mouth, “I’m starving, do you think you can open up the shop just to buy a little something?”

You pulled your face back. “Y-yeah, I can. What did you have in mind?”

“I was craving some blueberry muffins” 

You laughed out loud and he did the same, covering your mouth in another kiss.

[bee-the-loser-recs]

☼ My Huening Kai One-shot Fic Recs ☼

𖤓 Apple Cider By @wave2tyun 3.5k, childhood friends to lovers, very fluffy, piano prodigy Kai, school au, slight injury

𖤓 Policy of truth and lies By @wave2tyun 3.3k, high school au, band!TXT, brother's best friend trope, Soobin is reader's brother, hidden relationship, sneaking around, fluff, getting caught, a bit suggestive

𖤓 #Kai when he can't control his strength By @majestyjun NSFW, straight up smut, shower sex, established relationship, hard thoughts

𖤓 Rose gold By @beomanamilk Drabble, established relationship, watching the sunset, cuddling on a blanket, affirmations of love & trust, fluff, really cute

𖤓 Know your place. By @koqabear 3.9k, established relationship, smut, jealousy, alcohol, being incredibly aware of interactions, exhibitionism (rest of txt is there)

𖤓 Wish me luck? By @koqabear 6.2k, Taehyun x reader x Huening Kai, idol au, make up artist reader, mentions of the other members, smut, slight fluff, part of a mini rockstar series

𖤓 Falsies By @forlovvers 500, established relationship, sleepy Kai, fluff, taking off fake lashes, Kai is slightly scared of them, really cute

𖤓 Advantage By @huexuri Roommates au, mentions of attempts to play piano, smut, slight fluff, changing up the dynamic, friends to lovers

𖤓 How it's done By @huexuri Established relationship, sharing a bed, smut, slight fluff, mentions of sleeping better next to Kai

𖤓 Perfect man By @txtaetertots 4k, friends to lovers, reader works at the cafe in Hybe, pining Kai, everyone sees his crush, reader is older than Kai, flirting, having to be more forward

𖤓 A bed in your shape & A life in your eyes By @jjunieworld 1.4k & 7k, ex-friends to lovers, angst, childhood best friends, past feelings, Kai has a toxic ex, reader dated Taehyun for a little bit, parties, smut, slight fluff, kind of asshole Kai, slice of life

𖤓 Spin the bottle By @jjunieworld 1.4k, college au, college parties, strangers to ??, fluff, alcohol and drinking, inexperienced reader & Kai, introvert/wallflower reader, playing Spin the bottle

𖤓 Two best friends in a room By @beomgyuslilracha 7k, non-idol au, best friends to lovers, really affectionate friends, fluff, cluelessly in love idiots, slight angst, cute, mentions of drinking, childhood friends

𖤓 TXT!staff imagine - Huening Kai By @beomgyuslilracha 1.1k, slice of life, reader works with TXT, having to move back to your old job, slight angst, fluff, strong friendship, friends to lovers, turning plushies around to kiss

𖤓 Busy signal & Fit check & Wake up call By @biteyoubiteme 4.7k & 3k & 1.39k, Yeonjun x reader x Kai, established relationship, polyamorous, smut, slight fluff, suggestive photos, trying on outfits, gifts from a partner, being woken up after a night out, slight tipsiness

𖤓 Yeonjun exposes y/n’s crush on kai in the groupchat By @wooyukh SMAU, mutual crushes, meddling friends, exposing a friend's crush, trying to hide feelings, teasing, cute, all the members being aware of reader's feelings

𖤓 Kai and his idol gf By @jjunberry Drabble, established relationship, public relationship, idols in love, Kai being a big stan of your group, talking about them during a live

𖤓 Just a neighbour & Cry for me By @dearlyjun 2.7k & 1.6k, hot neighbour Kai, getting over a break up, hooking up, smut, slight fluff, making out, kind of fwb relationship, wearing his clothes, more of an established relationship in part two

𖤓 Fratboy Huening Kai By @rainbowhao Headcanons, slightly dumb Kai, forward reader, flirting, teasing, complimenting one another, spending the night in his room, sweet, fluff

𖤓 Into you By @beomnoullistheorem 3k, hooking-up, having real feelings for one another, wanting to develop the relationship, hook-up to lovers, smut, slight fluff

𖤓 Stars on windows By @stars4ni 1.9k, established relationship, road trip, buying snacks, gas station, suggestiveness, smut, slight fluff, cute

𖤓 Make it fit By @jeongin-lvr 1.15k, established relationship, straight up smut, needy reader & Kai, implied first time together

[mediumsizedpidegon]

Another avenue I want to explore in an Amity Park is Weird scenario is all the niche sub-cultures going on.

There is absolutely NO WAY there isn't a thriving goth community in Amity Park. They're holding picnics every full moon. They're holding crafting sessions in their friends' basements. They're adopting ghost animals left and right: eight-legged dogs and blob-cats, skeletal fish and neon bearded dragons.

There's a young man called Raphael who performs live music every week at a dance club with his band: he's got a myriad of shiny piercings, and a phone camera roll full of his rabbits, Morningstar and Salem. Perhaps those ghosts are bad business like the Fentons say, but the club's never felt more alive.

The scene and emo kids are multiplying at a rapid rate. The punks and grunge folks are doing shit with textiles that makes every quilting grandmother in a five mile radius swoop in to pass on their skills. Josie and Betty, old friends who periodically upload photos online of their handmade lace, suddenly gain an influx of young folks who want to learn how to make their own ghoulish patterns.

There's a new group peeling off from the goths that dress like the embodiment of Halloween– all bones, pumpkin orange and lengths of costume jewelry.

The historical costuming community is alive and well in these times, and they fall upon the few ghosts from times past willing to share knowledge like starving wolves. Their minds are full of patterning-math and fabric prices, and their excitement is, quite literally, infectious.

A revolution starts up in food service: a great many restaurants closed or moved to follow the many people who left Amity after the ghosts first came. A pair of brothers open a restaurant that has the best Polish food around: people politely don't comment on how the owners are dressed in clothes a century out of date or how their eyes gleam. Two cat cafes open, one space themed and another with loose definitions of what counts as a "cat." Assorted coffee and tea shops dot the landscape: some serve donuts, some have cupcakes, and others have breakfast wraps, sandwiches or savory hand pies.

People that can't afford to open a restaurant sell food out of their homes, advertised by cardboard signs with phrases like CAKES FOR $10, and BARBEQUE RIBS FOR SALE painted on them in gigantic bright letters. High school students bring in bags of cookies they made the night before and completely sell out of stock before the day is done. One woman's house has no signage and yet is known by word of mouth to be a herbalist, selling tins of homemade tea blends, flowers, assorted plant clippings, and cough drops.

Someone down the street of Casper High sells small batches of eco-friendly soap at a nearby corner store.

During summer time, lemonade stands are everywhere. Some of the lemonade is made with the strange fruits from one of the parks: no one dies, so it's fine.

The Farmer's Market has gotten... intense.

[eddieandbird]

Dream Girl—

Sequel to How Romantic. Eddie and you took the rest of Corroded Coffin to brunch to talk about your wedding night. [part 3]

a/n: thank you to everyone who requested a second part to this! tags are in the comments- bird

tags/warnings: fluff w/ slight angst | 3.1k words | f!reader | rockstar!Eddie

———

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” The officiant’s voice was distorted and flashes of darkness stuttered in your vision.

“Come here, baby,” Eddie pulled you by the hips, and in a blur of colors, you felt him dip your body down. His hands were firm, cradling your head in one hand and your waist wrapped in the other. The last thing you saw was Eddie’s half-opened eyes and dark tendrils hovering over you before he kissed you.

You could hear a boisterous chorus of cheers behind you. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you tried to follow along with the rapid movements of his lips. When you were lifted back to open your eyes, you saw Jeff and Gareth out in the pews still cheering and repeating Eddie’s name like he just won a high school football game.

Suddenly you were brought back into the present with Eddie squeezing your thigh tight.

“Hey. You alright?” Eddie asked quietly.

You swung your head around, taking note of your current environment. You were sat outside at a cafe with the rest of Corroded Coffin’s band members.

“Yeah, I’m just a bit tired,” You lied, offering him a weak smile to keep up appearances for Gareth and Jeff.

Eddie worried about you. He noticed that you seemed uncharacteristically spaced out, almost dazed since you both had met up with the band. He watched you plaster on a convincing smile as you reassured him. He didn’t quite believe it, but he didn’t want to push the topic in front of the others.

Gareth leaned over to the two of you, a wide smile on his face. “So last night got pretty wild, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” You said in a slightly mocking tone.

You pouted and shoved a few bites of scrambled eggs in your mouth. “Do you guys remember what happened or were you too far gone like me and idiot Munson over here?”

Eddie leaned in, raising a finger, about to protest but you jokingly made kissy faces at him to get him to shut up before mumbling “Don’t start, darling, I wanna hear the other guys talk first,” You shook your head.

Your eyes flicked between two other members, waiting for someone to speak. Eddie rolled his eyes at your playful jab. Gareth and Jeff exchanged a look across the table, both of them grinning from ear to ear.

"Dude, last night was epic," Gareth said between laughter. "You guys were out of your minds, all over each other-"

Jeff interjected, his voice full of excitement. "And then you both stumbled into that chapel and bam! You guys got hitched!"

You held your head in your hands with a louder scoff.

“Neither of you thought ‘Hm, that’s our lead guitarist and our manager at the altar, let’s stop them from randomly getting married’?” You realized your voice raised a bit and you almost instantly gave them a wave as a gesture to apologize.

“Hey, leave the guys alone, this was our fault,” Eddie’s voice was strained in attempt to not yell at you. The look in his eye was trying to tell you to stop revealing details about your plan before the guys catch a whiff of it. You reluctantly obliged.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I just— I’m just still a bit shocked I guess. We did a big thing last night,” You sighed before taking a long sip of your orange juice.

Both Jeff and Gareth's grins faded slightly as you spoke. They could tell that you were stressed and overwhelmed with how the night's events had turned out, so they decided against making any more jokes.

Jeff reached across the table to pat your hand comfortingly. "Hey, don't worry about it. We get it, this was a wild night for all of us."

Gareth nodded in agreement, "Yeah, and hey, with how long Eddie's had his eye on you, this wasn't that surprising."

You lifted your head like a dog who heard a whistle in the distance. Gareth’s comment was ringing in your ears. You turned to look at Eddie in an almost robotic manner. Your glare was sharp enough to stab him with a sugary grin that didn’t match at all.

“Eddie, what are they talking about?” You asked, your eye was borderline twitching.

Eddie bobbed his head and wiggled his hand, in an attempt to downplay what was just said. “They’re obviously exaggerating, baby,”

He casually chuckled then pushed your hair behind your ear. His hand was on the back of your neck and he pulled you close to obscure his face from the rest of the table.

“Let’s not tell these blabbermouths it’s all a ruse just yet, yeah? They’ll blow our cover way too quickly. Just go with it,” Eddie whispered to you.

You could feel the heat of your anger rising up to your ears, but on your face, you remained stoic. The whole point of brunch was supposed to be telling the band about your situation, but Eddie didn’t seem interested in letting Jeff or Gareth in on the plan. Now with Gareth’s innocent slip of information, you were beginning to understand why. You mimicked Eddie’s grip on his own thigh, digging your nails into the denim of his jeans.

“You three are so funny,” You flashed another false smile to the table before sitting back in your seat with your arms folded.

Eddie could sense your frustration, but he knew that he needed to sell the illusion of a happy couple. He managed to brush your lips with a kiss which you had little response to. Jeff and Gareth exchanged a quick look after you sat back in your seat, both of them raising their eyebrows at each other in confusion.

"Uh... So-" Jeff started, but Gareth spoke up before he could continue.

"Are we missing something here?" Gareth asked cautiously, his gaze darting back and forth between you and Eddie.

“No! No, nope,” You interjected before the other men could speak. “As you probably know, I’ve been very… private about my relationship with Eddie considering I’m your guys’ band manager and all that. Almost like it wasn’t even a thing before last night,”

He subtly elbowed your arm, giving yet another reminder to reel it in.

“I just can’t believe everything is coming to light now. It’s overwhelming. We’re finally married and it’s… awesome,”

You mustered the best look of excitement you could as you stabbed away at your meal with a fork. Eddie couldn’t imagine how vexing it was to hear that he could’ve possibly had feelings for you way before this whole accidental wedding fiasco happened.

“I know. I am so happy. How about you, babe?” Eddie pressed a kiss to your cheek and you reluctantly returned it with another fake grin.

“The absolute happiest,” You said, knowing damn well you’d be scolding him the next time you were both alone.

Eddie could feel the tension radiating off of you, but he kept his hand firmly placed on you under the table. Jeff and Gareth glanced at each other again, both of them confused by your unusually nervous demeanor.

"Uh... Well, congrats you two," Gareth said tentatively, his eyes darting from your face to Eddie's hand on your leg.

"Yeah, it's about time!" Jeff chimed in, his enthusiasm not exactly matching his bandmates'.

You nodded silently for a moment, reigning in your emotions that were very close to spilling out. “We appreciate your guys’ support, we really do. But, I think it’s about time we go back up and pack our things, yeah? We gotta be in Salt Lake City tomorrow night. C’mon, Mr. Munson,”

A loud creak rang out as you stood up and pushed out your chair. You held out your hand for Eddie. Another smile hid just how confused and irritated you were with the mop-headed boy. He let out a breath and pushed back his chair to stand up next to you. He took your hand in his and squeezed it. Jeff and Gareth watched the two of you as you prepared to leave, both of them slightly concerned by your hurried demeanor.

"Uh... yeah, alright. See you guys later," Eddie said to them, still attached to your arm.

The guys nodded, their eyes still fixed on the pair of you as you hurried towards the exit.

Your footsteps were quick, Eddie was barely keeping up and you couldn't care less. You needed answers and couldn’t wait another moment for them.

“Hey, hey! Slow down, would ya? I’m not as fit as I look-”

“I can’t believe you,” You interrupted as you dragged him inside the elevator, pounding the buttons like it would take you up to your room quicker.

“What are you talking about?” He gave a pinched expression. You couldn’t tell if he was faking it or if he was genuinely lost once again.

“Please don’t make me feel crazy, you know what I’m talking about,” You begged, continuing your strides to the room.

Eddie followed closely behind, quickly matching your steps despite his earlier comment. He tried to pretend clueless, but he knew there was no point. As soon as your hotel room door slammed shut behind you, he let out a long sigh. He ran his hand through his hair anxiously as he struggled to find the right words to say.

“Okay. What do you want me to say?” he finally mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

You scoffed and scrubbed your face in your hands. "Jeff and Gareth basically said you've had a thing for me for ages. You didn't even deny it. You want to start telling me about that?”

Eddie’s mouth kept opening and closing his mouth, but he said a whole lot of nothing. It bothered you the way his eyes floated all over the hotel room skipping over your face, but you knew better than to expect him to talk to you in this state. You had to have a softer approach. You caught his chin and pinched it between your index finger and thumb, positioning him to look at you.

You closed your eyes and brought your heart rate and breathing back down to a normal pace before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I won’t be mad, it’s just… in order for this whole thing to work, I really need to know the truth,” You let him go, allowing him the space to confess.

Eddie’s face flushed slightly, a mix of guilt and embarrassment. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He swallowed hard as he gazed down at the floor, unable to look at you.

“It’s true,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, I didn’t know how to approach you with it. You’re always so good at keeping your feelings inside and- and I just-” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words to say.

That was not what you wanted to hear. A big part of you felt betrayed by Eddie. You stepped away from him, taking in his whole frame as you watched him in shock. Your promise of not being upset had been completely thrown out the window.

“So, what, you decided you’d trap me into a marriage because you have a crush on me?” You said with little breath behind your words.

“Hey, no, don’t do that. That is totally not what happened here,” Eddie’s breath was shooting harshly from his nostrils as he pointed down to the floor. “Last night was an accident and you know that,”

He paced the room for a moment, scratching at his dark curls before continuing his rant. “And it’s not like you would’ve given me a chance anyway. You’re always so busy buzzing around the band and worried about being ‘professional’. You would’ve turned me down instantly if I told you how I felt,”

Eddie’s face fell, his stupidly charming smirk was now replaced with a deep-set frown. He was a tornado of hurt that spun around you and it crushed you. Your chest ached and you were softening at the confession of his reservations.

“You don’t know that,” You muttered. You weren’t even sure if it was true, but you shook your head to further your statement.

Eddie let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, please. You would’ve laughed in my face if I told you I had feelings for you. You keep everyone at arm’s length, especially when it comes to romance. You always say relationships are a waste of time. How am I supposed to believe that you would’ve given me a chance if I did things differently?” He continued pacing the room, his voice growing more and more frustrated.

“You always put up this tough act like everything’s fine like you’ve got everything under control, but deep down, I know that’s not true. You’re scared to let anyone in,”

“That’s not it, you know it’s not true-” Panic was coming up on you as you saw Eddie waiting for you to continue. You waved your hands at your eyes, trying to suck up your tears. You needed to gather yourself quickly. “Eddie, you’re the closest person to me. You’re my best friend,”

No matter how hard you denied it, he was right. You had walls up that refused to let down. You decided a long time ago that’s what you needed to do to keep yourself from getting hurt, but Eddie was a bulldozer to all your apprehensions. His childish humor, his fearlessness, and his ability to light up any room was special to you. You didn’t want to ever lose that.

Eddie stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

"But that's exactly my point," he said, his voice softened. "You're comfortable with me as your friend, you trust me, but you’d shut down the idea of anything more. You don't want to risk losing what you have."

He gently pulled you a bit closer to him, determined to make you understand where he was coming from. Words bubbled up from your stomach, threatening to come out of you like a shaken soda can. What were you even supposed to say when he was staring at you with those giant golden brown eyes? You gulped before attempting to speak once more.

“What do you even see in me? Why do you want to be with me? I don’t exactly think I fit the description of your ‘dream girl’,” You asked the burning questions to further avoid your feelings.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your questioning. "Dream girl?" he repeated, shaking his head as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He leaned closer, his breath gently caressing your face. "You could never be just a dream girl... You're the real thing, better than anything a dream could conjure up. Tough as nails, smart as hell, a badass through and through."

His hands moved to rest on your hips and he pulled you even closer. He could still see the gears turning in your head. You were still having a tough battle inside of yourself. He let out a sigh and hung his head before you. He was getting tired of all the bickering. He wanted to get back to the part where you two were on each other’s side again.

“I know it’s a lot. I’m also wrapping my head around it, but I’m giving you what you want, right? I’m putting all my cards out on the table, but that doesn’t mean I’m trying to make you feel anything you don’t. I’m sure you already feel like I’ve forced you into enough for one Vegas trip,” He chuckled ironically, scratching at the side of his neck.

And with that small gesture, you could feel the bricks of your walls starting to chip away. Upon first meeting Eddie, anyone could easily brush him off as someone who was too odd for his own good. Not you. You saw Eddie the way he wanted to be seen. You were impressed with his talents, you were amused by his jokes. Though you were blunt and closed off, you were not judgemental. That’s one of the things Eddie liked the most about you.

“Hey,” you lifted his chin to look at you once more. “What happened to this being both our faults?” You gave a quiet, breathy laugh.

Eddie chuckled along with you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Technically, it is," he agreed, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "But I'm the one who decided to get married on a whim, remember? I don't think you had much say in that."

He moved even closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. The tension and frustration between you seemed to melt away, replaced by that familiar easy banter. You gave your infamous shrug, but this time it was paired with a wiggling smile on your lips as you pushed the hair out of his eyes.

“You’re right. You should know better that I can’t fight off a guy who’s a full foot taller than me hauling me down the aisle, but I was the one who followed you into that chapel last night,”

A grin spread across Eddie's face as you spoke. The tension in his shoulders dissipated slightly, replaced with a sense of relief.

"Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I couldn’t resist getting into the whole ‘kicked puppy’ act," He paused to hear you join him in laughter. "So we’re on the same page, then? You forgive this idiot?"

You jumped up an inch from the floor to get your arms over his head to pull him into a hug.

“Of course, I do, idiot,” Your laugh was muffled by his shoulder. “I’m sorry for all this stupid arguing. Of course, we’re on the same page,”

You definitely weren’t good with stuff like this, but you hoped you could assure him even in the slightest. You felt he deserved it more than anything.

“But to be on the same page, we really need to agree on what we tell people and who we’re telling things to. We’re in this together. Deal?” You flipped back into a stern tone, a hint of playfulness in your grin.

Eddie's grin widened at your words and the way you jumped into his arms, wrapping him tightly in a hug. He let out a content sigh as he returned the embrace, burying his face in your tousled hair.

"Deal," he agreed, nodding his head against the crook of your neck. "We'll get our story straight before talking to anyone else."

He couldn't help but chuckle at your quick transition back to your all-business tone. "You know you're cute when you get all serious, right?"

“Shut up!”