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daddydraco0 · 2 years ago

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rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

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daddydraco0 · 2 years ago

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daddydraco0 · 2 years ago

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“Still alive?”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a relaxing day at home and eddie wants to play.

warnings: smut, language, mentions of spanking, reader calls herself fat, rough sex.

There was something so sexy about watching you paint. Maybe it was how your face scrunched up in concentration. Maybe it was how cute you looked, hair put up and comfy clothes with old paint stains. It was a hot day, so it was spent inside for the both of you. Eddie had lounged on the couch all day watching movies, a cold beer in his hand. When you broke out your canvas and paints, he didn’t pay much more attention to the film on screen. He watched as the white board turned into a bowl of fruit. First it was grapes, then a red apple, then a pear. Now you were working on a pineapple, halfway down with the green and brown spikey stems.

You looked adorable. Little grey, snug shorts just cut at the curve of your backside, black crop top covered in colored paint stains. Your paintbrush end was in your mouth, your eyes into slits as you thought about your painting. You always criticized your work. He didn’t understand why. You were extremely creative. You’d entered into the local fair and won awards almost every year. You liked your paintings to tell a story, is what you always told Eddie.

The polaroid camera sat on the coffee table beside him, and he quietly reached over and brought it to eye level, clicking the button as the room quickly flashed. You jumped at the noise. “Hey,” You looked back with a smile. “I look a mess!”

“You look beautiful.” He corrected for you, setting the camera back down as he held the polaroid. “I’ve been watching you for hours now. I don’t know what the hell I’m even watching now.”

“Friday the 13th chapter 2.” You laughed, turning back to your painting. “I wondered why I felt eyes at the back of my head. Thought maybe we had a ghost.”

“Oh, no.” He shook the picture. “So scary.”

He groaned loudly as he sat up from the couch, glancing at the tv as Jason sliced someone up with his machete, and happily trotted over to you. “Look how pretty.” He swung his arms around your neck, bending down to show you the picture with a cheesy smile.

“God, I look fat.” You cringed. “I’m slouched over. Throw that shit away.” You waved your hand so you wouldn’t have to see it.

“Fat?” He said incredulously. “It’s amazing how you can turn my compliments into insults. You’re too harsh on yourself, babe.” He put the picture in his back pocket, clapping your shoulder. “So, tell me what the story is with this beautiful bowl of fruit.”

“Farmers market opens next week.” You touched up your stem on the pineapple. “Thought maybe they’d like to hang this up by the register.”

“That’s nice of you.” He smiled, admiring the bright colors. “Joyce get hired there?”

“Mhm.” You hummed. “Starts opening day. I think Nancy wants to get a job there too.” You tilted your neck to the side as he kissed it lovingly under your ear.

“Mhm.” His vibrations warmed your neck.

You smiled, dipping your brush in yellow paint. “You’re gonna mess me up, Eddie.”

He dipped down to your shoulder, pulling down your tank top strap to kiss the exposed skin. “Don’t let me distract you, babydoll. Just lovin’ on what’s mine.”

“What’s yours?” You raised a brow in amusement.

He hummed back in response and you could feel his smile on your skin. “Eddie,” You rolled your head back. “I’ve got to finish this by tomorrow.”

“Come on, play with me.” He came up to kiss your cheek, making your smirk. “I’m tired of watching movies.”

You rolled your eyes and put down your paintbrush. “Fine,” You dramatized. “You want your dick sucked?”

“You make having sex with me sound like a chore,” He scoffed, pushing his curls out of his face. “I’m so touched.”

You chuckled and grabbed at his shirt. “Shut up.” You pressed your lips against his, standing on your tipy-toes. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he slowly walked you the both back to the couch. When the backs of his knees hit the couch he laid down, pulling you on top of him.

You kissed him slowly and lovingly, noses rubbing together, little sounds mixing with the violence on the tv screen. Your bare legs rubbed against his jeans, a little warmth growing in your belly of contentment. “Am I boring you?” He cupped the back of your neck, lightly pulling at your hair.

“A little.” You challenged, grinding your clothed body against his own. You whimpered when his large hand cupped the space between your legs, adding pressure in just the right spot.

“There she is.” He smirked slightly, looking up at you with hooded eyes. “See, if I was boring you, angel, you wouldn’t make that pretty sound, now would you?”

“More.” You breathed, leaning into his opposite hand he had on your face, your pussy pounding in the palm of his other.

“I don’t know,” He tsked, petting your face. “You were getting a little too mouthy for my liking, sweetheart. Maybe I should spank that bad attitude out of you, huh? Maybe I shouldn’t let you come.” He rubbed his hand against your shorts, his dirty words making you throb desperately.

“Please,” You begged, fluttering your eyes. “I want to come so bad. I’m sorry for being bad.” You could feel how hard he was against your bare thigh, and you reached out to palm his erection just like what he was doing with you.

He stiffened with a small groan. “Fuck. You’re a fuckin’ wet little thing, aren’t ya’?”

You nodded quickly, reconnecting your lips together in a quick tangle, rocking your bodies together like the ocean currents against the sand. You tumbled together, furiously removing articles of pesky clothing until your naked bodies were on display. Your wet arousal shined between your thighs, his hard cock resting against your slit as you tongue danced with him.

He sat up and twisted you around so he could be on top, leaning down to kiss you hard, dark curls falling down like a curtain. “Put your legs on my shoulders.”

You blushed deeply at the demand, obeying his words as you did so. You whimpered when he looked down at your push, aligning the tip of his thick cock. “Beg me for it.” He pushed out a husky breath.

You groaned and rolled your head to the side, arching your back for me. “Please,”

He rubbed himself up and down, circling your clit that send electric shock waves into your body, making you shake. “More.”

“Please, please, Eddie,” You had tears in your eyes. “I want your cock so fucking bad, please- oh,” He pushed himself in, the both of you simultaneously moaning. He thrusted in, bottoming out, his balls against the curvature of your backside.

He grabbed your hands and put them above your head, holding them there tightly as he began pounding into you. You’d never done it in this position before, not with your legs like this. It only made it more exciting for you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” You cried, panting heavily as tears leaked from the corners of your eyes. He looked down to his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy, your arousal making him glisten. He grunted, the weight of his thrusts making the couch squeak across the floor.

“Oh, god!” You sobbed, trying to move your hands. “Right there! Just like that, please don’t stop!” Your praises only made him go harder, your legs still dangling on his shoulders. He fucked you hard and deep, his cock abusing your g spot. You knew you wouldn’t be able to walk after this.

Your orgasm brewed in your stomach, your legs shaking from how cruel he was with you. You loved it in every way. “Gonna be my good girl again?” His words came out shaky, still domineering.

“Mhm, yes!” You mewled, arching your back. “Oh, god, you feel so good, give it to me, give it to me-” You chanted, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone.

“Fuck,” His stomach warmed and the ball inside was tight, coming down to kiss your lips. He let go of one of your hands to slap your clit, making you squeal. “Bad girl.” He trembled, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Been a bad- shit, bad little girl,”

“I’m close.” You cried, singing whimpers of songs that made him climb the ladder to release. “Almost, almost,”

Both of you came simultaneously, you sobbed and whimpered with you, his hips moving slower, but deep to ride through the release. He collapsed on top of you, his softening cock still inside of you. Your vision was blurry, your legs falling off his shoulders. Your breathing was erratic like you had been punched in the gut.

He gave you a wet kiss on the side of your neck, a tired graze of his lips that tickled. “Still alive?”

You chuckled, holding out a thumbs up to him.

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daddydraco0 · 2 years ago

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Sweet Dreams…

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY 🔞 Minors get the heck outta here. SMUT…thigh riding, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), some perineal play if you look closely, praise kink if you squint I guess?

Summary: Eddie is a sleepy boy but can’t let his girl go without some relief…

A/N: Just some horny little writing about sleepy sexy times with Eddie. Because, who doesn’t want that? Hope you enjoy! If you feel like reblogging I’ll be your bestie forever! 😘

•••

Eddie is tired.

Really tired.

So tired, even his eyelashes are sleepy.

You could tell he was exhausted the second he’d shuffled through the door earlier tonight, kicking off his boots with a groan, worn out muscles limp as his arms curl around your shoulders, lips pressing a tender kiss to your temple before he headed to the shower hoping to ease his weary limbs. Working a double at the car shop had really taken it out of him. Which is a crying shame, because all you’ve been able to think about today is getting your hands on him. Perhaps that would have to wait, or so you thought…

Ordering Eddie to change into something comfy, you insist on a movie night cuddled on the bed while finishing up leftovers from yesterdays take out order. After eating, you settle down with your head in his lap, cheek resting on his broad thighs, a comfortable silence filling the dark room as you watch the actors stumble through clunky dialogue in a movie neither you will even remember the name of by tomorrow. Eddie’s breathing is slow and deep, palm warm and heavy as it lay on your shoulder, thumb stroking idly across your skin.

Maybe it’s the balmy summer heat, or the soft sliver of moonlight streaming in through the uncovered window bathing your room in a gentle white glow, but as the movie draws to a close you find yourself becoming a little…restless. Face nuzzling closer into his thigh, hips angling further into the mattress. You don’t want to bother Eddie with your neediness, he’s already half asleep, so you’ve been silently clenching your thighs for the last half hour, adjusting your position in the search for friction to give yourself some relief.

“Somethin’ bothering you, pretty girl?”

His voice is gravel in his throat, you feel it echo through his body, vibrations in your ear only serving to increase your discomfort. The sudden press of his palm against the side of your head makes you close your eyes in desperation.

“No…” you whisper, fully aware he knows you well enough to see through the lie “…I’m fine.”

Eddie’s fingers sweep loose hair back off your shoulder, the tickle coupled with him grazing your exposed skin has you unsuccessfully biting back a whimper. You can practically hear him smirking in the darkness.

“I know what you want, baby, can read you like a book.”

Huffing out a sigh, you rise up on one elbow to face him. He’s looking down at you, curls wild and a sleepy smile tugging his mouth up at the corners. The bastard is gorgeous even when he should look a mess. You bite down on your bottom lip, one eye scrunching closed at being caught out.

“M’sorry, can’t help it. I’m just insanely riled up today. Must be a full moon or something, I dunno…”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you had a really long day, and I didn’t wanna put any pressure on you. I know you’re tired…”

You drop your frustrated gaze to a spot below his armpit and refuse to glance back up. A deep frown furrows his brow, finger and thumb gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him as he clicks his tongue disapprovingly off his teeth.

“Well, now, princess…that just won’t do.”

You topple on your side with a squeak as Eddie suddenly shifts to wriggle backwards, sitting upright against the head of the bed and wincing slightly as his aching muscles protest against the movement. Looking at you pointedly, he pats his left thigh. You quirk a brow at him curiously.

“Just because I’m too exhausted to give you what you need, doesn’t mean you can’t still get it…”

You glance from his tired eyes, down to his big thigh and back up again.

“Are you sure?”

He extends his arms to help bring you to your knees, lacing your fingers with his as he keeps you balanced while you shuffle forward to straddle his leg.

“Wouldn’t have mentioned it if I wasn’t, angel. As far as I’m concerned, this is a win-win”

“Yeah?” Your teeth roll over your bottom lip, a flutter of excitement dancing in your belly.

“Hell yeah!” He grins up at you, head resting back on the wall “You get to enjoy yourself, and I get to watch while you do it. That’s some sexy shit right there, sweetheart.”

It’s something you’ve wanted to try with Eddie for a while, but never quite found the right words to ask for. You nod your head, excited, allowing yourself to rest your weight fully onto him. Immediately, the simple pressure of his wide thigh against your thin pyjama shorts is enough to send a surge of heat dancing up your spine.

Resting your hands on his shoulders to get comfortable, you lean in for a kiss, capturing his bottom lip between yours and dragging a sleepy little growl from his throat. He guides you slightly higher up his thigh, the shift in angle pushing your clothed clit tight against his leg making you whimper helplessly against his mouth. The rumble of Eddie’s low chuckle vibrates warmly in his chest.

“Don’t hold back, baby. It’s just me.” He murmurs reassuringly, hands resting firm either side of your hips, urging you to move.

The roll of your pelvis is tentative at first, figuring out what pressure and speed work for you. Settling into a rhythm, the friction builds a delicious pressure low in your belly. You feel yourself getting wetter with each grind against Eddie’s thigh. An appreciative little groan from beneath you has your eyes opening to see him staring right between your legs - at the little damp spot you’re marking him with.

His hand on the small of your back brings you towards his mouth, tongue sliding wantonly between your lips with a fiery possessiveness that makes you rub faster and tighter circles full of need against his thigh. You feel a coil tightening, pulling at your insides until a sudden pulsing bursts from your core with a yelp.

You break away to gasp for breath but recover quickly, teeth tugging at your bottom lip again - a telltale sign.

“Need more, huh, princess?”

You nod mutely, skin prickling with warmth as Eddie’s hand comes up to cup your face. Keening into the contact with a soft mewl, Eddie looks up at you with hooded eyes full of adoration. Pupils blown so wide, the black has eaten up the soft brown puddles that normally reside there. Tapping gently on your hips, you rise off him just enough so he can ease your sodden shorts down your thighs. With a wriggle, they’re kicked off your ankles and flung somewhere towards the foot of the bed.

He grabs a palmful of your ass cheek and squeezes harshly, pulling you flush to his chest, mouth hot and eager on the column of your neck. It has you choking out a soft moan, head craning to the side giving more of yourself to him. Eddie sucks, bites, and soothes with his tongue repeatedly until your breaths are little more than thready little pants in his ear.

Reaching to smooth the damp hairs from your forehead, he eases you back down towards his thigh, but you unexpectedly meet Eddie’s left hand as you settle back into position. Your whole body trembles at the sensation of his warm fingertips slowly circling your swollen clit.

“Shit, Eddie…” you hiss through your teeth.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He whispers, two fingers pressing into you deliciously as he guides your hips down the rest of the way until you’re again straddled over his leg. This time feeling full and stretched from the inside. With a soft hum, you let yourself rock gently against him, clit barely skimming the solid heel of his palm, teasing yourself and drawing out a groan of pleasure.

Eddie’s free hand strokes down your cheek, thumb grazing your bottom lip and pulling down gently until it snaps back up with a pop. A lazy smile stretches his face. The gentle tap of his index and middle fingers makes you slack jawed, inviting him in. Sucking earnestly, your tongue laps and circles the pads of his fingers with a desperate moan.

“Mmm, so fucking beautiful watching you make a mess all over me, baby. Such a good girl.”

A loud whine escapes your throat at the praise, fuelling your movements and making you grind down on his thigh more eagerly in search of the friction you crave. Eddie crooks his fingers inside you so they’re caressing your sweet spot, pushing the flat of his palm against you at the same time and sending goosebumps scattering across your skin.

You want to scream his name, tell him how good he’s making you feel, how fucking close you are to coming insanely hard, but your mouth is full of his fingers. You suck pitifully, drool beginning to leak from the edges of your lips as you moan around his digits. Eddie swallows hard, running his tongue slowly over his bottom lip as he removes his hand from your mouth, gliding down to pinch at your nipples through your bunched up top just as you start to clench furiously around his fingers.

“Eddie…Eddie - oh my god…”

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

“So good, I-I’m gonna…”

“You gonna come for me, angel?” He almost sounds like he’s mocking you, a teasing lilt to his words. Before you can register the tone, you feel his thumb pressing tight circles on your clit and it’s game over.

There’s little warning as your second climax hits you like a truck, a dizzying mix of heat and pressure releasing in waves from your abdomen, shooting down your limbs and making your body fizz all the way to the tips of your fingers.

“Fuckfuckfuuuuck-“ you collapse against Eddie’s shoulder, chest heaving, the sound of blood whooshing in your ears and the feel of his lips grazing over your cheekbones.

“Atta girl…damn that was sexy”

You stay that way in the darkness for a while, catching your breath until you feel him begin to tense uncomfortably beneath you. Rearing back, you look down at Eddie and see his apologetic face.

“Sweetheart…I’m kinda cramping up here…”

“Shit, sorry…” You move to ease off his fingers with a hiss, pouting at the loss of fullness.

He gives you a sympathetic grin and tugs you close to his chest, shuffling the both of you to lay back down with a deep hum of satisfaction.

“We are definitely doing that again…”

He laughs, fingers tangling in your hair before pressing a torrent of little kisses to the top of your head, nose burying itself in your hair. You sigh contentedly, reaching an arm snugly around his waist and nuzzling in close to his warm body. His chest rises, and Eddie lets out a little yawn. Adjusting your position to get comfortable and let him sleep, your knee happens to nudge a rather prominent part of his body.

“Oh, hello there, Mr Munson…what is this?” You tease with a giggle, fingers travelling to trace over the top of his pyjama pants.

“S’not my fault…” His eyes are half closed, sleep beckoning, but there’s humour in his slowly spoken words “…you looked very pretty upon my thigh, and I am but a simple man.”

Eddie is losing the battle to stay awake, but you know if he falls asleep with a massive erection he’s going to be very uncomfortable when morning swings around and he’s inevitability still hard as a rock. You, of course, feel duty bound as his girlfriend to ensure that doesn’t happen. It’s only fair.

He notices the mattress dip beside him, the weight of your body settling between his legs causing him to force his eyes back open.

“What are you doin’ down there, sweet girl?”

“Won’t be able to sleep if I’m the only one who’s had all the fun, Eds.”

“Baby, you don’t_”

You cut him off by slipping your fingers past the hem of his pants, warm lips pressing softly into the trail of hair leading down from his stomach. Tugging them down gently, you free Eddie from his boxers, salivating as his dick kicks up in greeting.

“Just close your eyes and enjoy the ride, handsome.” You whisper, letting your mouth kiss a warm path between his thighs until your nose nudges his tight balls, tongue reaching to sweep across them teasingly.

A loud groan falls from his lips, and you smile to yourself. Your eyes flick up to watch Eddie’s arms stretch above his head, where he rests one hand in his curls, the other gripping his pillow so tightly his knuckles are white. The skin of his stomach is taut and mouth-wateringly smooth. White light from the moon outside dances over the ink of his tattoos, highlighting every muscle and sinew of his tired body. Put simply, Eddie looks like a fucking work of art laid before you. He deserves to be treated and adored like one.

You lick a wet stripe up his length, closing your mouth over his tip, swirling your tongue over the head and sucking slowly before letting him fall from your lips with a little pop. You do this repeatedly until he moans from deep in his gut, then immediately you drop to take one ball in your mouth. Eddie sucks a huff of air between his teeth and you decide to let your hand wander further south. Your fingers press experimentally on the sensitive spot just below his balls.

A strangled groan ripped from Eddie’s core confirms your long held suspicions that he’d like it. You make a mental note to revisit that in greater depth another time. Leaving one hand pressing tiny, firm circles there, you move the other to stroke up and down his aching dick. Sweeping your damp palm over and around, he whimpers pitifully above you, thighs already clenching in anticipation of your next move.

You change position, lifting yourself slightly higher on your forearms, taking his entire length in your mouth. The warm, wet sensation instantly makes Eddie buck his hips, forcing himself to the back of your throat. You manage not to gag, instead clutching at his thighs to pin him to the mattress as you hold his throbbing cock in place, full and heavy on your tongue. Hollowing your cheeks, you hum into his dick and bob your head quickly, feeling him nudging your throat with each movement before drawing back once and sucking him all the way in again. And again. And again…

Eddie’s breathing hitches and a long, deep moan tumbles from his lips. His hands come down to cup each side of your head, stilling your actions. You know what he wants, and you’re going to let him do it. Knowing he won’t move an inch until you give him the go ahead, you hum your approval wantonly around him. Fingers grazing against your scalp, he keeps you in place and fucks up into your mouth. Short, desperate thrusts as you concentrate on breathing through your nose, your own thighs clenching together again as his dick kicks up.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, baby…ohmygod” He’s a babbling mess, body shivering with overstimulation beneath you “shitshitshit…”

He comes down your throat with a high pitched whine, and you willingly take everything, sucking eagerly as you start to pull off him, making sure he has nothing left to give.

Eddie lays panting, whimpering into the darkness as you gently tuck his softening cock away and replace his pyjama pants. He has one arm flung over his face, which falls to your cheek once you wriggle your way back alongside his body. You grin at him while swiping the back of your hand across your mouth.

“Filthy girl.” He whispers, thumb catching at the corner of your mouth. His eyes have closed before he’s finished saying the words, hand dropping softly to his chest as he finally succumbs to sleep.

Nestling your head on the pillow next to his, you take a second to watch him in the silence. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips and your heart swells in your chest as you whisper into his hair.

“Sweet dreams, Eddie…”

•••

Thanks for reading! 🥰

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daddydraco0 · 2 years ago

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i can take him (not in a fight).

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daddydraco0 · 2 years ago

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OBX 2x08 | 3x10

At least he got it right this time.

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daddydraco0 · 2 years ago

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Drew and Rafe can spit in my mouth and I'll swallow it on my knees and say thank you

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daddydraco0 · 2 years ago

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𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 𝐉.𝐌.

requested?: yep

summary: you go camping with the pogues and share a tent with JJ

warnings: language, kinda creepy forest idk, kissing, fluff and bantering

wc: 2.3k (longest fic i've ever written hell ye)

gif is not mine, creds to the owner!!

“Are you sure you’re okay sharing a tent with JJ?” Kie asked as she handed her bags to Pope who placed them neatly in the back of the van.

You all had collectively made plans to go camping for the weekend although you didn’t really enjoy it. But you had decided to cast your dislike for camping aside and at least try to have fun instead. You and JJ were the only people in the group that we're not dating anyone. John B and Sarah were sharing one and so were Kie and Pope. So you were left with the blonde tan surfer who was too cocky for his own good.

“Why wouldn’t she be? I’m amazing. I’ll even sing you a lullaby, Y/N.” JJ shouted from the front seat. He had called shotgun before Sarah could so now the girl couldn’t sit next to her boyfriend and she was definitely pissed.

“On second thought, no. I think I’ll pass. I’m sure I can find a nice tree to sleep under,” you joked as you handed your stuff to Pope as well and then climbed into John B’s van, sitting next to Sarah who was shooting angry glances at JJ.

“No to sharing a tent with me or the lullaby? You gotta choose.”

“Please, for the love of God, shut up.”

“Someone’s mad,” he mumbled but not so quietly.

“Yeah, dipshit, she’s not the only one,” Sarah chimed in.

Soon everything was packed and ready to go. John B turned on the car and drove in the direction of the campsite you had chosen. It was away from the town, quite private and perfect for a few teens to have fun and let loose.

Once you arrived, John B and JJ started gathering wood to make a fire and the rest of you started setting up the tents and everything you needed for sleeping.

“Okay but seriously if JJ starts to get too annoying you can always come and join us in our tent.”

“He’s always too annoying.”

“I heard that!” JJ yelled from somewhere in the woods making you roll your eyes but chuckle.

You actually didn’t mind sharing a tent with him. And the reason was quite simple really. You liked him, had a crush on him or whatever you want to call it.

You finally acknowledged your feelings for him a couple of years ago when he came back from surfing camp and you realised just how much you had missed him. Plus he had gotten a lot taller over the summer which made you swoon even harder.

But you had known him since literally forever. You couldn't remember a time when he wasn’t in your life. He had always been there. Always supporting you, always cheering you on. If you looked up the definition of “Y/N’s best friend” on the internet pictures of JJ would show up. You were thick as thieves. Partners in crime. The bickering and annoying was your love language, your way of telling each other you cared.

“But don’t worry, I’ll manage. I’ll make sure he smokes a lot so he'll fall asleep as soon as he lays down.”

Your friends laughed and continued the task at hand.

“I think a deadly bug just bit me!” JJ yelled as he ran over to you, dropping all of the gathered wood in the process. John B sighed in the distance as he started picking up after him.

“Show me.” You held out your hand and he placed his in yours, vaguely pointing at the bite. He had his head turned away, not looking at the bite himself.

“How bad is it? How long do I have left? I love you guys.”

“JJ, that’s a mosquito bite.”

He whipped his head around, finally looking at the bite and then you. Everyone laughed at him.

“So I’m not gonna die?”

You shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Only time will tell.”

He gave you a look. “You think you’re so funny, huh?”

You giggled. “I do.”

He rolled his eyes and walked over to where John B had started setting up the fireplace while JJ was being dramatic over a mosquito bite. How had this boy made it so far in life was a thing you wondered a lot about.

Finally the tents were set up and everything was ready for the night. Everyone sat around the cozy fire, drinks in hand.

The sky was getting darker by the minute and due to the sun setting the temperature was dropping as well. You didn’t even notice how cold it had gotten until Sarah offered to bring everyone blankets from the van.

“It’s okay, I think we’re gonna go to sleep anyways,” Kie said, Pope nodding in agreement.

Sarah then looked at her boyfriend, you and JJ, eyebrows raised in question.

“I’m good, I’ve got Y/N keeping me warm.” JJ leaned closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder. You ignored the way your heart jumped and pushed him away gently.

“He’s just too embarrassed to say that he wants a blanket. I’ll take one though.”

“If by embarrassed you mean that I’m so hot I don’t even need a blanket then you’re absolutely right.”

“Bring him one,” you said to Sarah who then went to retrieve the said blankets for the 4 of you.

“I don’t want one though.”

“You need one.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Can you guys stop whatever this is and shut up for just a minute?” John B interrupted. “I’m so tired of you two.”

“He’s cranky,” JJ said under his breath for only the two of you to hear. It made you giggle and due to that John B gave you a warning glare.

“Okay, here are your blankets.” Sarah handed you yours but threw JJ’s into his face.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“For annoying the shit out of us.” She sat next to John be and he helped her wrap a blanket around the both of them.

JJ gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “How dare you!? Y/N tell me she’s lying.”

“I have to agree with her on this one. You are kind of annoying.”

“I can’t believe this. My own friends hurting me like this.”

You shoved a stick and a marshmallow into his hands. “Stop being dramatic and roast this marshmallow for me, please.”

“And now I’m your slave. You’re unbelievable,” he said but still put the marshmallow on the stick and started roasting it for you.

“Your hands are longer than mine. Plus why should I do it when you can do it for me.”

Sarah agreed. “She makes a fair point.”

JJ handed you your marshmallow which was roasted just how you liked it. But before you could take a bite he leaned over and bit half of the marshmallow off the stick.

You looked at him in disbelief. “Hey!”

He smiled at you sheepishly, mouth full of the candy and lips covered with it. “That’s what you get for bullying me.”

“I hate you so much right now.”

He munched on the candy but you could still see the smirk on his face. “You love me.”

“You ate half of my marshmallow, I’ve never hated you more.”

In the corner of your eye you saw Sarah whisper something in John B’s ear and then they stood up, blanket still tightly wrapped around them.

“We’re going to our tent as well. Good night!”

“Good night!”

“I can’t believe these idiots are all going to sleep so early. Relationships turn you into old people, I guess.”

“It’s almost midnight, JJ.”

“So? That should be like 6 pm for us.”

You fell into comfortable silence as you roasted some more marshmallows on the dying fire which would soon turn into a smoking pile of ashes.

Suddenly you heard a noise in the woods. It was like a stick had snapped in half. It startled you to say the least. Your head snapped in the direction of where you thought you heard the sound coming from.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That sound.”

“What sound?”

You slapped your hand over his mouth as another snap came from somewhere. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come in the first place,” you whispered.

He licked the inside of your hand which made you pull it away from his mouth in disgust. “Ew, JJ.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean like spending the night in the woods. It’s scary as hell. Someone’s out there right now, just looking at us, taunting us. It could be a murderer or some creep, you know.”

“Or a squirrel.”

“Or a bear.”

“Or a rat.”

“I don’t honestly know which would be worse right now.”

“Rat, obviously. Those little shits ruin everything. But seriously, it’s probably nothing. Just the forest doing its own thing.” JJ said and placed his warm hand on your blanket-covered thigh. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture but you couldn’t help but wonder if it could mean something more.

“I don’t wanna be out here and find out what that thing is though.”

As hard as it was, you stood up, his hand falling from your thigh back to his own lap, and pulled the blanket around yourself as tight as possible. You got chills from the slight fear you had but also the cold that was crawling under your skin making you shiver.

JJ threw some water into the fire pit to make sure the fire had completely died out. He then stood up too and followed you to your shared tent where you were already waiting for him.

“Hurry up. I don’t wanna be out here any longer.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, trust me. The scariest thing here is that ugly t-shirt you’re wearing.”

He zipped open the tent and let you enter it first but followed you close behind, careful not to let any bugs in.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“It’s ugly.”

“Fine, if it’s bothering you too much, I’ll take it off.” You grabbed the end of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing the bikini top you were wearing underneath.

You couldn’t see much in the dark tent but just enough to see JJ’s eyes linger on your figure a second too long.

He cleared his throat before he asked if you wouldn’t be too cold now.

“I have all these blankets,” you pointed at the pile next to you, “I think I’ll be fine.”

You were in fact not fine as the time passed. It had gotten so cold that you couldn’t feel your fingers or your toes anymore. And you were pretty sure that your lips had turned blue.

“I can hear your teeth clattering all the way to here.”

“Why aren’t you asleep already?”

“How am I supposed to fall asleep in a tent with a fucking woodchuck?”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just call me a woodchuck and try to get some sleep.”

You turned your back to him and curled yourself into a little ball to keep warm as much as possible.

A few minutes later you felt the pile of blankets on top of you lift and then JJ joining you under them.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you warm. I do not want to be taking care of you when you get sick.” You turned around under the blankets to face him. He pulled you closer to him. Your feet automatically intertwining with his.

“Jesus, woman! Your toes are cold as ice.”

You giggled at his reaction. “You should feel my hands.”

And so he did. “How the fuck are you this cold?”

“I don’t know.”

You snuggled closer even closer to him, inhaling his scent. “You smell good.” You didn’t even mean to say it but it just slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“And you were worried about there being creeps in the woods while the biggest creep of them all is right here beside me.”

“It’s not creepy, JJ.”

“Says the creep herself.”

You smacked his bare chest lightly as you chuckled.

“Please, keep those ice cubes away from me, Elsa,” he said, which made you place both of your hands flat onto his chest. He hissed at the contact of your cold hands.

“Why do you enjoy torturing me?”

“It’s fun.”

“I think you just enjoy torturing people in general.”

“Nope, just you.” Your voice got just a tiny bit quieter but he could tell. He could always see the slightest changes in your behaviour and appearance.

And he was slowly piecing everything together.

“Okay then, we’ll see if you enjoy this.” He hoped to God he was right about this.

You were about to ask him what he meant but you were cut off by his lips crashing into yours. You were caught off-guard for a second because, well, he kissed you. JJ Maybank kissed you. You had been waiting for this for so long that your brain just short-circuited. But luckily you composed yourself quickly and kissed him back.

Your hands flew into his hair and you pulled him flush against you, chest to chest. There was no room left between you two.

You had imagined about this many times before but none of the fantasies were as good as the real deal. He was kissing you with so much passion and emotion that there was no way that he thought of you as just his best friend. You were sure of it.

When you finally broke the kiss so you could breathe again, he rested his forehead against yours. A small gesture but it made your heart skip a beat.

“I very much enjoyed that.”

“Good. Did you enjoy that?”

“I did.”

“Good.”

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