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hairmetal666 · 1 month ago

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Eddie owns a record store, gets to talk about music everyday. Life is good. Great, actually.

He's consolidating the Christian rock section on a quiet Wednesday morning when it happens. A man with swoopy dark hair, tight dark blue jeans, and a plum Member's Only jacket walks in, and doesn't take his Ray Bans off even once he's solidly inside.

Eddie is awestruck. This dude is gorgeous. Heart stopping. He watches him browse in quiet astonishment, unable to say anything until he blurts, "Can I help you find something?"

The man smiles--Eddie's heart stops--and he says, "Nah, just browsing. Your sign caught my eye."

And he's still not quite with the program, the rich honey of the man's voice taking him totally by surprise. "Ah, oh, it did?" He manages after a few long beats. "Painted it myself."

"No shit? It's great."

"Thanks, man. I also think it's some of my finest work."

The guy laughs. "How can I know unless I see some of your other pieces?"

Eddie's face heats, but he's never been known for having good impulse control. "Maybe you'll get lucky."

Spots of pink bloom on the man's cheeks and the tips of his ears. "And here I was, thinking I was getting special treatment."

Eddie cocks his head, smiles big. "Well, the day's still young." It's so risky and stupid; no way this guy is queer, but he grins at Eddie, laughs a little too.

"That right? Well, tell me your latest recommendations."

"For you?" Eddie eyes him up and down. "Wham!"

The guy's laugh is warm and rich and Eddie wants to drown in it. "Big of you to say for a someone who's only listened to Enter Sandman for the last four months."

Eddie cackles, points a be-ringed finger. "It's a good song! A great record."

"Hey, I've got no problem with Metallica. I just don't think you should be casting aspersions on Wham!."

"Casting aspersions, do you have a word of the day calendar or some shit?"

"No! It's toilet paper."

Their snickers grow until they're both hysterical, needing to lean against a display to stay upright.

It's like he's living in a dream, hitting it off with a beautiful man who just happened to stumble into his store. They catch their breath and Eddie uses the time to grab a record off a nearby shelf.

"Here," he says. "Try this."

"Joni Mitchell?"

"Don't tell me, Wham! fan, that you're too cool for Joni."

"Nah, she's my best friend's favorite. How much do I owe you?"

"On the house," Eddie shrugs.

"Shit, that's generous. Thanks, man. Now, about your art--" He glances at the shiny watch on his wrist. "Fuck, is it really 3:15? Goddamnit, I gotta get going."

And Eddie wants to call him back, doesn't want this dream encounter to end, but he's dashing to the door--

And just like that, the man is gone, the only evidence it ever happened the lingering chime of the bell over the door.

The bell clatters again, and his head wrenches up hard enough it hurts his neck.

"Was that Steve Harrington?" the customer shrieks.

"No," he scoffs. Except. Except. The hair and the clothes and sunglasses and the face and his lips--

"No!?" He feels the way his eyes have gone wide with panic. He didn't just flirt with Steve Harrington. Of course not. Not ever. He would've recognized--

He runs to the racks of magazines in front of the register, grabbing the latest issue of People. The cover features a glossy, polished photo of the man who just left the store. The one who had the highest grossing movie of the summer alongside his co-star, Julia Roberts. The one who, according to the article within, is in Chicago right now shooting a new movie. The one who Eddie flirted with. The one who flirted back.

He groans and covers his face with his hands. At least he'll never see Steve Harrington again.

---

Harrington comes back.

The second time, he's wearing a jewel blue polo and fitted slacks, Ray Bans nowhere to be seen.

"Got anymore recommendations?" Steve asks.

"What?" Eddie's still trying to accept that Harrington came back.

"I finished Joni. It was good. Recommend something else for me."

Fully with the program, he reaches to the rack behind him, handing the vinyl to Steve without ever taking his eyes off him.

"Seriously?" Steve deadpans.

"Tell me you don't deserve it after last time."

Steve studies the cover of Metallica, a complicated look on his face. "Fine, but you have to listen to the album George Michael released last year."

He mimics getting shot in the heart. "After my magnanimous first suggestion, you dare to punish me with Freedom?"

"Think of it more as an opportunity."

"To regret every decision I've ever made?"

"To expand your musical horizons."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Fiiiine. It's a deal."

Steve beams. "Good! Ring me up."

And Eddie, he'd comp it again, but Steve gives him this look that tells him not to try it.

As they pass the magazine racks, Eddie points at one featuring Steve on the cover. "That thing you wore to the Vanity Fair party last month was hideous."

Steve snorts, then laughs. "Thanks. My stylist decided to go for something--"

"--terrible?--"

"Avant garde."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

Steve pays, throws Eddie one last smile, "next time?"

Eddie nods, already certain this time is the last one.

---

He keeps coming back.

Eddie tries not to read into it.

Steve is straight, famously has a girlfriend. former horror movie child star turned cinema wunderkind, Nancy Wheeler. They're always on the covers of the tabloids, in ever more improbable stories about affairs and secret babies and french countryside weddings.

But he keeps coming back. And eventually, they grab dinner. And that dinner becomes lunches, movies, clubs, concerts. Eddie's in paparazzi photos, and there's no speculation about their relationship. Steve has a girlfriend.

But sometimes. Sometimes Steve will rest his hand on Eddie's nape, his lower back, let it linger. He'll trace a finger down the tattoos on Eddie's forearms or the patches of his battle vest. He'll lean too close when they talk, unafraid to press their bodies together. And he catches Steve's eyes on his mouth more than once, his pupils wide.

Over the next few weeks, Steve's gaze on Eddie's mouth gets hotter, his looks longer, and it's killing him. All he wants to do, all he ever wants to do, is close the distance between them, appease the gnawing beast of desire in his chest.

But Steve has a girlfriend.

They don't talk about her, not even when he knows all about Steve's best friend, Robin, and the gang of kids who adopted him, or Joyce and Hopper, his surrogate parents. Never Nancy.

He tries not to read into it.

---

They're supposed to meet for dinner. Steve scored reservations at a trendy new restaurant, but Eddie's late. Astronomically, horrifically late. It's pouring rain, it takes fifteen minutes to get a cab, traffic is a nightmare.

Out of patience and time, he decides to run the last few blocks to the restaurant. By the time he reaches the building, he's soaked to the bone, spluttering harsh breaths through mouthfuls of rain.

Steve is walking in the opposite direction, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

"Steve?" He calls.

He turns and this is the first time Eddie's seen him angry. "You're late," Steve's eyes rake over him, and his face softens in an instant. He takes Eddie's wrist, leads him into an alley where the buildings are close enough to block some of the rain.

"What happened?"

"Traffic."

Steve's gaze go all soft and gentle, and Eddie's knees buckle a little. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Yeah, well." Eddie scoffs. "We can't all be beautiful movie stars."

"You're more beautiful than I could ever be, even soaking wet."

He shakes his head, ignoring the cascade of butterflies; Steve shouldn't say things like that. His vigorous movement sends wet strands of hair slapping him in the face.

Steve reaches out, softly brushes it back.

Eddie stops breathing.

Steve closes the distance between them.

What a thing, to be kissed by Steve Harrington. What a terrible, glorious thing.

He breaks it fast, face red, can't catch his breath. "Nancy," is all he can say.

"Nancy?"

"You have a girlfriend."

Steve's face scrunches. "She's not my girlfriend."

Eddie's mouth drops. "Yes, she is." They went to the Oscars together.

"Eddie." Steve takes a few steps back. "Eddie. I'm gay."

He laughs, an ugly honking thing. "C'mon. What could she possibly get out of that?"

Steve's eyes widen, eyebrows reaching his hairline, mouth pursed in a bitchy line. It takes Eddie a minute but, "Ohhhhh. So, it's all--?"

"It was the best way."

"But you're--?"

"I thought you clocked me immediately! Wham!???"

"That was because of the jacket!"

"Have you ever met a straight man who dresses like I do and likes George Michael??"

"That describes five dudes I see a day!"

"And you thought they were straight??"

Eddie stares into the middle distance, replaying some of those interactions, and--"Huh. Okay. I get hit on at work waaay more than I realized."

"For fuck's sake, Eddie!" He's shaking his head, but Eddie sees the way the corners of his mouth shake with suppressed laughter.

"I'm sorry! You have a very public straight relationship!"

Steve giggles, pulls Eddie close. "Is this okay?"

"So okay."

"You do like me back?"

"Are you kidding! Thought I was going insane, how much I want you."

"And now?"

"Come back to my place?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

And Eddie, he's seen Steve playing at love dozens of times, but this--right here, in a soggy, smelly alley where they're both soaking wet--it's more perfect than any movie.

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wonryllis · 6 months ago

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✶ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝒟𝐎𝐋𝐋? RICH BOY ENHYPEN PINNING AFTER YOU.

目录──────𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌.

𝓉𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗘 ⋅ enhypen showing that you're not just one of the girls. wordcount total 2882 (approx 0.4k each) ⭑ CONTAINS— female!reader, fluff, suggestive, lots of swearing. % strongly recommend listening to ›› the respective songs while reading! jungwon's is inspired by ␥ kavin and kaning. ( THE ARCHIVE? ) PLS REBLOG ><

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

ぃ ⏤ now playing. HELLGIRL BY ARI ABDUL

"shit. you gotta wear this one, angel," heeseung groans in satisfaction, ignorant and indifferent to the fact that all the store employees could hear him, someone who never brings over girls to places like these, going insane over one. and the fact that you were unable to wrap your head around this situation just yet.

it was surreal and it was nerve wrecking. but heeseung was adamant that he needed you.

needed you to dress so fucking gorgeous and stand by his side as his date for the night while he paraded around greeting his parents' guests. showing them that he is capable of being committed by bringing along a partner for the first time ever. that's what he tells you—

"is this really fine?" you ask again, hands dusting over the sleek satin hugging your skin in a way that it tickled. heeseung stands up and strides overs to where you stand, arms sliding around your waist to pull you against him. "it's more than fine, absolutely stunning," leaning into your neck to leave kisses, "and so hot," right infront of everyone, no one daring to say a word to him, except you.

you who has been an exception to all his rules, you who has made him want to do things he has never wanted to before. you who has swept him off his feet.

you push against his chest in an attempt to stop him,"we'll be late, should go now," he hums in a low growl, lips nipping right against your ear before he pulls away with much exasperation almost unsated. clicking his tongue in annoyance for the staff to hurry the billing once he's done admiring you. unable to stand that anyone beside him see you dressed so pretty.

"just smile and follow my lead," heeseung tells you once you arrive at the venue. giving you an encouraging look as he instructs the valet to wait until you seem calm enough to step out. that's what he tells you— heart eyes and odd actions speaking for themselves. his hands find your waist when you finally walk up the stairs, breath shaky as you pass the entrance.

"relax angel, 'm right here, we can leave whenever you want," he kisses the side of your head, lips lightly touching your styled hair. never caring about who's looking and who's thinking what. if only you knew it too.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

ぃ ⏤ now playing. STAY BY ARI ABDUL

"look behind you, princess," the voice incoming from your phone suddenly sounds too loud, paired with faint footsteps coming to a halt. jay's lips break into a wide smile when you turn around in an instant to look at him. your eyes following his hands holding an enormous bouquet of red roses, before you notice anything else.

before you notice the want in his eyes. the want for you.

"jay? i thought you were in— " you speak into the phone, eyes locked with his, but before you can finish he hangs up the call. approaching you with quick steps and immediately pulling you into a kiss. one that's short but deep enough to convey his feelings. "berlin? yeah, but i flew back for you," he breathes out against your lips.

"why?" "you know why love," his fingers twirl the hair falling into face, tucking them away and cupping your cheek as he gives you a smile before stepping away.

he waits for you to say something, to address his feelings but like always you avoid it and like always jay lets you. alas there will come a time when you would no longer be able to deny his love, so until then he will continue to show you all ways you own his heart in. his forever princess."what about that conference you were going to attend with your dad?" you ask, accepting his bouquet.

watching him with a soft giggle as he struggles to pull out a single rose and place it behind your ear. "don't worry about it," in a reassuring tone he leads you to his car. teasing you of a surprise each time you question where you are headed.

asking you to have your eyes closed while he leads you to the rooftop of a high-rise building owned by his family, illuminated by pretty lights and flowery wreaths, and a firework show worth a million.

all just for you.

to pose a smile on your face and to be the one to put it. to be the reason of your happiness and to be the person beside you in your best memories,"happy new year, princess," jay whispers into you ear as you open your eyes to see all of it. "jay this—" you gasp in a trance, gaze hooked on the sky while his is fixated in the way the fireworks shine against your pretty orbs and the gloss on your lips,"it's all for you,"

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

ぃ ⏤ now playing. MEDDLE ABOUT BY CHASE ATLANTIC

"you owe me. you can't keep avoiding me forever, doll," jake chuckles, noticing how you turn the other way after catching a glimpse of him. finding it adorable how you do everything you can to not cross paths with him.

leaving him no choice but to wait for you outside your university, leaning against his black lykan hypersport; attracting unwanted attention while his eyes only look for your cute panicked figure amidst the crowd.

"i told you it was a mistake—" you refute, throwing a glare at his smug face as he drives right beside you, following your every step, nonchalant about all the stares you both get as long as you agree to him taking you out. "get in the car," or the other way round, he's fine with both. frustrated and knowing you'd never be able to escape him, you decide to give in.

"you owe me lunch," jake grins as his eyes watch you get into the passenger seat just like the passenger princess you are.

his passenger princess. first and last in his beloved car.

"jake this— isn't this too—" your heart skips beats at the sight of the dock and the luxury cruise restaurant closing in, scared and nervous about how much you'd have to spend but jake just shushes you. getting out the car first and coming over to open the door for you; one hand holding yours and the other cushioning your head as you step out.

"just let me have your time and i'll let you off of staining my prada with coffee," he begs, afraid you'd walk out of here if he were to tell you the real reason. if he were to tell you that you have his heart and no matter what you do his feelings are not changing. if he were to tell you he wanted to take you out to all these places and spoil you rotten and occupy your mind like you occupy his.

if he were to tell you it was indeed not your fault for he bumped into you on purpose to find an excuse to talk to you.

"but—" jake shushes you again, fingers rubbing against your lips as he shakes his head before pulling out the chair for you and helping you sit properly,"don't think too much doll, just do as i say, please?" planning to keep you busy until the sun goes down so he can take you to for a ride on his yacht.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

ぃ ⏤ now playing. BABYDOLL BY ARI ABDUL

"fuck baby, don't cry like that," sunghoon panics, his fingers grazing under your eyes to gently wipe the tears. afraid if he's not careful enough, he'll break you. "as much as i love the way you look so pretty like this, tears are not for someone like you," he has no idea how to soothe your frantically crying figure, slouched in the passenger seat against the expensive leather of his aston martin.

his hands fumble around in an attempt to think of ways he could just make you feel better and smile for him. those adorable crinkle of your eyes that have him whipped.

fuming each time he thinks of the moron who took that opportunity away from him by making you sad. he swears if he finds him, he'll beat the living daylights out of him. remind him not to linger anywhere around his girl.

sunghoon softly cups your cheek in his palm and leans in to kiss you, lips moving slow and sensual, "forget him, let me make you happy," he whispers into your mouth once he pulls away, foreheads touching and hands caressing your face lovingly. he makes sure your belt is secured before driving off to one of the luxury malls in the city, ones where you need to be of a certain level to enter.

a place you probably could never have the chance to enter if it weren't for him.

"my princess gotta shop her sadness out, hmm?" sunghoon coos as he stops outside the building, watching you gape in surprise, surprised himself that you are yet to realize just how much you mean to him.

"come on, i'll buy you whatever you lay your eyes on," he insists before you have the chance to deny him.

his hands rest at the back of your waist, leading you inside after handing his keys to the valet. dropping a soft kiss on your temple when you watch his vip card being inspected with a nervous breath of how elite this place has to be.

and knowing how new you must feel to all this, sunghoon pulls you closer with the intention of making it known that this is how it's gonna be from now, "get used to it, baby," you're not his yet but he's gonna treat you like you are. after all it's only a matter of time before it happens.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

ぃ ⏤ now playing. GOOD GIRL BY THOMAS LAROSA

"good girl, you did a great job," sunoo pats your head teasingly amused at the confusion adorning your features. "sunoo, what were you doing there! you don't even have marketing?" the way you close in, demanding an explanation assures him that you indeed were affect by his presence, by the eye contact he held with you the entire time you were giving your presentation.

walking into the lecture hall in the middle of it as if he owned the place and taking a seat at a spot that directly put him in your line of sight. smirking, raising his brows and pushing his tongue against his cheeks to distract and annoy you.

"would you believe me if i said i came to see you?" his hands took ahold of your wrists playing with your fingers as he waited for you to answer.

"liar," you whisper, suddenly conscious of the implication behind his words and it makes him chuckle, of course what did he expect? you're hard to get, and perhaps that's the reason he feels so attracted, almost crazy over you.

like something he has to have, someone he has to have.

he takes a step closer, his varsity hat poking against the top of your head as his eyes bore into yours just the way they did inside earlier,"see? what do you want me to say then?" he whispers back, tone suddenly changing into a serious one. "you can't just enter any class like that," your innocent claim goes through him from one ear and falls through the other. how naive you are.

"i can if it's my dad's university," he can't help but chuckle at the expression on your face when you put the pieces together and realize it. all those times you came across him in places with strict attendance, it all made sense now.

"as adorably as you scold me, you're gonna see me everywhere you go," sunoo warns, leaning in impossibly close, lips hovering over yours,"you should stop fooling yourself baby,"

his hands move from your wrists to rest against the wall behind, voice dropping an octave,"and you should stop fooling around just because you can," you bite back, pressing your palm into his chest to push him back. "i'm fooling around because i want you, and i will have you," "you—" "we have a party this weekend at our summer villa, come with me?"

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

ぃ ⏤ now playing. SINNERS BY ARI ABDUL AND THOMAS LAROSA

"jungwon? what are you doing here? are you okay?" it makes jungwon happy to see you worrying about him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pant as he watches you walk around the counter to his figure by the door. finding his cerulean blue chevrolet corvette 2lz parked in his usual spot, and him still dressed in the armani and hermès set you saw him in an hour ago when he dropped you off at your uncle's flower shop.

"mhm, just wanted to see my pretty girl again," he grins cockily once you realize there's nothing wrong and he's just trying playing around like always.

albeit to jungwon, it's never been a play and you have never been a toy.

this has been his way of showing you that you're not just another girl he's chasing after; because yang jungwon has never chased as opposed to what you think. and to harbour such deep and honest feelings that compel him to do what he has never done, that should have given you the hint by now. perhaps he'll just have to try a tad bit harder.

"how do you wear this?" he struts inside, passing by you to the space behind the counter you previously stood at, dangling a lone apron by his pinky and raising his brows at you, waiting. "your clothes will get dirty!" your attempts to curb him fall through for jungwon's persistence to stay with you holds like a strong wall, incapable of budging.

"i don't really care," jungwon's hands loop around the strings in a way that has the apron falling off making you giggle as you give in and just step in to help him,"idiot, that's not how you do it," you mumble.

and all he can think of is how he wants to be your idiot.

"how does this look? i think it looks so pretty on you," he says, putting a messy wreath on your head. to jungwon there's always flowers blooming everywhere you go, sweet scent overtaking all his scenes believing that's how you intoxicated him.

you slap away his hands in a shy chuckle that he doesn't understand, did he say something wrong? not aware and quite literally clueless of his own effect. by the time the sun sets down, you're asleep with your head down on the counter, facing him. and jungwon admires the way you looks so pretty, prettier than any flower.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

ぃ ⏤ now playing. STUCKINMYBRAIN BY CHASE ATLANTIC

"riki?" oh. you're here? riki looks up at the sound of your footsteps getting closer, halting a metre away from him, like you always do, not too close, not too far and it drives him crazy. "what are you doing here?" you ask, confused to find him waiting outside your mundane apartment building with his out of place red ferrari sf90.

"uh, you left this in the car last time," he fumbles out a dior liquid blush, clearly brand new and a shade you have never used before.

"that's not mine," giggling, you walk over to the other side, opening the passenger seat door to fish out the gloss you actually did leave and waving it in the air to show him,"this is mine richboy," the soft sounds of laughter, your teasing voice.

his favorite thing in the world as of late.

you who has him smitten with infatuation, unable to get you off his mind no matter how much he tries. you who never gives him the answer he wants but never pushes him away either. you who makes him feel like a pathetic loser, you who makes him want to try as many times as he can to win your heart.

"it's a gift," he quickly improvises, wanting you to accept it, of getting a chance to give you something. "you're gifting me a blush?" you question and it throws him off, blush?,"wait, it's not a lipgloss— i, i had no idea, i have never—" riki swears, he really had no clue,"bought makeup?" he nods and it makes you burst into a fit of laughter again. it warms his heart, leaning against his car and watching you with eyes that speak volumes of his feelings.

feelings that anyone could notice, anyone but you.

he lets you revel in his silly naivety, content to know you are not longer sad as you were a few days ago.

"now this suits you pretty little face," he says once you seem to calm down, bewildered at his sudden compliment while he walks over to you.

cupping your face and caressing your cheeks,"so pretty," mumbling under his breath, loud enought to reach your ears,"it's boring when you cry, baby," his lips hover over your own as both of your heartbeats pick up in sync, breath getting caught up at the shift in the atmosphere. "let's go on a drive, we'll get you a bunch of pretty glosses to wear for me,"

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @snoopypupp @enhabooks @jjunae @criminalyun

#enhypen imagines #k-labels #SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME GET INSIDE HEESEUNG'S SCENARIO #the way i changed riki's part like five times ㅠㅠ #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #divider by saradika graphics

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sturnsreckless · 2 months ago

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𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔,, m.sturniolo

summary: cute things matt does in a relationship

warnings: mentions of slight insecurity

a/n. . . i was on the plane and thought of this so wrote it down in my notes app and im now writing it while waiting on my second plane and this song has been stuck in my head for weeks now. also i didn’t proof read this because i was rushing to get on my flight but i wanted to post it now

𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS HAS TO BE CUDDLING YOU NO MATTER WHAT

you finish your small skincare routine and put on your pyjamas before climbing into matt’s cozy bed, snuggling into the covers as you get tucked up under them.

matt follows right behind you, climbing into the warm bed. he immediately pulls you flush against him, wrapping his strong arms around your waist with his chest to your back.

you let out a content sigh as you feel his body relax into yours, you place your hands over his hand that is draped over your exposed stomach.

he nuzzles his head into your neck and lets out an equally content sound, his breath warm against your skin. his arms wrap even tighter around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“you just gotta be cuddling me, don’t ya?” you giggle out as you close your eyes, trying to fall into a deep sleep.

matt chuckles lightly against your shoulder, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. he pulls you even closer to him, his warm chest pressing firmly against your back.

“mhm you know it” he whispers out, leaving a kiss on your neck.

𝜗𝜚 HE ALWAYS WANTS TO LISTEN TO YOU, EVEN WHEN YOU THINK YOURE TALKING TOO MUCH

you had been talking matt’s ear off for the past hour about someone in your college — you didn’t even think about how bored matt must be, listening to you talking about the same topic for over an hour.

“then she said to me-“ you stop yourself as you check the time and realise how much you had spoke, you looked up at matt and saw he still had the same smile of adoration sitting on his face as he did an hour ago, “did i ramble on again…sorry” you awkwardly say, scratching the back of your neck.

matt chuckled softly at your comment, his eyes sparkling with love as he looked at you. he took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing circles against the back of your hand.

“don’t be sorry” he said with a warm smile, “i could listen to you talk for hours.”

a huge smile came onto your face at matt’s sweet compliment but insecurity quickly taking over you, “you sure… you sure i’m not talking your ears off? i know i yap on and on all the time… but you’re sure?” you ask with a hint of insecurity in your voice.

matt’s heart softened at the hint of insecurity in your voice. he gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as you laid on his shoulder in a comforting embrace.

“i’m absolutely sure.” he reassured you, his voice firm yet tender. “i love hearing about your day, about things you love, about anything and everything. it’s a part of who you are, and i love every bit of it.” he gave you a gentle squeeze before leaning forward to look into your eyes with complete sincerity.

𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS SURPRISES YOU WITH FLOWERS

he knows they’re your favourite and always makes sure to pick out the prettiest bunch. he gives you them before dates too, just so he can admire the way your face lights up when he gives you them.

at the moment, matt was out with nick and chris at a meeting. you were bored so you texted him just to see what he was up too.

| hey baby! where are youuuu? also see if you pass gas station on your way home could you pleaseee get me a blue slurpee????

you pressed send and waited for a reply. you weren’t expecting a reply straight away since he was at a meeting.

matt sees his phone light up with a text notification — once he saw it was from you, a smile lit up his face. the meeting he was just in was boring, your simple check-up made him feel better.

| heyyy we’re just leaving, don’t worry i’ll get you aslurpee. see you soon, i love you

matt sets his phone down in the cup holder after hitting send on his text. his attention goes back to the road as he turns in at 7-eleven to get you a slurpee and flowers.

he walks into the gas station and picks up a bunch of baby breaths and tulips for you, he then gets your blue slurpee, before he leaves he grabs a few bags of your favourite candies and paying, walking out the store and back to his car.

he hands the flowers over to chris and the bags of candies, sitting the slushie in the cup holder before driving off back home. he’s excited to get home and see the look on your face when he gives you the flowers.

he walks inside his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot as he has flowers and candy in one hand and the slurpee in the other, “hey baby, i’m back” he says walking to the desk and putting all the things he bought at the store down.

“oh my god… hey, you’re back” you say, putting down your phone and getting off his bed as you walk into his open arms.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he can’t help but bury his face against your neck, leaving light kisses there.

you felt shivers down your spine as he left kisses on your skin, “how was your meeting?” you asked.

“boring” he mumbled against your neck, still peppering light kisses there, “i missed you” he added quietly, nuzzling closer.

you let out a small giggle but your heart swelled at his comment, “matt, baby, you saw me before you left this morning” you said pulling back from him.

“i know… also i got you a present.” he said walking back over to the desk and picking up the flowers and your slurpee.

your eyes light up as you see the bunch of flowers in his hand and the blue slushy, “matt..they’re beautiful. thank you so much, i love you” you say as he holds the flowers out for you with a smile.

you take hold of the flowers, you admire them with the cheesiest smile on your face.

matt loved buying you flowers, it was his favourite thing to do.

𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS TAKING PHOTOS OF YOU WHEN YOURE NOT LOOKING BECAUSE HE THINKS YOU LOOK SO CUTE

you and matt are sat on the sofa, a little space between you two. you were sitting with your knees up as your phone leaned against your thighs, your hoodie pulled up to your chin. you were scrolling on pinterest and adding photos to your boards, you were in your own little world until you heard matt let out a giggle.

you looked over at him as he looked over at you before talking, “look at this cute picture i took of you when you weren’t looking! it’s so cute, you’re adorable” matt gushed with a smile over his face as he turns his phone towards you to show you the photo.

you squint your eyes slightly to get a better look at the photo but when you get a full view of it, your face turns to a deadpan expression. you don’t see the cuteness matt was talking about, all you saw were flaws.

your messy hair, the unflattering angle, your glasses sitting lob sided on your nose, your bare face with no makeup, and the big pimple on your forehead.

“dude. be so for real, that photo is fucking horrible” you say leaning back to your original position but still looking at matt as he turns his phone back round and admiring the photo.

he playfully kicks your leg with his foot as he giggles, “hey! i thought you looked really cute in this picture, why’re you so negative?” he tilted his head, a curious look in his eyes.

you squinted your eyes and quirked an eyebrow at his reply but you felt butterflies in your stomach as he still complimented you, “no matt! look at my hair, it’s a mess, you can see my double chin, my glasses are lop sided, and look at that fat pimple on my forehead! and i have no makeup on. i actually feel disgusted looking at that right now”

he rolls his eyes, “okay fine, your hair isn’t perfect. your glasses are slightly lop sided, i didn’t even notice the pimple and you look amazing without makeup! why would you be so disgusted at the picture you? you look so cute in it.” he glances between the picture and your face, genuinely not understanding what’s so bad about it.

you jokingly roll your eyes at his obliviousness, “it’s ugly as shit, i just look bad. that’s why im disgusted.” you giggled out.

matt sighs. he doesn’t believe you for a second, “i’ve seriously never thought you looked bad! you’re so pretty, and this picture does not change it one bit” he grins and pokes your cheek and moves your glasses up your nose slightly, “it’s a cute picture and you’re a cute person. get over it”

you lean your head back on the back of the sofa with a smile on your face, “fine, i give up. you win.” you say leaning your head on his shoulder, he leans his head to the side and kiss your forehead.

@sturnsreckless

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Text

Dizzy

summary: when your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual

cw: alcohol

modern au

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.7k words

You can always hear when James’ friends come over. The door opens and the sound of them comes pouring through into your flat, the boys always in the middle of bickering or joking or telling some incredibly animated story.

When you hear their noise late on a Friday night, you pause the movie on your laptop and head for the door, drawn towards their loudness. James’ friends are rowdier than anyone you hang out with, but it’s a happy sort of ruckus. They’re fun and hilarious and surprisingly kind, and you enjoy chatting when they come over.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Sirius sing-songs, spotting you as soon as you emerge from your room. You laugh at his scratchy, worn-out voice. He sounds like he’s probably been singing at the top of his lungs all night. Dark eyeliner has transferred to the skin under his eyes, but Sirius is the only person you know with his particular ability to make dishevelment look rock-and-roll instead of slobbish.

“Hi,” you say back, grinning at him. Your eyes search behind him to find Remus, just coming through the doorway. As always, he looks completely different from his other half; whereas Sirius has unmistakably just gotten home from a night out, Remus could just as easily have been at the library in his jeans and t-shirt, except for the faint black smudge where Sirius’ eyeliner has seemingly rubbed off on his cheek. Then you catch sight of James, drooping like an overwatered flower with his arm slung around Remus’ shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be alright,” Remus grunts, heaving your roommate through the entryway. He tries to send you a smile of greeting, but it’s more of a well-meaning grimace. “He just needs to drink some water.”

“I won,” Sirius says giddily, stumbling over and grabbing your arm. “I outdrank James Potter.”

There’s a nervous edge to the laugh that bubbles out of your throat. “That’s great, Sirius, congratulations.” You cast an alarmed look towards Remus. “You all had a competition?”

Remus shakes his head. “They had a competition.”

“I won,” James says suddenly, picking his head up as if revived from a deep sleep. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N, I’m the winner.”

Sirius makes a derisive sound. “You can’t even walk, Potter.”

“I can,” James defends himself, and slips his arm from around Remus’ shoulder. Both you and Remus put your hands out cautiously like when a toddler takes its first steps, but James totters safely to the couch, leaning against it like he’s just finished a marathon and directing a smug smile towards Sirius. “Suck it, Pads.”

Sirius’ lips curl impishly. His unsteady gaze settles on Remus, still hovering by the door. “Gotta get home to do that.”

“Alright,” Remus says quickly, stepping forward to take his boyfriend by the shoulders and steering him towards the door. “We’re gonna go home and get to bed—to sleep.” He’s blushing something fierce, and you do your absolute best not to smile. “Prongs.” James looks up from where he’s been toying with the fabric of your couch throw. “Drink some water, and then go to sleep, yeah?” Remus raises his brows, waiting for confirmation, and James presses a solemn hand to his heart.

“Your wish is my command, Moony-boy.”

Remus rolls his eyes but turns to go, sending you a quick goodnight with an apology embedded in his voice before he shuts the door behind him. You lock it, and turn back around to find James performing a lazy somersault over the back of the couch and onto the cushions.

“James,” you laugh, and he smiles up at you like he doesn’t know what’s so funny but is happy to be a part of it anyway, “do you want to come into the kitchen to have some water?”

James turns pensive. “Is that where you’re going?”

“Mhm.”

“Then sure.” He hops up a bit too fast, and has to put his arms out in front of him to regain his balance.

You take his forearm in your hand, knowing you won’t be able to support his weight if he really falls but hoping you can at least slow his descent, and begin walking him toward the kitchen. “Are you feeling dizzy?” you ask him.

James hums. “A bit. But in a good way, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway. “Well,” you say with certainty you can’t feel, “that’s good. Chill here for a second, okay?” You prop him up against the counter, and James melts against it instantly in that easy way he has, leaning back on his elbows and crossing his ankles in front of him. The edge of the counter has to be digging into his back, but James makes it look like the most comfortable spot in the flat.

You start to grab a glass from the cabinet but then think the better of it, opting for a less destructible plastic cup. You fill it with icy water from the tap.

“Alright.” You pass it to him. “Don’t drink it too fast.”

James takes the cup with a smile that’s really much sweeter than your tiny gesture warrants. Then he proceeds to slide the rest of the way down the counter, until he’s sitting with his legs spread out in front of him on the floor. After a moment, you decide to join him, crossing your legs under you and letting your back rest beside his. The floor just seems like the place to be right now.

For the first time since you’ve known him, James seems content to sit in silence, sipping at his water. Neither of you are looking at each other, or really anywhere in particular. It’s definitely a Friday night, more of the noise of voices and traffic making their way up to your flat than you hear on most days of the week, but your home itself is quiet. The light in the kitchen is dim, coming in from the lamp you’ve left on in the living room, and your body relaxes instinctively in the peaceful dark.

James has nearly emptied the cup when he says, “Hey,” as if he’s just remembered something important.

You look at him. “What?”

“There’s no ice in here.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did you want ice? I can put some in, I just thought you preferred drinks without ice.”

Even in the dim light, you can make out enough of James’ eyes to see the brown in them go absolutely molten. He turns toward you more fully, his shoulder and cheek squished up against the cabinets. “Aww, you knew.”

You laugh at him, his smushed cheek pushing his glasses up on his face and his bottom lip jutting out slightly. The effect is that he looks both worryingly drunk and decidedly endearing. “Of course I know,” you say. “We’re roommates. I’m bound to pick up on things.”

Your words do nothing to curb James’ adoration. “Still, you noticed,” he says, maudlin. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The word resounds in your head like the happy chime of a bell. James is always calling you that, but usually it seems thrown away, a light little endearment he tacks onto his addresses without thinking. This feels different. It lingers on his tongue like caramel, soft and sticky sweet. Sweetheart.

“Of course,” you say again, and you’re grateful for the poor lighting that’s hiding your blush. “Ready to go to bed?”

James looks at you like you’ve asked him to solve a calculus equation, thick brows knitting together. Maybe it’s the endearment still ringing in your head, but you really want to smooth the crease from between them with your thumb. You don’t.

“I dunno,” he says after a moment. “Are you tired?”

“A little,” you admit. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugs. “I could be.” And then he’s hauling himself up, an overly complicated process that involves getting his feet underneath him while he’s already using the counter to pull himself off the floor. You have to bite back a smile as you watch, and when he’s done James extends a hand to you. As if you’re the one who needs help.

You take it but don’t actually put any of your weight on him as you stand, grabbing his empty cup from the counter. James’ hand is big, engulfing yours easily, and the condensation from the cool water still lingers on his palm. He doesn’t let go as you start towards his bedroom. You tell yourself it’d be mean to pull away on your own.

“Oh!” he exclaims, once again like he’s discovered something fascinating. “I haven’t even asked—how’s your night been?”

You laugh again. You can never seem to stop laughing around James. “It’s been good, thanks. Not as eventful as yours, I take it.”

James hums in unhappy affirmation. “Lucky you.”

“Well, seems like you got the true night-out experience.” You bring him to sit on his bed, bending to untie his shoes for him and setting them by the door. “Do you wanna sleep in that or change into pajamas?” you ask, fighting the urge to tack on the honey that pushes at your lips.

There’s no deliberation there. “Pajama pants, at least. I can’t wear jeans in bed, m’not a monster.”

You smile to yourself, locating a pair of pajama pants on the floor and holding them up for him to see. “These okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

You toss them to him. James starts to strip, and you turn around quickly, going into the bathroom. “So, aside from the drinking contest, did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says lightly. You fill the cup with water from James’ sink and find a bottle of ibuprofen in the drawer underneath. “It wasn’t bad. Remus is so busy lately, it’s good to get to see him at all, and beating Sirius is always fun.” He gives a little laugh. “He’s such a sore loser.”

“He seemed to think he’d won,” you say, your tone teasingly dubious.

A harrumph. “If Remus doesn’t set him straight on that, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckle.

“You’ll tell ‘em, won’t you?”

“For sure. Do you have your pants on yet?”

“Oh. Yeah.” You go back into the bedroom to find James comfy under the covers, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me to tell you, sorry.”

“No worries.” You smile. He looks so sweet like this, curls splayed out around his head on the pillow the way a kid draws rays around the sun. You set the cup and pill bottle on his nightstand, using your proximity to study his face. His pupils are huge and unfocussed, and the smile he’s aiming at you is a bit too dopey for your liking. “You said you were dizzy…do you think you’re going to be sick?”

“No.” James starts to push himself up as if to make his point, then decides against it, resting his head against the edge of the mattress with a tiny grimace. “Maybe.”

“That’s okay,” you reassure him, grabbing a wastebasket from under his desk. “Here, I’m going to put this by the bed just in case, okay? And you’ve got water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.”

James doesn’t respond. He’s looking at you dazedly.

“James.” You tap his cheek lightly. “Do you understand? You need to use the wastebasket if you feel sick.”

His hand emerges from beneath the covers, fingers braceleting your wrist. “Stay with me,” he mumbles. You’re glad he’s definitely too out of it to feel the quick bumping of your pulse beneath his fingers. When you hesitate a second too long, James tightens his grip beseechingly. “Please, sweetheart?”

There it is again. Your brain buzzes in response.

“Alright,” you whisper, brushing a soothing touch against the inside of his forearm, and James releases you. “I was watching a movie before you got home. Want to finish it?”

He agrees, and you go across the hall, retrieving your laptop. You climb over him on the bed, pretending not to feel the brush of a big hand across your hip as though meant to steady you. You settle your laptop between the two of you and press play on the movie.

James leans over, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re always watching this,” he murmurs. “You don’t get tired of it?”

“Not really,” you reply. “It’s my favorite. But if you are, I can change it.”

He makes a humming sound, and you feel the vibrations in your shoulder. “No, s’alright. Bet you can quote half the film, though, can’t you?”

You grin. “I’m scared,” you say, in time with the actress on your screen. “I don’t wanna get hurt.” You can feel James smiling, his cheek smushing against your shoulder. You lower your voice into a gruff mockery of the male actor’s intonation. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

James makes a soft sound of amusement. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

You fall into an easy silence, blue light cast over your features as the familiar scenes play out quietly on your laptop. You keep sneaking glances at James, thinking he’s either about to fall asleep or be sick, but he’s watching the movie contentedly, head a solid but welcome weight on your shoulder. He’s evidently decided to discard the shirt he’d worn to the bar, and the skin of his bare shoulder is warm where it presses against your arm. He adjusts his head a little, and his curls tickle the underside of your jaw. You don’t know how he gets them so soft. Not through any strict regimen or product, apparently. One good thing about having a guy for a roommate is that he’s never the one who runs out the hot water; he’s in and out of the shower in ten minutes every time. And yet, if you look closely enough, you can usually find at least two or three perfect coils in his hair. Genetics, you suppose. James was blessed with a good lot of them.

The movie’s not half done before you’re yawning, your eyelids feeling like someone’s sewn fishing weights into them. You try not to shift, but your shoulders rise with the involuntary inhale, and James looks up at you. You yawn again, covering your mouth with one hand as a tear forms in the corner of your eye, squished out when you blink. You wipe it away.

“Wait,” James says. You go still, looking over at him curiously as he adjusts against the headboard of his bed, pushing himself further upright. He tilts his head. The back of his index finger brushes gently under your lashes. “You always get teary at night,” he says softly.

You know you should get out from under his touch, but you can’t make yourself. “I tear up a lot when I yawn.”

Just thinking about it has you yawning again, and James takes your face in his hand, catching the tear that falls from one eye.

“Don’t cry,” he begs you. “If you cry, I’ll cry.”

You take his wrist in your hand, giving him a small smile. “I’m not crying, James. I’m just tired.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss, feather-light, just next to your eye. You freeze, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Okay, m’sorry. You’re tired? Wanna go to sleep?”

You have to clear your throat to make sure your voice comes out right. “Sure.” It’s still a bit hoarse. “Wake me if you need anything, okay?”

James takes your hand, a willing captive between two of his as he draws it into his lap. He settles his head back onto your shoulder. “Okay. You’re too nice to me.”

“I’m not,” you say, before you can think the better of it. “You’re the nice one.”

James only hums.

You swallow. “Goodnight.”

You’re waiting for a response, the movie on your laptop just now getting to the scene where the love interests give in and confess their feelings for each other, when you feel a wet spot forming near the collar of your shirt. Slowly, careful not to jostle him, you tilt your head to look down at the source of the drool puddle.

James already asleep.

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