#but i guess thats just a coincidence | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

naniwatig3r · 29 days ago

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CONTOUR LINES (18+)

Mingyu x artstudent!Femreader

Summary: You’ve finally broken up with your boyfriend Mingyu. Ignoring him has been hard, but you were finally at peace. But he had other plans, as he shows up to the figure drawing class you T.A…. And as the model.

Warnings: Unexplained breakup (im lazy lol), angst, cute fluff sometimes, art school stress, public nudity, public unprotected penetrative sex (no one is around though!), quickie

a/n: this was a idea i got while messing around with my friend who has a thing for mingyu, lol.

Word count: uhhh, around 7k ? I can’t remember 😅

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Another miss call.

Great, you thought, the tenth missed call from your ex boyfriend Mingyu this week.

It’s been about a month since you broke up with your ex, Kim Mingyu. It was an odd pairing in the first place. You met him coincidentally in the quad the beginning of the year, as you sat at the edge of the school fountain. Your sketchbook open, as you drew the scenery and people around you. A normal activity you did as an arts student.

You were clearly in the zone, drawing the fold in a random college student’s arm, before a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Whoa, you can draw.”

Your eyes snap up, seeing a towering figure, completely blocking your view. No shit, you thought.

“Yeah, I guess.” You say plainly, hoping your short answer would deter this guy. But then the sunlight is back on the page you’re drawing, and you feel his warm presence sit right next to you. Maybe he’s just sitting down to sit down, so you try and finish your life drawing of the current student, but they were gone. Probably going to their next class.

Huffing, you still for a moment to put your pencil down.

“I wish I could draw like that,” You hear, as you glance to your side. Furrowing your eyebrows in irritation as the man leans over to stare directly into your sketchbook. “You’re a really good drawer.” He says in awe.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” You say curtly, as he continues to stare at your sketches like he’s at a museum. These sketches were nothing compared to a Degas or something, yet he stared at them like it was, his brown eyes flickering around in interest.

He clears his throat, as he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles, a toothy one where you notice how sharp his canines were. Cute.

He pulls his sleeve up from his wrist to his elbow, holding his large hand out, “Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.” He says, introducing himself. You nod, reluctantly shaking his hand, his grip tight and strong.

“Y/n.” You say back shortly, eyeing him, wondering how long this tall man was going to bother you.

He lets go of your hand, as he adjusts his position to turn more towards you. One leg over the other, leaning forward. His bangs falling so perfectly across his eyebrow, that it made you narrow your eyes. It’s crazy, people like this seriously exist huh?

“Do you do art or something?” No shit.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m a fine arts major.” You respond, giving him a strained polite smile. It felt like you had to, the way this guy has been beaming at you like a puppy as you give the driest replies.

He grins, “Whoa, no way. Thats cool,” He praises, “I’m—“

The rest of the meet cute didn’t matter.

After this, you kept bumping into him, coincidence you thought at first, but thinking back… he had no reason to be near the art school area of the campus.

He always asked to see your sketchbook, or whatever was in your portfolio folder as you tried to get to your studio. Even helping you carry your supplies and folders inside, and once he learned where you worked he came with iced coffee when he could.

At 3 am, he’d lay on the floor of your messy studio, watching you as you mix another color on your palette. Your sweatshirt pushed to your elbows, paint on your hands and face as you work on the gigantic canvas for your final.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” You say a bit softly, your eyes tired despite your multiple energy drinks. “It must be boring to watch me throw paint for the last few hours.”

He shakes his head, sitting up as he looks at you with his puppy like eyes. “No, I like it. You’re so focused…” He trails, “I didn’t think art would be this hard.”

You glare at him for that remark, making him immediately tread back. His mouth gaping open and closing like a fish, “Ah! Not like that it’s easy — just that you’re so passionate you know?” He explains, throwing his hands around.

Rolling your eyes, you put your brush back into the muddy cup of water. “Why? Engineering not doing it for you?” You ask lazily, as you pull your claw clip out of your hair. Massaging your scalp from the tension.

Mingyu’s eyes focused on you, his cheeks slightly flushing. Eyes roving over how strands of your hair effortlessly frame your face. He clears his throat, “Uh, no. I like it. I’ve always been good at studying, and I get the material so,” He says, as he scratches his head.

“But I guess, it’s different watching you. Your eyes are different when you’re drawing, painting, sculpting. Whatever.” He says quietly.

“Different?” You muse, standing up to stretch your legs. Mingyu following instinctively, his tall frame dwarfing you.

He nods, “Mhm, yeah. I thought art was just a major for people who didn’t want to do anything, but getting to know you…” he says, as he follows you to your studio table. As you open the most recent energy drink you got from the vending machine. “You just don’t stop. Like you’re meant to do it.” He breathes.

His genuine words make you raise an eyebrow, turning to him. You give him a small smile, making his heart rate jump. “Yeah? It’s like you, I think.” You say, taking a sip of that battery acid of a drink. “I’ve just been doing this since forever. Natural to keep going.” You say nonchalantly, but Mingyu looks at you like you’re a living genius.

“Thats whats so cool,” He gushes, “You’re just made to do this.” He says, as he glances at your current work in progress. A large canvas with pleasing colors, his eye being drawn to the right areas. The beautifully rendered figure, framed with all the right strokes.

He looks back at you, with such an adoration you think it’s hallucinations from doing so many allnighters.

“Ah,” he starts, as he moves his long legs to shuffle through his bag, pulling out some tupperware. “I forgot, I was making uh, some dinner earlier and I had leftovers.” He lies, knowing full well he made it for you. He turns around, opening the tupperware to reveal a lunch box of different side dishes and protein. It could rival any meal inspo on pinterest, as he even carefully cut out seaweed to make cute faces.

You snicker, making Mingyu’s cheeks pink. “Leftovers huh?” You say, as you grab the lunchbox from him. Your fingers brushing over his, a welcome warmth from the cold air conditioning of the studio. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I was just gonna make some ramen.”

“Yeah no problem,” He strains, smiling. “You need energy to keep on going right? At least eat well if you’re gonna sacrifice your sleep.”

You take a bite, and even though it was cold, you nod in approval at the taste. The annoyingly large man could cook. Your reaction makes Mingyu grin, as you can see shamelessly how much that did to his ego.

“Still, you should go you know?” You say, as you remember Mingyu talking about his week a few days ago as you painted. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

Oh? He doesn’t focus on the fact that you’re asking him to go. Only that you remembered his schedule. He grins, “You remembered huh?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course I did. You told me.” You say, your own cheeks reddening from how embarrassed you felt from Mingyu’s reaction. Why was he so excited?

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I was reviewing earlier. It’s in the afternoon anyways.”

You finish the lunchbox, washing it down with your energy drink before going to pick up a new large paint brush. “Fine by me then,” you sigh, not bothering to argue with him. It was weird the first time he accompanied you on an allnighter, but Mingyu’s presence became a normal occurrence since then.

And there he was, sitting obediently like a dog next to you as you continued painting. Your playlist ending hours ago, as the only sounds are the strokes of your brush, and the breathing of both of you.

It was like this for a while, until near the end of the year. This time, you were running out of steam.

Maybe it was all the all nighters the whole year, or the fact you got sick right before finals, but you were stuck in your studio once more. Slaving away as you work on your third painting of the night, trying to get your exhibition finished before sunlight.

You hear the sound of the door opening. He had his own key now — you copied one at one point since he always was knocking. Mingyu coming in with late night take out in one hand, clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, ready to tackle the night with you.

You don’t even bother looking behind you, his familiar presence and cologne already telling you who it is. “Hey,” He says softly, putting the food down as he notices your tired state. It was like you were running on fumes, the amount of empty redbulls and monsters around your studio telling him all he needed to know.

You grunt, “Yeah, hey.” You say tiredly, as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. Paint smearing on your cheek. Mingyu comes over with a napkin from the takeout container, huffing as he wipes your cheek with it.

“Whens the last time you took a break?” He asks, a bit worried. Despite hanging out with you for so long, he wouldn’t say he knew anything about art. But he knew you. And the way your wrist movements against the canvas were sluggish, and the way your eyebrows furrowed as the strokes didn’t land and look the way you wanted… he knew you were at your limit.

“Doesn’t matter, I have another painting after this.” You say roughly, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I should have painted when I was sick. At least worked on the concepts and colors so I didn’t have to figure it out right now.” You rant, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

Mingyu frowns, “No, y/n. What about a fifteen minute break? I got burgers, it’ll help.” He says, but your face isn’t budging, like the strict deadlines for the paintings.

You curse, “God, Mingyu, I can’t stop. All the fucking pieces look like shit, if I stall any longer I’ll never finish this ass of an exhibition.” You say shakily, as you haphazardly throw your brush into the water cup, the muddy water splashing out. You grab another brush to pick up a new color.

He looks around the 10 other pieces littered around the room drying, he doesn’t get it, and he never would. They all looked great, cohesive despite your protests. “Y/n, they look great. You gotta take a break you know? Maybe it’ll help. Maybe your eyes will like, reset or something. You’ve been looking at this painting for hours.” He says, trying to reason.

You don’t listen, as you flick your wrist harshly to create a quick line of color.

clack!

You wince, dropping your brush to clatter on the floor. Your wrist acting up at the worst time, as you curse under your breath. Mingyu’s hands go up instinctively to hold your wrist, holding it still.

“God, now my wrist is flaring up too. Great, just what I need!” You curse bitterly, your head down.

Mingyu holds your wrist gently, despite your angry state you don’t push him away as he gingerly inspects your wrist. “Hey, come on. Lets take a break, and then we can wrap your hand alright?” He says softly, trying to coax you.

He leans down to see your hidden face, and it breaks his heart. Hot tears welling in your eyes from stress, frustration, and the impending deadline.

He doesn’t think twice, leaning down to hold you into an embrace, pulling you off your stool into his arms. Tight, the tips of your shoes barely grazing the floor. You can’t help but cry into his shoulder, “God, why am I so bad? I can’t show anyone any of this,” You sob, as Mingyu rubs your back. His grip tightening around you, holding you close as you basically collapse into his arms.

“Hey, y/n, you’ve just been working too long. Lets take a break alright? It’ll look better once you rest your eyes a bit, I promise.” He coos, “I’ve got some burgers and sweet potato fries, even convinced them to give me extra —“

“Mingyu, why are you always here?” You ask bluntly, choking back your tears. Through the whole year you’ve been tolerating him getting closer. First, random conversations when you bumped into each other on campus, then visiting the art school, coming to your studio, staying to keep you company. You never once tried to push him away, but you didn’t understand how he hasn’t been turned off yet. Your all nighters, your insecurities, the way you reject his invitations to campus parties and events to work. It was all a mystery, especially as you crash out in his arms, over some acrylic and oil on canvas. This must look pathetic to him.

His eyes are a bit panicked at the question, “I uh, do you not want me to be?” He asks reluctantly, still holding you close.

You sniff, your hand against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie into your fist.

“No, I just... Thank you.” You say quietly into his chest, and Mingyu felt his head spin. You could definitely hear it, he thought, the way his heart was pounding out his chest. How you relied on him, telling him to stay. If it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning on him to stay up, he’d probably melt into a puddle on the floor.

Mingyu takes you to the table, helping you sit down on one of the comfier chairs. A foldable one with a pillow he brought at one point, so he could watch you comfortably. He boasted once — y/n look! Found this by the dumpster!

You let out a deep sigh as you sit down, Mingyu bending down to his knees to look at you eye level. A hand to your cheek as you close your eyes tiredly. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face.

You nod, “Yeah, um, sorry,” You sigh, “I’m just — I’m just stressed. I didn’t mean to have a breakdown in front of you.” You say apologetically, embarrassed by it. But he shakes his head, not affected by it. In fact, it probably caused him to fall harder, seeing how hard you work.

“Don’t apologize,” He says, pushing strands of your hair back. You look up at him, straight into his brown eyes. The way he looks at you so fondly, worried, that his bottom lip juts out slightly as he observes you. The way his fingers felt along your cheek, how he’s warmed you up in the cold room, brought takeout for you.

Fuck, how his hair is tousled under the hood, and the fact his face was a sight for sore eyes after looking at your paintings all day. Something with actual 3d planes staring at you, instead of flat canvas. Maybe it was the all nighters, the fact you’re on multiple energy drinks on an empty stomach, or that Mingyu is there for you.

You lean forward, shutting your eyes shut as you push your lips against his.

It’s warm, soft… might even get lost in it if—

You pull back after a second, as you see Mingyu’s wide eyes.

Oh fuck, did you read this wrong? Shit, at least you can blame it on lack of sleep—

A pair of lips crash into yours again, this time, you part yours as Mingyu’s warm lips mold into yours. Its warm, and comforting and everything nice, as you grab his collar to pull him closer. Making him stumble forward as he holds onto the edge of the chair to steady himself close to you.

You let out a soft breath as Mingyu snakes his free hand around to the small or your back, pushing you close as possible to him. Mingyu compensating for your lack of energy with his, as he kisses you deeply, something he’s always wanted to do. Every since he watched you draw random people at that campus fountain.

He pulls back as you pathetically try to chase his lips, as he kisses you chastely before speaking. “Y/n,” He breathes, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted to do that.” He confesses, as he holds your face in his large hands.

You smile softly, “Mingyu, I—“

The box of charcoals clatter, as you accidentally drop it right next to the table of supplies. Sheepishly you bow at the students in class, not meaning to disrupt their focus.

You bend down to pick up the charcoal. What are you doing? It may be the third figure drawing class today, but dropping a box of pencils as you recount your days with Mingyu was horrible. Terrible.

Especially when you boasted to one of your friends as you shared a meal, Ah, Kim Mingyu? Thats over. Lets just focus on grad review.

You sigh, standing back up as you slide the box of art supplies on the table. Checking the time, you slide the notifications of Mingyu’s missed calls away. It was five minutes before class started, where the hell was the model?

And as if on cue, the other T.A. comes skitting towards you, pushing her glasses up as she avoids the boxes of supplies around the room. “Ah, Y/n—“ She starts, talking quietly to not cause alarm.

She stops in front of you, as you furrow your brows. Today the professor wasn’t in. As the consistent T.A., she trusted you to handle today with no substitutes. It wasn’t anything hard. You just helped set up the drawing horses and supplies, adjusted the lights and made sure the models were comfortable. It was easier especially when another T.A. was assigned to assist you today.

“Hm? What?” You ask, as you dust your hands.

She takes a deep breath, “Um, well, the model got food poisoning.” She starts. Leaning in so other students didn’t hear. “I just learned this right now, she’s like in the bathroom in the main hall throwing up like crazy.”

You frown, “What? Is she okay?” You say, straightening up, walking towards the front door grabbing your jacket off one of the stray art horse chairs.

She follows clumsily, “She’s fine! But she can’t model for this class. I know you’re in charge, but I panicked and just called whoever was on the emergency model list.”

You stop, causing the other T.A. to bump into your back, with a little squeak. A small what should have been insignificant memory flooding back.

“You’re TAing now? Seriously?” Mingyu asks lightly, as he fiddles with a loose strand of your sweater, the rough pads of his fingers pulling on it.

You slap his hand away disapprovingly, causing him to pout. “Yeah, just for figure drawing. I want to make a little money anyways, but working at the campus cafe is too time consuming.” You respond, as you continue to draw in your sketchbook. Outlining the foliage in front of you with your pen.

“Hm, what would that mean?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap an arm around your shoulder. Careful not to disturb your drawing, as he rests his chin on your closer shoulder. Watching you draw was his favorite past time nowadays.

“Just like, setting up, taking care of the figure drawing models. Things like that.” You respond absentmindedly.

“Models? Like, thats a job?” He asks, making you crack a smile. You forget how normal people knew nothing about art. You’re just glad he was openminded about basically everything.

You turn to look at him, “Yeah, the school hires people to pose for drawing. Its for studying.” You respond, as you tap your pen against the tip of his nose, where his beloved mole resided. Making him scrunch his nose, the corners of his lips turning up.

“Actually, I should write the emergency contact list. The professor updates every semester of models to contact if theres no shows, and the et cetera. I should just do it now so I don’t forget —“

“Add me on there then.”

You blink.

“Huh, what?” You say confused, looking at him with raised brows.

He straightens up, “You heard me. Add my number to that list. It sounds interesting,” He defends, his tone light.

You shake your head, smiling. “Mingyu, you don’t get it. You have to stand there naked, and do different poses every five to thirty minutes. Its not an easy thing to do.” You say, dismissing his words as nonsense. Sometimes he was too eager to try things just because they existed in your world.

Mingyu doesn’t falter. “Yeah I know. I just, it sounds cool. Also having a bunch of people drawing me, I don’t know… sounds nice. Also its like emergency contact right?” He says shrugging, “It’s not like it’ll actually happen. I know you’d never call me if it was an emergency, but just add me on it. If all models decide they’re not feeling it that day.” He suggests lightly.

You stare at him still in disbelief, narrowing your eyes. He scoffs, leaning forward to lean his forehead against yours as a challenge. A little goofy smile on his face, “What? Come on. Just add me to the list.”

The rational side of you knew this would never actually happen. Mingyu had no qualifications, and besides, there was a dozen other numbers to call before him. So you suck it up, sighing, writing his name down. Just for the sake that he’d shut up about it.

“Okay, fine.”

Your heart beats, eyes wide as you try to calm yourself. You didn’t want to release your anger against this girl for trying to fix the situation. It was your fault, really, in the first place to put his number on there. But this never was something that has happened before.

“Which number picked up?” You ask calmly, clasping your hands together as you focus on not exploding on your fellow T.A.

“Uh, just called the first one. He said he was on campus so he was down, and we only have five minutes till class—“

“Jesus, his name please?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

Oh fuck. Fuuuucckkkkk.

Mouth wide, and panicked eyes, you start to speak, before you hear the opening of the classroom door. You turn, and your face practically goes pale.

There he was — Kim Mingyu, just in a simple coat and pants. His eyes immediately landing on you. Its only been a month, but he cut his hair. Slightly shorter than you remember, as you tilt your head.

Stop it. You have to act normal.

You take a deep breath, trying to act professional. There was no time to question why the hell he’d even pick up and walk all the way here. Or why your heart was beating so fast, just looking at him.

“Um, escort him to the dressing room area.” You start, prying your eyes from Mingyu to the other T.A. “There should be a clean robe there too.” You inform, patting her arm as you beeline straight away from them.

You find a haphazardly stacked amount of newsprint, focusing on making all the edges match as you calm your heart. It’s fine, it really is.

For some reason Mingyu was interested in figure drawing modeling before. Maybe he just wanted to cross that off his bucket list, and had nothing to do with you.

The other T.A. comes back to stand beside you, “Is he comfortable?” You ask.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just seems a little inexperienced,” She responds, scratching her cheek. “He asked if he had to take all his clothes off, and I was like, huh? Yeah? But other that that—“

“Yeah, alright.” You interrupt dryly. “Thank you. I’ll just take over after this.” You say, as you grab the timer from the table.

You walk towards the center, clearing your throat as the art students look up. “Right, hi. Professor Kang isn’t here today, but don’t mind. Today will be quite an easy day.” You start, crossing your arms.

Your eyes immediately follow to the ruffle of the dressing curtain, as Mingyu walks out in a fluffy robe. Brown eyes meet yours, and for a second you think this will be fine. Until the corners of his lips turn up, into a toothy grin only you knew so well.

That motherfucker. Bucket list my ass, he said yes just to mess with you!

You turn away sharply, focusing back on the class. “The model today is Kim Mingyu.” You say shortly, before stepping off the small platform.

You gesture for Mingyu to walk to the center, your face stone cold as you watch him step onto the platform.

He clears his throat, “Do I take the robe off now?” He asks cluelessly.

Great, just show everyone you have no clue what you’re doing. If this was a few months ago, it’d be cute. But Mingyu standing hopelessly waiting for instructions was annoying you, to say the least.

You nod, and immediately, he undoes his robe and lets it fall to the floor.

You can’t help but stare. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your body tense. Stop stop stop! You couldn’t give him a reaction. As an artist, it was normal to see naked bodies. It wasn’t a sexual thing, especially in figure drawing. But Mingyu wasn’t just an old man or something. He was a conventionally attractive, tall, well built man. In more places than one.

“Oh shit, he’s hot.” The other T.A. whispers to you, covering her mouth. You bite back your embarrassment, as you just send her a glare for her unprofessional reaction.

It doesn’t help that other people around the room are pleasantly surprised by Mingyu, as I see pink dusting around people’s cheeks. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Holy shit, a hot model. Is this real?”

“I thought we had a middle aged woman today. Bro… score!”

“I’ve never stared so closely.”

“Alright, warm ups. Ten one minute poses.” You say plainly, holding up the timer and pressing down on it. Immediately, Mingyu nods, springing into action.

His poses were something else. They were a bit awkward, as he stood there. First putting his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

But he started getting more comfortable. After the ten one minute poses were up, the other T.A. Adds a stool to the platform for Mingyu to sit on.

“One pose, 15 minutes.” You say, setting the timer again.

This time instead of looking at the ground, wall, or ceiling, he stared straight at you. His eyes unwavering. The sight makes your mouth go dry, as the studio lights enhance Mingyu’s features perfectly.

His face framed by the little curl of his bang, light bouncing off his tanned skin as the definition of his muscles are on display. The way his large shoulders balance his proportions, and his skin smooth and tightly wrapped around his toned torso. He always was working out, and it seemed like he kept that up, as your eyes trail from his abs to his bottom half. Your cheeks flushing as he’s so unabashedly bare in front of the whole room.

But it only propelled your anger. How could he? Just step into your domain — the art school wing — and just come here? Posing like a gangly weirdo, riding on his looks so none of the students complained. Staring straight into your eyes as a confrontation. So much it felt like he was telepathically speaking to you.

Why aren’t you returning my calls? Or, how does this make you feel? It was infuriating.

And as if satisfied in your attention on him, he smirks, like he won some imaginary battle. This idiot.

The timer rings, making you flinch against the supply table. Your cheeks flush slightly, as you clear your throat. “Another 6 poses, each 2 minutes.” You manage to choke out, pressing the timer.

As the figure session goes on for the next hour, Mingyu’s confidence was starting to irritate you to no end. At first what was awkward, was now overtly dramatic. His poses of showing off his muscles, flexing his back, it was too much. People were here to draw, not ogle.

You decided to play, not wanting Mingyu to have the upper hand. As Mingyu goes to pick up the robe off the ground, you yell, “Stop right there!”

Mingyu freezes immediately, mainly out of confusion. His eyes drifting to you, a slight furrow of his brows.

“Now, the model will stay still. Do you see how the arm connects to the shoulder blades? Please turn to a new paper and start focusing on that area.” You say, stopping Mingyu in an uncomfortable position in the name of education.

You eye how his leg starts to shake from holding it, but it only fuels you. “Now focus on the thigh muscle, we’ll hold this pose for another 3 minutes.” You say, a little glee seeping into your voice.

Mingyu’s eyes shooting up to glare at you, as you cock your head and smile.

You push Mingyu to do crazy things, like pretending to do a lay up for 10 minutes to talk about line of action. Or when you asked the students to move in closer to draw his face, having twenty people at once hyper fixate on his expression. Now, the class was fun. You completely turned it around.

The timer rings. “Alright, lunch break.” You say, as it’s half way through the 6 hour class.

Theres a collective sigh of relief, as students massage their wrists, and Mingyu putting his robe back on, but loosely. Letting his chest peek out through the fabric, as he walks around the room.

You watch as he circles, smiling and complimenting others.

“Wow, thats really good.”

“Whoa, really love how you drew that one.”

“Is that how I look? I’m flattered! Thanks.”

You huff, looking away as you catch a glimpse of him leaning over a pretty girl’s shoulder as she shows her sketches. Purposefully letting the loose robe drape his exposed chest as he examines the drawings.

Students get up to stretch their bones outside, getting lunch during the break. The other T.A. goes to check on something, leaving only you and Mingyu in the figure drawing room.

You stand, ignoring him as you walk towards the platform, readjusting the power of the studio lights. “Next part of the class is long poses,” You say, twisting the knob. “So it’ll be harsh lights. you just have to sit there, it’ll easy.”

You turn back around, Mingyu looking at you with a small smile, barely a yard away. His hands on his hips, as he looks down at you. “You know,” He drawls, his voice low. “This was a lot more fun than I thought.”

“Is it?” You respond bitterly, “Well I’m glad. Because you’re not gonna be paid for this.” You inform him, as Mingyu isn’t a real model signed with the school.

“Thats okay, I’m getting what I wanted anyways.”

You sigh, as you cross your arms. Deciding not to beat around the bush.

“What are you doing here, Mingyu?” You ask tiredly, finally looking at him straight, your brows furrowed. You boldly looking into his playful eyes.

His smug expression softens, almost reminiscent to how he would look at you before everything. He takes his bottom lip under his teeth, chewing as he looks at you.

“You seriously need me to answer that? Like always?” He says quietly, but with only you two in the studio, he could whisper from across the room and you’d still catch it.

“What, like you actually answer me with anything that makes sense?” You respond back tightly. Sighing, you relax your shoulders, biting your cheek as you glance away from him. A student’s messy pencil case catching your attention, albeit forced.

A deafening silence falls. Mingyu never really liked to fight anyways.

“You’re, you’re difficult, you know that?” He starts, as he ruffles his hair with his hand, as if that would release his pent up frustration. “When I got the random phone call that you guys needed a last minute model, I thought for a second it was intentional.”

He takes a step closer, “But of course not. You looked like you saw a ghost when I walked in.”

You gulp, “Well, to be fair, thats what you are now.” You say quietly. Avoiding his eyes.

“Oh? So I’m just dead to you?”

“No, that would be easier.” You snap, finally looking back to face his eyes. Mingyu’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows knitted, trying to figure you out like an abstract art piece.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a disappointed huff. “y/n.” He starts firmly, in a tone he barely used.

But of course, directed to you, making your skin crawl in the overly air conditioned room.

Hands on his hips, as he takes a long breath, his head facing down as he hides his expression. “For an artist, you’re really shit at expressing your feelings.” He sighs, his bangs hiding whatever you could gather from him.

“Fine.” He concludes, looking up, his shoulders more relaxed. “I’ll stop bothering you about it, since you’re so sure.” He says throwing his arms out. “On one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, wary of whatever condition he was gonna propose. Mingyu could be unpredictable when you pushed him, making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

“Draw me.” He says finally. He glances at the clock on the wall, “They still have that lunch break. So just draw me at least once, before everyone comes back.” He proposes, turning around to walk casually to the platform, as if he’s assuming you would just do it.

Is he serious? You weren’t even together anymore, and yet he wants a free commission from you? Thats crazy, like you’d ever —

“Fine.” You say curtly, “Since you’re so desperate for my attention anyways.” You quip, walking over to the supply table, making sure your shoes stomp against the hard floor. You swipe some spare paper, clipboard, and some charcoal.

The second you were at an art horse in front of Mingyu though, your fire waned slightly. The dead silence of the room was deafening, as you adjust your clipboard. The sound of the metal clips thumping against the paper, the feet of the art horse squeaking as you adjust sitting on the worn wood.

When you gaze up at Mingyu, it was obvious. He really was getting what he wanted, and it was your undivided attention.

Once ready, the charcoal in your hand, Mingyu sits down on the stool, eyes steady on you as he grips the already loose tie around his robe with his large hand. Letting it fall, as he exposes himself once more in the bright lights you set up yourself. He kicks the robe away off the platform, set on you drawing him like this.

You blink back any feelings that threaten to show on your face, readjusting the charcoal in your hand as you avoid Mingyu’s eyes, pressing down to finally start a line.

Its been a while since you last drew figures, and it usually took an hour of continuous drawing before you really found your pace in figure drawing sessions. But it was different this time.

Your heart beats in your ears, a silence of the room highlighting the sound of your charcoal smearing against the newsprint — the sounds of your breathing and of Mingyu’s, as time passes. Agonizingly slowly, yet a focus every artist aches for.

Your hand moves accordingly. Outlining the contour of his silhouette, the way his neck slopes, the soft lines that shape his abs he always was working on. Pressing for pressure with your charcoal as you indicate the weight of him sitting on the stool, hands in his laps loose as you capture his likeness with ease.

But the focus doesn’t last for long, especially when you flicker your eyes back to his. Already flicking a stroke to mimic his right eyelid, before you still. Pressing the tip of your charcoal into the paper, crumbling against the grain as you stare into his large brown eyes.

Fuck. What are you even doing?

Why are you drawing him so intently, when you vowed just a while ago that you never wanted to see Mingyu again?

Your breath hitches, as you raise your arm, flickering back to your drawing. Charcoal in the air, swinging to run a huge line through your figure of him, to smear it, to destroy it, to —

Your wrist stops mid air, as you feel a warm grip tightening around you. Eyes wide, you unfocus on the paper, to look up. Somehow in your tiny melt down Mingyu got down from the platform.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. Jaw tense, “You were just gonna ruin it, weren’t you?” He asks you quietly.

You can’t help but knit your brows, a pained expression forming that matches the one in his eyes.

The charcoal clatters out of your hand, landing on the floor in broken pieces.

Tears start welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “You’re right,” You start shakily, “I don’t know… how to address anything unless I’m drawing.” You say weakly.

Mingyu’s eyes soften slightly, swallowing hard as the bright lights highlight the contour of throat bobbing. “Yeah, seems like it.” He replies carefully. You expected him to use this as a told you so, maybe give you a smug smile, like, I knew you weren’t over me.

But Mingyu was never like that anyways. No matter how much he craved your attention, he also wanted your peace of mind. A hard thing to ask from an artist like you.

His grip on your wrist softens, as he kneels down, getting eye level with you as you still sit on the art horse. Holding your hand in his, rubbing a thumb over the veins on the back of your hand gently.

“I miss you.” You finally muster, your eyes focused on his.

“I miss you too.” He responds back, before cracking a small smile.

You strain your brows into a furrow, blinking back the warm tears you naturally formed from the vulnerable moment. A shaky huff also coming out of you, as you decide to lean forward.

Inching your face closer, until the tip of your noses brush, Mingyu stiffening slightly as you shyly graze your lips against his lips. A small breath escaping his lips, fanning over yours before you finally part them.

Your lips against his — it was like home. Finding your way back after such a tumultuous and useless road. The warmth of his lips seeping into you, Mingyu as relieved as you are. His hands finding its way to the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer.

It only escalates, as you open your mouth wider to push your tongue against his, making Mingyu groan out as he meets you with similar enthusiasm.

He pulls you forward, off the art horse. Taking you down to the ground, maneuvering you until your back is against the hard floor. Covering you with his large frame, his weight pressing down on you in ways you were having such a hard time admitting you missed.

It was fast, and albeit messy and rushed. Like trying to make up for wasted time as you pull him close, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as your lips go numb, your teeth clashing.

You let out a whine, when Mingyu pulls away with a heavy breath, fighting against your attempts to pull him back for a kiss.

“Y/n — fuck, can we?” He asks hurriedly, his voice breathless. A look of want in his big eyes, but there was also a little responsibility.

First of all — anyone could walk into the studio any second. There was only a lunch break, sure, an hour. But at least half of it has passed.

As you take your bottom lip under your teeth, chewing at your swollen lip as you think. And Mingyu knows exactly what look you were giving him, and he wasn’t going to reject you. Not now.

He leans back in, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, breath hot against yours, before moving to your jaw. Leaving open mouthed rushed kisses down your neck, as you move your hands down his back. Feeling the muscles you were forcing yourself to look away from during the whole first half of class.

Touching Mingyu was way better than just drawing him from afar. You’re sure on that.

He moves his hand down, to push your midi skirt up, bunching the fabric to your hips. Your legs exposed to the cold air of the studio, as he wastes no time to slide your panties to the side. Already wet and damp from the heavy making out, and partially to the adrenaline of being in such a risky place.

“Damn, already?” He says, with a slight tease to his voice, making you pinch his arm. He lets out a pained chuckle, before placing his thick fingers against yours core, a gasp escaping your lips.

It helped that he knew you so well already, your legs squirming around the sides of him as he runs his fingers through yours wet folds, his thumb circling your clit as he inserts two fingers in, stretching you out as you gasp, Mingyu attacking your neck with messy kisses as he gets you ready for him.

“Fuck, Gyu,” You whine, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he curls his fingers, hitting the spongy flesh that makes you arch your back off of the floor.

You weren’t the only one worked up, Mingyu being bare this entire time. His dick pressing up against the inner of your thigh, hardening at the sounds of your pleasure.

Your hand shoots down to grab hold of him, helping him get hard as he lets out a moan, as you tighten your grip. Pumping him a few times, lining him up to you as he removes his hand from your entrance.

You both let out soft gasps as you hold his dick to swipe against you, coating him in your arousal, his tip leaking with precum.

He doesn’t even ask, he just knows, as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch. The friction from your pulled to the side panties, to the tight warm walls of your pussy, making him feel lightheaded with pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” He breathes, without even adjusting, he ruts into you roughly. Bottoming out as he knocks the wind out of you.

A whine escapes your throat, as you hold tightly around his shoulders, as Mingyu doesn’t slow his pace.

Its rough, its fast, and overall — desperate. The lewd sounds of flesh colliding echoing in the empty studio. Your mind going dumb at his fast pace, only focused on how he goes in, out. In, out.

The smell of his sweat, the way your hands run down his exposed body, all for you. He did this all for you. To get your attention, to get you back. God, does he even know how that makes you feel?

“Fuck, fuck,” He whines, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Already feeling a little fatigued from abusing your pussy so fast. But it was just too good, he missed it so much. So, so much. And he made it evident, as he pushes the back of your thighs higher to your chest, getting deep as he can. And fucking you like his life counted on it.

You feel the familiar build up of your orgasm, your walls tightening as you grip Mingyu’s shoulders. “Gyu, Gyu, I’m —“ You manage to choke out, as he moves his face from your neck to yours. Catching your cry with his mouth, drowning it as he kisses you messily.

You shudder, squirming under him as you feel the familiar high. Your body tingling with sensitivity and pleasure, as he overwhelms you with what can only be love.

He follows soon after, not being able to maintain his mouth to yours as he lets out a shaky grunt. Spilling inside you, his cum warm and filling, making your cheeks flush in contentment and relief.

He slows, stilling as you both catch your breaths. Pulling out of you with a reluctance. Pushing himself up, to lean back to sit. You follow as well, adjusting your skirt back as you push yourself up to your elbows.

Mingyu was a sight, as he always is. His tan skin glowing with a layer of sweat. The way his toned chest rises from catching his breath. The way his bangs are sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with a rush of blood. A satisfied look on his face, as he sighs, licking his bottom lip as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile, a warm one. As you gather yourself.

“Lets get you cleaned up before the second half. Where did you throw your robe?”

“Oh fuck. I don’t know. You got any other ones?”

#seventeen #svt #kpop #seventeen smut #kpop smut #kim mingyu #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #svt x reader

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themindelectricdemo4 · 2 years ago

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Okay sorry I thought my heart fucking exploded this morning and I literally felt it was swish around and shit oh yeah did I forget to mention I haven't slept in 2 full days and eaten in 24 (this has since been fixed)

#so i went to urgent care with these symptoms ive never felt before in my life #shit that is beyond my anxiety i know my anxiety and it literally happened after i started taking my increased dose of medication #doctor tells me the medication change is a coincidence. its my anxiety and i need to take a walk!#i dont think! i have had a breakdown so serious in awhile and honwstly it was so scary that i kinda forget it all already #i just kept crying and laughing like oh this is.how im gonna get treated for the rest of my life arent i #its my anxiety. its my depression #ill come in with a genuine fucking problem one day and get it blowed off and die #fuck!#i have to wonder what they thought when i left i was acting like a fuckin looney and like my nanas taking me past the nurses desks #and tbeyre staring at me with their thousand beady eyes and im trying to stifle cryong and leaughter #like wow.#i wouldve believe stress increase more than its just my FICKINN anxiety #i brpyght in a list of 24 symptoms i wrote down and theyre just all from anxiety #ueah like my fucking. EYES DILATING TO THE SIZES OF SAUCERS. anxiety. are. you. kidding me #you know maybe it was my anxiety but holy fuck ur just glnna stand there over me and be like take a walk kid ^_^ jt'll stop your #panic attack? i guess thats what i had. idk. i didnt even get any sort of theory on it was #she was gonna do an ekg but i refused even after her insisting because i judt wanted to escape so bad #she just kinda fuckin double tripled whammer there!#1. blames all of my problems on anxiety #with no other way it could be anything else [fancier way of saying youre making it all up #2. she goes on about how i need to find the right batch of meds. lady ive been doing that for 6 years now.#im doing spravato which is a fucling last ditch antidepressant becaise ive tried everything else #but these people who just dont get it like to make it seem i havent even made an effort #ive used dozens of meds #dozens. it terrifies me. what the fuck am i injecting into my body #anyways i lost my train of my tnought yag #back to regular schwdulaedd queue posting (idk whem ill start making new ones we will see)

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the-offside-rule · 28 days ago

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Joe Burrow (Cinccinati Bengals) - Game Day and Grammys

Requested: no but someone asked about NFL imagines and the Pro Bowl and Grammys were on so how could I miss this opportunity?

Prompt: Joe Burrow x singer!girlfriend

Warnings: none other than it being long and full of fluff

NFL requests are open ♡

Y/n sat in the plush chair of her hotel suite, a stylist curling sections of her hair while another dabbed powder on her already flawless face. The room buzzed with quiet excitement—her team murmuring about last-minute dress fittings, run-throughs, and camera angles. After all, tonight was the biggest night of her career. Five Grammy nominations. Five.

But her attention? Completely divided. On the sleek flatscreen across the room, the Pro Bowl was in full swing. Her boyfriend, Joe Burrow, was out there, tossing passes and leading drives while she got glammed up for music’s biggest stage. She’d wished she could be there, but the Grammys and the game fell on the same night, and there was no way to be in two places at once.

Her phone vibrated in her lap. Another text from Joe.

Joe: This is so much fun. Wish you were here

She grinned, typing back quickly.

Y/n: Wish I was too. But you better be focused, Burrow. No interceptions.

Another buzz.

Joe: No INTs. Just vibes. Also… scored a touchdown. No big deal.

Y/n let out a laugh, her lips quirking as she typed her reply.

Y/n: A touchdown?? Damn, you haven’t scored one of those in a while.

Her stylist stifled a giggle behind her. "Good news?" She smirked. "Joe just ran one in himself." Her phone buzzed again.

Joe: Wow. The slander.

Joe: But fair.

Joe: Good luck tonight, superstar.

Joe: Ja'Marr said if you win two tonight, that makes it 9 grammys you have ever won

Joe: And guess what my number is?

Y/n chuckled at the coincidence. No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, they were always supporting each other.

Y/n: Alright, QB1. Ill get the Grammy's you worry about not getting tagged.

With one last glance at the game, she turned back to the mirror, ready to take on her own championship night.

The flashbulbs were blinding as Y/n posed on the red carpet, her dress hugging her perfectly while she effortlessly smiled at the cameras. The energy was electric; reporters calling out her name, fans screaming behind the barricades. She was used to this, but tonight felt different. Bigger.

As she moved down the carpet, she began her interviews, each asking the same old question that she had rehearsed about a million times. How does it feel to be nominated 5 times? She had been nominated for Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Record of the Year, Pop Vocal Album and Music Video of the Year. She had been to the grammys before but she had only ever been nominated twice each year. Granted, she did win them, racking up an astonishing 7 grammys in just 4 years, but her once edgey music had shifted to softer love songs, all thanks to a certain quarter back.

She smiled as she moved on down the carpet to her last interviewer, a little kid who she had seen on tik tok time and time again. "Oh my gosh, hello!" She smiled as she did her best to get down onto the kid's level. Her calf were killing her from the heels standing, nevermind squatting down. "You look beautiful. I love the dress." She said. "Thank you! And you look so beautiful too." The child replied. "I have a few questions for you if thats okay?"

"Of course! I would love to hear them." Y/n said warmly as she held her own microphone. "So, obviously this is your record for the most amount of Gammys that you have been nominated for. If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that this would be happening, what would you say?" Finally a way to answer the question of how she felt about being nominated that didn't involve her rehearsed answer. "I think I would tell my younger self to keep going, to believe in myself and don't put the guitar down because it's gotten me this far." Y/n replied. "Your album Nine Sunday Mornings was a very abrupt change in your music. It was more edgey and angsty the last time you were here-" Y/n laughed at the very blunt question. "Why do you think this change happened or is it because you just got bored of that genre?" Now that was a good question.

"I mean, as you said it was a big change. I mean any love song I wrote before was scrapped because I thought it was too sappy so I stuck to breakup songs or rage songs. I think the change came in meeting Joe. From the songs right down to the title it's all him. I remember the very night I met him I stayed up nearly all night writing about the like 5 minute encounter we had and now it's nominated tonight so. I have to give credit where credit is due." She answered. "Have you been keeping up with the Pro Bowl?" Y/n laughed, adjusting the Grammy-branded microphone in her hand. "Of course! I have it on in my hotel room. Joe keeps texting me updates, so I think I might have a better play-by-play than some of the commentators."

Her manager tapped her shoulder to tell her to make her way inside, so she bid the mini-reporter farewell and walked in to the packed venue.

Once inside, Y/n glanced around, trying to spot her team. The Grammys were always a production, but tonight, the room felt even bigger. Row after row of tables and glowing stage lights. She turned in circles, scanning the room. Where were they? Her manager, her producer, anyone?

"Y/n?"

She spun around to see Jack approaching, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. "Hey, are you okay?" She let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, I just… I can’t find my seat. I have no idea where my team is." Before Jack could respond, a familiar voice chimed in.

"She can sit with us!"

Y/n turned to see Taylor Swift standing a few feet away, a warm smile on her face. Taylor, dressed in an elegant yet edgy ensemble, motioned toward her table. "If you don’t mind sitting with us, of course." Y/n hesitated for a second. She didn’t want to intrude- Taylor was with her own crew, and this was a huge night for her, too. "Are you sure?" She asked cautiously.

"Of course! Come on." Taylor said, looping an arm around her gently as they started walking toward the table. "Besides, we have a lot to talk about. I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting." Y/n chuckled, relaxing a little as she took a seat beside her. "Are you going to the Super Bowl?" Taylor asked after a moment.

Y/n shook her head. "No, I’ve never actually been. I told myself I wouldn’t go until Joe is the one playing in it." Taylor’s brows lifted in amusement. "Oh that is goals."

"Plus, I’m heading to his family’s house to watch it with them." She added. "I think it’ll be more special that way." Taylor smiled knowingly. "There’s nothing like watching a game with the people who love him most. Honestly, I think you guys are gonna be there next year." Y/n nodded, already picturing herself in the Burrow family’s living room, wearing one of Joe’s sweatshirts, surrounded by his parents and siblings. It felt right. "Honestly, I don't wanna be too picky but I want a Bengals and 49ers Superbowl. That would cure the world, I think."

"That would be a good one."

Just then, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. Y/n took a deep breath, ready to take on the night—Grammys, football updates, and all.

Joe stretched his arms over his head as he stepped into the hotel lobby, still buzzing from the Pro Bowl. The game had been fun, a rare chance to play a little looser, joke around with the guys, and even run in a touchdown himself—something Y/n was sure to remind him about later. His teammates followed behind him, still hyped up from the day. "Alright." Ja’Marr announced, clapping his hands. "Let’s turn on the Grammys. Gotta see Y/n win some trophies since Joe isn’t bringing any silverwear home."

Joe grinned as he nudged Ja'Marr for that dig, leading the way to the suite where they all piled onto the couches, flipping the TV on just in time to catch the ceremony in full swing. The room filled with snacks, drinks, and casual conversation, but anytime Y/n appeared on the screen, the guys would nudge Joe, who was watching intently, phone in hand, ready to text her.

Then came Best Pop-Vocal Album of the Year.

Joe sat forward, hands clasped as they listed the nominees. He knew how much work Y/n had put into this album—how many late nights, how many times she’d called him exhausted but excited, how much of her heart was poured into every track.

"And the Grammy goes to…"

Not her.

Joe exhaled, lips pressing together as he watched her smile and clap for the winner. She was graceful as ever, but he knew her well enough to see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "She said she was gonna be surprised if she got that one. She like, knew Sabrina was winning that hands down."

Then came Record of the Year.

Not her again.

"She got robbed." Russell Wilson muttered. "Bro, you're gonna be the first one singing Not Like Us at the halftime show next weekend." Lamar Jackson replied. "She's in like the toughest categories." James Cook added. Joe didn’t say anything, just shook his head. He hated seeing her not get what she deserved, but he knew Y/n. Knew she’d keep smiling, keep pushing forward. And damn it, he’d keep cheering her on, just like she always did for him.

It didn't matter. 2 down, 3 to go. Music Video of the Year.

Joe sat up straight. He knew this one mattered to her, too. Her video had been a passion project, something she’d fought to bring to life exactly the way she envisioned it. The competition was stacked—the other nominees had incredible visuals, and any of them could take it. Y/n sat at her table, her hands clasped in her lap, holding her breath. Joe could practically feel her nerves through the screen.

"She’s got this." He murmured. "She’s got this, she’s got this, she’s got this, come on, baby."

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n!"

Y/n gasped, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Taylor pulled her into a tight hug as the entire table erupted into cheers. Joe leapt off the couch, throwing his hands in the air. "Let's go! Yes! Wooh!" The suite exploded with excitement- Ja’Marr was shouting, some of the guys were recording Joe’s reaction, and others were laughing as Joe jumped up, singing along to the snippet of Y/n’s song that played as she made her way to the stage.

On the screen, Y/n’s smile was blinding, eyes slightly glossy as she accepted her award. Joe grinned, pride swelling in his chest. She’d done it. Just like she always did. "Oh my god, wow." She began. "I’ll be honest, I did not expect Music Video of the Year. There had been some amazing Music Videos so I just wanted to congratulate my fellow nominees and their directors." Joe clapped as he listened to her. "I want to thank my team, the fans, my family and all of you who voted for the video. My boyfriend Joe of course, who may or may not be still playing his game of tag football but I'm gonna thank him anyway." His face grew red. "I think that's all I have to say to be honest. Maybe I'll see you up here again pretty soon."

Joe lounged back on the couch, finally feeling like he could relax a little after all the emotional whiplash of the night ao far and he was still buzzing from it. "She’s performing next." Ja’Marr pointed out, nodding toward the TV. Joe sat up again, straightening his hoodie as the camera panned to the stage. The lights dimmed, and then—there she was.

His girl.

Y/n stood center stage, bathed in golden light, singing a balld version of her nominated song. She wore the most stunning outfit—a gold sparkling, elegant number that hugged her perfectly. She looked ethereal. "Jesus Christ." Joe muttered under his breath before saying a little louder, "Her outfit is so pretty." Some of the guys laughed. "Yeah, it is." Ja'Marr teased with a smirk. "You good over there, Burrow?" Russell asked, causing all the other guys to take notice of his blushing face and tease him further.

Joe just waved them off, eyes locked on the screen. Then, just as the song picked up, she reached down, grabbed the edges of her outfit, and-

Riiiipppp

The elegant gown was gone, revealing a bold, dazzling second outfit underneath—sleek, fun, and perfect for dancing. "Oh my God." Joe groaned, immediately hiding his face in his hands as the entire room exploded. The guys were shouting, laughing, some recording his reaction as they all clapped and cheered. "Ayyy! Okay, Y/n!" Ja'Marr called.

Joe shook his head, chuckling as his ears burned. He peeked through his fingers just in time to see her seamlessly transition into the next part of the performance, moving with ease, completely in her element. She was dancing, smiling, engaging the crowd like she was born for this moment. "I didn't know she could move like that! Damn!" Trey said.

Joe dropped his hands, watching as Y/n held the mic out, getting the entire crowd to sing along with her. She looked so happy, completely in control of the stage, like she was having the time of her life. Joe smiled. His teammates might have been teasing him, but he didn’t care. He was just so damn proud of her. As the song ended,she looked aroukd for the camera that would be zooming in on her. She spotted it and winked, before blowing a kiss right to it. Joe reached for the imaginaru kiss and put it to his heart as the guys teased him even further for it.

Joe sat back against the couch, his arm draped over the back as the next category came up—Song of the Year.

"Alright, this one’s huge." Ja’Marr said, leaning forward. Joe nodded, eyes locked on the screen. Y/n had poured everything into this song and she loved it the most for reason unknown to him, and even though she’d already won Music Video of the Year, he wanted this for her. Badly.

The nominees were stacked— some of the biggest songs of the year, including Y/n’s. The room quieted as the presenter opened the envelope.

"nd the Grammy goes to… Kendrick Lamar, Not Like Us!"

Joe exhaled, shaking his head, but before he could react, he spotted Y/n on screen, grinning and dancing along to the snippet of Not Like Us that played through the venue speakers. Joe burst out laughing. "She doesn’t seem too bothered." Trey snickered. "Bro, she looks kinda tipsy."

The whole room chuckled as they watched Y/n dancing up out of her seat singing along as Kendrick made his way to the stage. She was still clapping and smiling, showing nothing but love for the win, and Joe couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly cool she was about it. "She’s just vibin'." Joe said with a smirk, shaking his head.

And then finally came Album of the Year.

Her final nomination.

Joe sat up one last time, his heart pounding a little harder. He could see Y/n on screen, hands clasped together, her lips pressed tight as she waited. The tension in the room was thick, even through the television.

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n, Nine Sunday Mornings!"

She didn’t move.

She didn’t react at first—just sat there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Joe felt like the air had been sucked out of the room before he erupted. "Yes! Let's go baby!" He jumped up again, fists in the air as his teammates laughed, recording his reaction for the second time that night. "That’s my girl! That’s my girl!" He cheered, pacing the room as the suite filled with whoops and applause.

Back on the screen, Y/n finally stood, still in complete shock. As she made her way up to the stage, she kept shaking her head, her mouth open as if she still couldn’t believe it. She took the award in her hands, staring down at it, blinking before looking around. The crowd chuckled. She looked up at the mic, then back at the award. "What?" She squeaked.

Laughter rippled through the audience. Joe grinned, shaking his head. He could practically hear her thoughts—How? Against all those incredible albums? She took a deep breath, exhaling sharply, still looking down at the trophy. "I—I don’t even know what to say, honestly I'm a little drunk so-" Joe smiled proudly, watching her collect herself and begin her speech. She had done it. Two Grammys in one night. And even though he wasn’t there in person, he cheered for her just as loudly as she did for him on Sundays.

"I want to thank the incredible Jack Antanoff for helping me produce this album first and foremost, my team also. But there is one person in particular who I will ramble on about because he was the inspiration for every single song I wrote since the 9th of December 2023, when we first met." Joe felt his eyes watering upon hearing it. He didn’t lile seeing her cry, it often meant he would cry too. "The album itself is a hommage to the fact that it took just nine sunday mornings for us to decide we wanted to become a couple and honestly, those 9 Sunday mornings were the best I could have ever lived through because I got to fall in love with the love of my life." Joe wiped his eyes, lookong down as Ja'Marr patted his back in support. "Joe, wherever you are, I wanted you to know that this award is for you, you can put it right next to the Heisman and my other 8 Grammy's."

Joe chuckled lightly as her little dig. "And just in case this wasnt a clincidence enough already- I'm going to shout out Ja'Marr Chase for this information- this is my ninth Grammy, and its for Cinccinati's number 9." The microphone cut out, singalling that her time for speaking was up. She mouthed a very animated 'I love you' to the camera before smiling and heading off the stage.

As soon as Y/n sat back down at her table, she reached for her phone. Her hands were slightly shaking—part adrenaline, part sheer excitement. The night had been a whirlwind, and there was only one person she needed to talk to right now. She hit Joe’s contact, pressing the phone to her ear as the Grammys continued around her. The line barely rang once before he picked up.

"Baby!" She let out a breathless laugh. "Joe!"

"Oh my God!" He said, and she could hear the pure excitement in his voice. "You were insane. I mean first of all, two Grammys? And then that performance? What was that outfit change? You’re trying to kill me?" Y/n giggled, running a hand through her hair. "Did you like it?"

"Like it? Babe, I almost had a heart attack. These guys aren't gonna let me live it down." She laughed again, picturing Joe hiding his face in his hands while all his guys teased him. "I was just thinking about you the whole time." She admitted, voice a little softer now. "I figured you were watching."

"Of course I was watching." He said immediately. "Are you kidding? We had the Grammys on as soon as we got back. I was cheering for you all night." Y/n smiled, glancing down at her awards sitting in front of her. "It still doesn’t feel real. I mean…Album of the Year? What?"

"You earned that, Y/n. No one deserved it more." She bit her lip, warmth spreading through her chest. "I mean, Billie should have won it." She replied. "Oh my God, I'm gonna cry again."

"No, don't cry." He said quickly. "Not unless it’s happy tears." She laughed, leaning back in her chair. "How was the Pro Bowl? I feel like I barely got to ask you." Joe chuckled. "It was fun. I mean we lost, but it was fun."

"What was the score?" She asked. "Like 76 to 63 or somethin' like that?" He looked around for nods of approval. "Did I mention I scored?" Y/n chuckled. "Yeah and as I said before I haven’t seen you do that in a while."

"Okay, woah." He deadpanned, and she could hear his teammates laughing in the background. "I’m kidding." She teased. "I’m proud of you."

"I'm proud of you too, baby." Y/n exhaled, her whole body finally starting to relax after the chaos of the night. "I just wish you were here."

"Yeah, I know." Joe said softly. "But I’ll see you tomorrow. And then we can celebrate properly." She grinned. "Deal."

"I love you, Baby."

"Love you too, Shiesty "

As she hung up, she clutched her phone to her chest, still smiling. It had been a night to remember— and she couldn’t wait to get home to him.

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow #nfl x reader #nfl imagine #nfl football #nfl fic #nfl

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mondaymelon · 4 months ago

Text

— pocky for the malipo ⭑.ᐟ

⟶ ( kinich x gn!reader )

— in which... hey, does this even count as a kiss...?

— speedran this filler post for pocky day + kinch's birthday.. its single day too LMAO the coincidences are simply uncanny ..

— starts out w mualani + kinich for context , fluff !! reader likes sweets,, ...tw... use of the word orbs..

“awwww, c’mon!! it’ll be fun, i promise…”

mualani jumps up and down vigorously, her expression slowly growing more and more dejected. “the traveler told me all about it- this otherworldly tradition, y’know, with those little sweet stick thingies, they even gave me a box! it’d be a reallll big shame to waste ‘em, and wouldn’t it be super cool to do?”

recently, mualani had grown very invested in the idea of some date called “pocky day.” these sorts of random hyperfixtations happened just about every other day, but this time the obsession lasted a linger longer than most, all because of some eavesdropping on the traveler, who offhandedly mentioned it in some conversation… anyway, now that the day itself had arrived, 11/11, she was more excited than ever.

“just onnncee..! pretty please, kinich… xilonen? sharky??” seeing that no one here was willing, except for sharky, who wagged his tail in approval, mualani let out a wail.

kinich stared at her with a tired gaze, sighing slowly. “well, i don’t see how-”

“oHHH my aRCHONS, kinich, how are you so BORING?? when i contracted with this stupid guy, YOU, i thought itd be a little more fun than rotting in a cave ALLL day long but APPARENTLY not!!? live a little uGHHGH, you emo little ‘oooohh look at me im so distant and mysterious’ shut UPPP…” ajaw popped out of nowhere, face red and pixelated hands waving back and forth angrily. “c’mooon, surely you aren’t stupid and blind enough to see that this is the literally PERFECt opportunity to smoochy smoochy kiss kiss that one person you've been OGLING with those big ORBS of yours huh????”

kinich opened his mouth to say something, but then paused. mualani watched with bated breath, squeezing sharky in her hands in anticipation, eyes sparkling, gaze screaming “oh????”.

“...well… i guess… hmph, even someone like ajaw makes a point sometimes, huh…?” kinich coughed into his fist sheepishly, a barely noticeable blush dusting his cheeks. “though, i’m not ‘ogling’ them at all, ajaw- it’s- well, i’m just observing them. for a commission.”

“suuuUUUReeee palllll, whatever you say- YOU REALLY DIDN’T THINK I’D SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, DID YOU??? BLABLABLA LALALA I’m RIGHT AHAHAHH THATS RIGHT IM RIGHT IM-”

kinich swatted ajaw out of the air, in the way one would with a buzzing fly. he flew through the air, disappearing into the horizon with a sparkle.

“...ahem. mualani, i’ll be heading out now.” kinich turned around calmly, as if he hadn’t just committed battery. "if i may, could i get one of those ‘pocky’ you were talking about? i’ll repay you.”

"hehe... no need for repayment, just tell me how it goes later!" mualani, smug and beaming, handed over one of the boxes.

..and so the time had come.

"kinich?" glancing up from your work, you flashed him a smile. "what's the matter?"

well, it wasn't as if the saurian hunter didn't see you out often- he did. this little nook you had in the scions of canopy was, as kinich put it, "on the convenient way back" for all of his missions, and so the male found most evenings swinging by (pun intended).

no, him coming wasn't the issue here. but kinich had been uncharacteristically.. avoidant of your gaze. for the past five minutes he had been there, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame like they do in those inazuman light novels, he'd been staring at a crack in the floorboards. and to make matters more concerning, he had something strange in his hands too: some sort of box that he kept flipping around with his fingers.

"hey. kini'. we're both not great at words, so just tell me and get.. well, whatever it is. you wanna say over with." at the mention of his nickname, kinich perked up, clearing his throat.

"ah, that..."

ohh, so there was the problem. the eerily quiet atmosphere was because ajaw wasn't present... pause, now you were even more worried. kinich had somehow gotten ajaw off his ass?? unthinkable????

"is it an emergency? fuck, are we all going to die? tell me this type of thing earlier, kini', i need to pack all my-"

"what? no- i, mualani.. she, no, there's this holiday, today. the traveler mentioned it, and i thought it'd be fun to try out.. you like sweets too, so. here." kinich unearthed some sort of... stick? was he really trying to feed you sticks? c'mon now, you weren't that stupid-

"i can read your gaze. it's not like that. here, it's chocolate, just- hah..." kinich sighed, eyebrows pinched together, wearing the expression of someone watching everything go wrong. "give it a taste?"

you eyed him skeptically, before taking the stick out of his hands and taking a bite.

"...sweet."

"yeah?"

"not a stick."

"...yes."

"...give me another."

"not so fast, we need to play the game first." kinich took one of the sticks and put it into his mouth, all of a sudden looking a lot more... guilty? you couldn't quite pinpoint the expression on his face, something you'd been doing with a 30% success rate (the highest any natlanian had ever achieved). "whoever gets the last bite wins."

"...i'm just supposed to. eat the other end?"

"what, you can't?" the slight teasing edge in his voice reminded you of ajaw (just the slightest) and you immediately became exponentially irritated.

"hah, who said that? bet."

"..."

oh, so now he chose not to break eye contact.

"...a-hey, we're getting a little close, aren't we.."

"...if you wanna break it off, lose."

"...fuck, you-"

you grabbed him by the cheek, pushing yourself forward and, admittedly, forcefully touching your lips against his. whether by the suddenness or whether by the fact that you two had, well, "kissed," the esteemed malipo kinich let out what sounded like a sputter and fell backward, hands barely catching him from falling to the ground. sitting himself down, he looked up at you with flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, and the edge of his lips smudged with chocolate.

"bleh. i win." sticking out your tongue, you motioned with your hands. "the whole box, it's mine now. winner takes all, or whatever they say in mondstadt."

kinich's gaze was observant, and under it you felt your face slowly begin to warm, realizing what you had just done.

"not so fast." kinich stood back up, recomposing himself in a matter of seconds.

"one more round. you caught me off guard."

(a/n) and then reader and kinich smoochy smooch smooch kiss kissed and single day was no longer single and happy birthday kinich really did become happy for kinich fuck when am i going to find me a partner <- has unrealistic expectations

context notes!! :

ajaw purposefully left kinich alone so that he could do his.. idk if you can call it flirting. pocky game w you. best wingman ajaw we all cheer (in reality he was tired of seeing kinich act all lovey dovey whenever you were around and found the tension suffocating so he decided to take matters into his own hands)

taglist (comment to be added / send in an ask on my sb): @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @umiloa, @intpessimistic, @keiiqq, @intpessimistic, @eutopiastar, @matcha-mintea

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glamourscat · 3 months ago

Note

Could you please write Bruce and batboys getting jealous when they meet their crush's ex boyfriend? Her ex is as rich as Bruce, handsome and a total green flag. But they broke up in a friendly term. Upon meeting him they got jealous seeing reader and her ex are still super close. Thank you ❤️

Batboys + Bruce and their jealousy while meeting your ex

Author's Note: I decided to do a mix of a headcanon and a drabble for this one, I think it fits the vibes of the request. i hope you like it :) This is also so damn long but i am a yapper at heart

DICK GRAYSON

I see Dick as a very confident individual. I mean, he is self aware, he is beautiful, rich and overall a good guy. A catch right? (let's ignore the cheating for a moment...)

Though, Dick grew up in a rather unstable situation, to say the least. I see him as a person who craves his s/o attention on him, not necessarely 24/7, but enough to remind him "hey, I am here and I love you"

Still, when he does get jealous ━━ for example in this scenario where you're his crush and he is meeting your ex, who's as equally as handsome as him, not that he would admit to it. Rich as Bruce and a green flag on top of that?━━ damn, he is cooked lol.

His jealousy will probably stem from insecurity. Because, if this guy is rich, beautiful and a green flag too, what does Dick have to offer now? If they are on the same level, or worse, your ex is slightly higher than him ━━ truly, what cards are left for him to play?

And so, I think he would feel insecure for a moment and thats where being overly into PDA comes into place. MORE UNDER THE CUT

"You’re awfully close today. I mean, it’s not like I’m complaining, but… are you sure you're alright, Dick?" you say with a small, soft chuckle as you look at the black-haired guy who just linked his arm with yours.

"Yeah… yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?" he says, offering a smile that’s a bit too tight, a bit too forced for your liking. It’s not like you're a fool; you know exactly what the problem is. You saw the way he reacted when, walking casually through Gotham, you two happened to run into your ex by pure coincidence.

His eye twitched slightly, and his gaze was darting back and forth between you and your ex. You noticed the way his arm tightened around your waist, as if to say, Back off. If you had any doubts about whether he liked you before, now you have your answer.

JASON TODD

When I think of Jay, I imagine a healed version of him. I know people like to imagine him as this broken soul, and I’m not saying he isn’t; he has his fair share of trauma. But I like to think that from coming back as Red Hood to now, the present Jason Todd, he is a changed man.

He’s no longer the insecure, abrasive teen who swore nothing but vengeance and payback for what happened to him. He has accepted what happened; that doesn’t mean he forgot, nor does this mean he forgives Bruce. It just means he has the emotional capacity to be more confident in his own being.

So, how would he react upon meeting his crush’s ex? Well, chances are, if you’re Jason’s crush, you two are friends. He’s good at many things, but flirting, romance, and putting himself out there are not some of those. By being close friends, he is probably already aware of some aspects of your past, including your ex.

Thus, when he meets your ex, he is probably as nonchalant as ever. Does he feel a bit jealous? Maybe. Will those insecurities that have haunted and stained his past try to resurface, making him second-guess himself? Also yes. But he has grown enough to know he’s better than that.

"Jay?" Your voice is soft as feathers as you look at him. His green-blue eyes are focused on browsing the books on the shelves in front of you two, as silence fills the air in the small bookshop where you two had, by chance, met your ex just moments prior.

"Hm?" he hums, not taking his eyes off the books, but keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

"Are you okay? You're awfully quiet. Did I say something wrong, or…?" You trail off, but he cuts you off.

"Nope, nothing's wrong. I'm just looking for a book," he says, moving to the romance section. "You like this?" His voice is quiet, yet it holds a softness to it as he shows you a book he damn well knows is your favorite.

"I mean, yeah. It’s my favorite. Why?" Your tone is slightly confused, just as quiet as his.

He shrugs as he places the book in the small hand basket he’s holding. "Nothing. Just thought I’d buy it. I trust you and your opinion. If you say it’s good, then it is."

He knows that in that moment, not giving in, not allowing those negative emotions to resurface as they did in the past, was the best choice he could’ve made if it meant seeing your smile—so timid yet flustered—with those rosy cheeks of yours, as you try to hide your giddiness from his words.

TIM DRAKE

Ah, my favorite little gremlin. The issue I have with Tim is not with Tim himself, but with the fandom that constantly mischaracterizes him.

I’m not even going to get into the coffee addict recurring joke, but I want to focus on one thing. "Precious bean Tim". This guy is absolutely unhinged. Dick, Jason, and Damian all had their moments, but Tim? His whole being is centered around being a sarcastic, witty little shit who does the most unhinged things, and somehow, people always give him a pass. (I mean... do we need to talk about his red robin run? Or when he was dating two people at once? Or when it's canon that at first impression people feel judged by him?)

My point is, Tim is literally out of his mind lol. He struggles a lot with his emotions, we see this in his Red Robin run, how obsessive he became over the idea of finding Bruce, someone he cares for. He was spiraling bad.

His jealousy manifests in possessiveness. Mine, mine, mine. Let's not forget that Tim lost his mother, watched his father die too. He is messed up emotionally, because everything that was his has always been taken from him one way or another. First his parents, then robin mantle by Damian and even his best friend (or lover) Kon at somepoint.

"You're pouting."

"No, I am not." He says, while comically enough, pouting more. It had been about 30 minutes, give or take, since you two came back from the movie theatre. Where you and Tim had to sit through an almost 2 hours long movie with your ex as the main lead.

Was he pissed? no, no, no... why would he be? Absolutely no. Him? Tim Drake? Jealous? Pff. Definitely wasn't. And yet, he kept pressing each key of his keyboard so hard, as he typed, that you feared it might come flying at his face very soon.

"If you're jealous you can just say so you know." You say with a half amused grin. If he wanted to act like a brat, might as well enjoy it. "I mean, who wouldn't be right? My ex is after all, rich, handsome, a great ac-" your words are cut off as his face he is pretty much pressed against yours.

When the hell did he come on the bed? He was sitting at his desk just a moment ago...

"Shut up" he scoffs as his cold nose nudges yours, his hand goes to the back of your head pulling you in for a kiss. and what a kiss. His lips, slightly chapped and cold, meet yours with such ferocity you're left stunned. His body has yours pressed on his bed, as he straddles your lap. Your tongues meet as he lets out a quiet little moan as your hands go in his soft raven hair.

"fuck- i am sorry" he pants gulping, cheeks red and eyes wide, as he pulls back after a few moments in a panic. what the fuck had he just done?

"You shut up now." you say with a little grin, equally as breathless as him, as you bring back your lips against his. Losing each other in a kiss that would be just the beginning of a beautiful imperfect thing.

BRUCE WAYNE

Now, Bruce was hard to crack, for me at least. Because, I think depending on the person, the situation and how he is feeling at the current moment, he can be like any of his sons.

His jealousy is not driven by insecurity or possessiveness in the conventional sense, like Dick’s or Tim's would. Not necesseraily.

I mean, we are talking about a man with his fair share of lovers

I think his jealousy would stem from his deep emotional connections and the high stakes involved in his relationships. Sure, Tim, Dick and Jason are all vigilantes too, but Bruce is the Batman. he cannot afford, he does not have the luxury, of dating who he wants just because. It's either flings or a deep emotional connection with him.

We see him getting jealous with Selina, for example, when he feels his emotional connection getting threatened by other men she is flirting with. His jealousy is so damn complex and subtle and sometimes it shows up as in actions and decision making rather than extensive show off of jealousy.

That's why I think if he has a crush on a woman (or man), his attidute will depend on the situation they find themselves in. He might become overall more vigilant, assertive or distant base on how the event will play out.

#batfamily headcanons #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon #tim drake x reader #tim drake headcanon #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson headcanon #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne headcanon #jason todd oneshot #jason todd fluff #dick grayson

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