#dimple couples everywhere

[anotherfanaccount]

What do I watch to get over the hangover of lovely runner???

This is the problem with really sweet perfect dramas. Your heart aches that they're over. Happened to me for Homcha and I sort of drifted away from kdramaland after that. And now this.

Maybe I'll just rewatch Homcha and then Loverun and them repeat till another one claims me heart and soul.

[fairyysoup]

his hands

pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.

cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men

a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore. 

“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?” 

The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with. 

The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.

You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.

“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.

“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”

“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.

“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.” 

“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?” 

You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.

“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.

“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”

“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.” 

You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”

“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind. 

You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.

It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open. 

Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.

You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.

You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.

After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it. 

“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter. 

You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?

Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.” 

You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look. 

“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”

You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens. 

“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”

“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies. 

Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”

“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.

“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”

“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again. 

“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”

“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible. 

“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”

You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”

Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”

“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.” 

“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?” 

“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit. 

“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.

You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.

He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.

After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.” 

You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head. 

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.

“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat. 

Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.

“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”

His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror. 

Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it. 

Cocky bastard.  

“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?” 

“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”

“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”

A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places. 

“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation. 

Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.  

“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.

“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for. 

“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”

“Tell me where to sign.”

He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time. 

“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back. 

You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.

“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?” 

You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?” 

“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”

“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”

“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?” 

“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right. 

Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!

By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.

You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.

False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.

You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.

You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.

“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”

What the fuck did you just say?

Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”

When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.

There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.

This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.

“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”

“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”

“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”

His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander. 

Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all. 

“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.

Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.

You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”

“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.” 

“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.

“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”

“No way.”

“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.” 

“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”

A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”

“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.” 

You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”

Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?” 

“Yeah, not too flashy.” 

“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.” 

“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”

Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.

Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.

You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.

“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.

You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up. 

When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.

Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”

Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–

Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”

“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.

Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–

“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you. 

You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven. 

You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room. 

“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.

“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.” 

“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck. 

“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh. 

“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.

Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?” 

Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.” 

“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.” 

He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”

Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.

When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.

Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you. 

“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat. 

His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more. 

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”

He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”

You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.

Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather. 

“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.

“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already. 

“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”

You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.” 

“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same. 

“Good girl.” 

Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume. 

“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.

“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling. 

Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”

You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”

Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.” 

Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.

Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours. 

“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.” 

Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger. 

Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes. 

“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”

You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs. 

“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”

Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.

You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him. 

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down. 

“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”

“Eddie, we’re naked.” 

“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”

“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it. 

“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”

[orimuraa]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧ I like the view right now - OT7

(synopsis) 🀨 enhypen when you’re shorter than them ✧

ot7 enhypen x short fem!reader 🀨 fluff, crack 🀨 reader is shorter than enha 🀨 teasing, kisses, petnames 🀨 wc 751

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

"babe where'd you go?" heeseung asked, scratching his head. the audacity of this man!! you jumped up from in front of him, making yourself now visible to the freakishly tall man. "oh there you are!! i've been looking everywhere for you!" he teased, a wide smile adorning his face while a playful scowl adorned yours. "hmph!" you pouted, crossing your arms and turning away, knowing exactly what heeseung's reaction would be. "no baby! i was just joking!" he giggled, turning you back towards him and crouching down to kiss you. "i love you my shortie."

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

you were currently in the kitchen, struggling to get something from one of your higher up pantries when jay walked in. "woah there princess, what're you doing there?" he smirked, knowing exactly what your issue was. "ugh- i can't get this- thing!" with one big jump, you failed to knock down the bowl you were trying to grab, causing jay to walk over and grab it with ease. "jeez! why would anyone ever want such high up cabinets!? who even owns this house?" you questioned, turning to jay with a hand on your hip. "uhh baby? this is your house?..." he stated, laughing at your sulkiness. darn, you needed new cabinets.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

you and jake were waiting in line for a store when you suddenly felt a wait on the top of your head. "wha-?" looking up, you were silenced by the sight of your boyfriend resting his arm on top of your head. he was even leaning a bit!! "hey mister! i didn't consent you to use my head as an arm rest!" you pout, pushing off his arm. "oh, hehe, sorry sweets! you're just the perfect height for it.." he chuckles, planting a kiss to your head but not without bending down. "ah! i'm not that short! am i?" you shoot back, scrunching together your eyebrows. "well...ummm...oh! i think our order's ready!" "yah! sim jaeyun!"

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

"hey hoonie? i need help getting something please!" you call out to your extremely tall boyfriend. soon enough, he walks in, a small smirk already on his face from knowing exactly what the problem was. "top shelf?" is all he asks, his smirk getting bigger. you hate to boost his ego, but you nod. "the medium plates please.." the last bit is mumbled. he quickly yet easily grabs the plates, handing them to you. he then crouches down to meet you eye level, confusing you a bit. "damn, this height can't see anything!" he laughs, straightening his legs out. "yah!!" how rude...(jk all is forgiven cuz he's park sunghoon)

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

"baby- oh! you're so short!" sunoo was looking for you when he bumped into you in the hallway. whenever you two would stand side by side, he would always make it a point to tease you for it. he had just caught you, making sure you didn't fall back from the collision when he pulled you forward, noticing how his eyes met a couple inches from the top of your head. "i'm just kidding!" he smiles. "you're only a bit short.." he teased, kissing your forehead before running away. aish, that guy..he wasn't even that tall compared to his other members!! one day you would get him back...maybe with the help of ni-ki...

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

jungwon and you would be walking downtown and he would see a small plushie of your favorite animal, that was a very small and short one. "jagi look! it's you! the height is literally so accurate!" he laughed, holding up the short plush to you. "yah! yang jungwon!!" you shouted, catching the attention of a few passing customers. "ok i'm sorry! you're not that short..but you're still my shortie!" he laughed again, his dimples showing even more. he then crouched down to your eye level, kissing your lips before laughing once again. this kid..

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

"how's the view from down there?" "i- what?" you were so flustered and taken aback by ni-ki's sudden question, but also knowing exactly what he was doing. he was teasing you again of your guys's height difference. "hey! it's not my fault i didn't grow up to like, 6'3!" you forwned, making a pouty face at ni-ki. "and it's not my fault you're like, 2'4," he smirked back, laughing at your scowl. "take that back!!" "make me shortie!" he laughed, ruffling your hair. "nah, but don't worry, you're so cute at this height," (SOFT RIKI OMFG AJHSDB) he smiled, slowly rising onto his tip toes to become EVEN taller. "hey!! get back down here!"

hahah this was so funny cuz i'm so much shorter than all of enha and even tho jake, sunoo, and jungwon seem so short since they're the shortest ones in enha, they literally tower over me...

anyway! if you enjoyed, please reblog and like! feedback is also appreciated very much!

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jongbean

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🍂🍁🎃

❤️ just some tooth rotting fluff involving Eddie and his not so secret admirer

🎃💌

Eddie was in hell. Who's idea was it to do this stupid shit again?

A banner hung from outside the school that proclaimed today was Boo Day 👻🎃 a day dedicated to your boo (partner) or someone you admired.

Who had came up with this monstrosity you ask? Why that was Miss O'Donnell. She had the idea to have the day before Halloween dedicated to love. Where she had even had an idea like that was anyone's guess but Eddie was pretty certain that the old bat had lost her mind.

Or teaching Eddie for three years had finally driven her crazy.

Everywhere he looked people were cooing over mystery cards that they had gotten from a secret admirer.

This was another thing he hated about this whole day, he had to suffer through Valentine's Day, now he has to go through this shit as well? Who the hell would send him a card like that?

He'd be slightly jealous if he didn't think this was load of bullshit.

He dodges excited students dressed up as ghosts and pumpkins, students who Miss O'Donnell had cajoled into delivering cards and gifts to people who had participated in the card and gift exchange.

Finally there is a hint of escape when he barges into the drama room and breathes a sigh of relief. Jesus h Christ that was a nightmare.

It takes Eddie a second to realise that he's not alone. His heart skips a beat when he realises you're with him.

🎃💌

You're settled on one of the desks with a serene smile on your face that disappears the moment you hear the door open.

Once you see it's just Eddie and no loved up couples looking for a place to make out, you feel yourself relaxing once more.

"Hey Eddie" the haggard look on his face morphs into a genuine smile, all cute dimples and big brown eyes lighting up.

He was so cute and you had the biggest crush on him and you had planned to tell him, today in fact but his loud proclamation that this day was all a bunch of bullshit made you chicken out of handing him the card you made.

You doubted he felt the same anyway, he probably had a crush on one of the cheerleaders or someone like that.

Even if he said he didn't conform to societal standards you still caught him checking out the cheerleaders once or twice. You weren't a cheerleader or popular or anything like that, you just did what you liked and right now that was occasionally joining in on a Hellfire campaign or drawing or writing, honestly anything creative was your thing.

"So do you not have a secret admirer you made a card for?" Eddie teases and you clam up, avoiding his eyes.

"Maybe it's not like he feels the same though" you murmur and notice that Eddie isn't smiling anymore, in fact he looks kinda pissed and a little sad.

"Right, so I guess it's some popular douchebag or something?" He mutters and you try to figure out why his mood has suddenly changed so dramatically.

Was he jealous of who you liked? Didn't he realise that it was him you were smitten by. Shit what if he didn't... Feeling brave you decide to tell him how you feel and hope that he feels the same way or at least things aren't awkward between you after it all.

"It's you. I made a card for you Eddie" shit you wish the ground would swallow you up. The waiting to know how he felt was horrendous, if he laughed in your face you're sure that you'd high tail it out of here.

Instead of laughing he's gawking at you and you're ready to leave and hope to forget this all but something in his expression stops you.

"Maybe I should thank Miss O'Donell after all then" he's grinning widely and looks thrilled. "Can I see the card sweetheart?" flustered you nod and hand him the card.

It has a hand drawn picture of a pumpkin patch and you wrote inside if you were a pumpkin I would pick you 🎃❤️

Cheesy yes but you thought it was cute. Now however you're second guessing that decision and mortification fills you. Shit. This was a bad idea.

The anxiety leaves you when Eddie looks up at you smiling, he hides his face with his hair and it's so adorable.

"Aww shucks sweetheart, that's so cute. Just so you know I feel the same about you, I like you a lot princess and I'm thinking that maybe I could take you on a date"

Beaming you kiss his cheek and nod. "Where were you thinking?" he holds up your card and points to the pumpkin.

"I'm thinking of visiting the Pumpkin patch in town" he suggests and the idea is so perfect that you can't help but giggling.

"Sounds perfect"

🎃❤️

[thewriterg]

𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐜𝐬

pairing(s): jess mariano x gn!reader, collegestudent!jess x collegestudent!reader

summary: you see the title :)

word count: 1.2k

request: if you’re uncomfortable with it you don’t have to but could you write NSFW alphabet with Jess Mariano 🤭

warning(s): smut and language

A/n: —GIFs; @buffysummers— *cracks neck* it’s been a while since I’ve done this but I think I might still got it

Aftercare

Aftercare king

I feel like In his younger years he didn’t really know much about it I mean come on we all knew he was a man whore back than

he would crack you open some water and be on his way before you fell asleep

or fuck you to sleep and leave before you woke up

but he’s gotten better!

gets you a warm rag to wipe you up would run you a bath occasionally but Jess is a little arrogant bitch so he’s not gonna admit that he wants to cuddle with you for a lot of little while 🙄

Body Part

His favorite body part on you is your face even in his younger years jess didn’t base his sole existence off sex he loves to lay a hand on your cheek or kiss your forehead

But In all honesty

Jess is an ass man

There I said it.

His favorite part on himself other than his hair is his hair. he likes when you run your fingers through it and normal time but especially after sex

he’d never say it to your face though it’s Jess come on Y/n 🙄

he’s into hair pulling

pull his hair see what muffled sounds you can get out of him 🙏🏽

because he’s definitely not just going to let it spur out and let you hear them.

bratty jess?

the answer is yes.

Cum

He likes to cum either on your ass or inside you that’s just his preference.

he’s also not against in your mouth when you suck him off

I feel like he’s not really throwing a bitch fit rather you spit or swallow

kiss him and make him taste himself and feels a certain way ;)

but going back to inside you :)

he likes when you clench around him and kinda ground him in a way? Like bringing him back to reality in the best way possible

he’s in love with you either way 🤸🏾‍♀️

Dirty Secret

Jess Mariano is a switch.

Experience

like I said he was a man whore even though it’s behind him now he was a whore.

He has plenty experience on his belt

Also my man is a book reader

You can’t tell me that he hasn’t read smut like let’s be serious for a second

just know that Jess can get around and you’re always gonna finish with him 😊

Favorite Position

Rocking horse and spooning.

Jess is an eye contact person

Just intensely staring at you as he rubs circles on your puffy clit or Keeps running his thumb over your red tip

if you can hold up with his eyes than you might just have him tucked under your thumb

If not than expect him to tease the fuck at out of you and result into shit like fucking you in a mirror forcing you to watch

Goofy

I feel like other than like a sarcastic remark and a couple smirks Jess isn’t really that goofy?

I don’t think Jess is a sunshine/silly character anyways so, there’s that

Hair

He keeps himself trimmed not completely bald but not where to point where he’s uncomfortable or scratching you with it

He doesn’t really care all that much about body hair?

Like it would go like this;

“We can’t, I haven’t shaved.”

“…so?” 🧍🏽🍽️

Intimacy

There’s a lot of things that Jess is but naive however is not one.

when you want to get intimate Jess catches your drift pretty quick

But on a serious not I feel like Jess would like no shit be so sweet sometimes

Like starting up at you as he kiss up your legs to your abdomen and chest

Prepping kissed everywhere kiss rolls, beauty marks, freckles, your back and shoulders, dimples, everything.

Body worship bae

Jack off

He doesn’t do it a lot anymore? He has you and once again he’s never based his whole being off sex intake

but my man is a college student 🙏🏽

and you both have busy schedules so he might have to do what he has to to take his mind off his exam stress

if you catch him!?

please like make him finish in front of you it’d make him so hot and bothered

neither of you would go to class

Kink

Hair pulling; hair pulling is a probably a big key to Jess’s subby side

he is a switch and I’ll die on that hill.

Markings; he’d be a little shit about markings hickeys, hand marks, kiss prints, anything. leave scratches down his back and hickeys one his neck where people can see? he’s fucking whipped and will be back for more when they fade.

Overstimulation.

I rest my case your honor.

Location

your ass or your mouth.

Motivation

When you wear tighter clothes that shows off your figure he loses all sense he has come to have and will shamelessly stare

Also cock warming.

You’re helping him study and he can’t focus? It’s almost like a game

The more flash cards he can go through and get right than the more you move

if he gets more than enough wrong you’ll basically just torture him and sit there as he struggles to hold in his groans

No

Hurting each other other than like a couple smacks on the ass from either parties Jess isn’t into the pain thing at all

Oral

he doesn’t mind a good blowjob

oral fixation go brrr

Place

Risky

Jess is all about the adrenaline he gets off the risky feeling of being caught

Janitors closet type beat

Quickie

Once again y’all are college students

You eat, breathe, and live quickies.

Risk

yes 😈

The amount of places y’all have been in is very questionable

a dressing room 😏

restaurant family bathroom 😝

the janitors closet 🤨

the library 😟

Sext

it’s literally his specialty

“rubbing those pretty legs together thinking about me in the middle of them”

All while your in class

LIEK

sir enough. 🙏🏽

Toys

Not the biggest fan

only toy he was really keen on was something like vibrator underwear

but that’s a story for another day

Unfair

Depending on your personality is rather where you can keep up with Jess or not

because he’s a very big fucking tease

If you can than your best bet is to not let him talk like once you start keep going and he doesn’t have a chance like zero chance

Stare at him dead in his eyes maybe look at lips for a little bit and keep sweet talking him and he’s bending to your will

Volume

you have to really pull the noises out of this one

he’s not letting them slip easy

Wild Card

Once you were giving Jess head he was already overstimulated maybe on his third or forth orgasm and the last one you gave him practically had him unconscious

For the rest of the night he was clinging and whiny wanting you close

That’s been the biggest sun moment you’ve seen in Jess your whole relationship

X ray

6.5 to 7 inches

It gets him around but you’re also not dying splitting in half

Yes

Put your fingers in mouth

Don’t break eye contact as he licks around your digits

you two are at it like fucking rabbits

Zzz

Unless you’ve been at it for a while Jess is usually the one falling asleep after you

he’d run shapes on your hip kiss your forehead when your eyes close and then finally be on his way

[ox1-lovesick]

✶ ─── TOMORROW X TOGETHER AND THINGS WITH THEM

🍇 pairing. txt x gn!reader genre. fluff warnings. mentions of food, pda (?), wc. 50-100 each

🍇 type. headcannon , reaction

🍇 a/n. abandoned the tyun and hyuka fic for now 💀 this is like a filler fic or something i have such bad writers block. i know for a fact that soobin crochets

% YEONJUN

late night walks ; gentle kisses to your knuckles ; catching him staring ; errands to the convenience store at 3 in the morning ; holding hands ; sharing earphones ; leaning your head on his shoulder ; sharing lip glosses ; netflix marathons ; fashion shows at 2 am ; spontaneous dance sessions ; late night drives ; candid pictures ; slow dancing ; cooking ; sharing jewellery ; kisses through the phone ; matching jewelry

% SOOBIN

comparing hand sizes ; feeding each other ; interlocking pinkies ; desert before dinner ; baking ; sharing clothes and jewelry ; 1000 piece puzzles ; movie dates ; crocheting together ; croc shopping dates ; clothing hauls ; editing vlogs together ; food fights ; disney dates ; couple cosplays and halloween costumes ; pillow talk about the future ; tying your shoelaces for you ; giving you his jacket when it's cold ; matching socks and bracelets

% BEOMGYU

kisses in the rain ; hand-written love letters ; bouquets of roses ; sleeping in together ; doodling on each others hands ; scented candles ; bickering for fun ; backhugs ; raindrop races ; long bus rides ; sharing earphones ; picnic dates ; photo albums ; half anniversaries ; forehead kisses ; impromptu karaoke nights ; guitar lessons ; secret handshakes ; build-a-bear dates ; feeding each other ; pillow talk ; hiding tomatoes in his food ; painting each other's nails ; holding open the door for you

% TAEHYUN

long and warm hugs ; locking pinkies ; poking his dimples ; falling asleep on his chest ; cheek kisses ; stargazing ; library dates ; cooking for each other ; communicating through morse code ; study dates ; reading together ; sharing cutlery ; pinky promises ; kisses to your knuckles ; post it notes with messages ; holding hands ; feeding each other ; falling asleep on the phone with him ; playlists dedicated to each other ; gentle kisses ; powerpoint nights ; "5 more minutes" mornings ; flowers "just because"

% HUENINGKAI

naming all his plushies ; palm kisses ; zoo dates ; buzzfeed quizzes to see who'd survive the zombie apocalypse ; breakdancing in the dining room ; pokemon impressions ; piano lessons ; holding hands, everywhere ; kisses to the tips of your fingers ; pillow and tickle fights ; sneaking juice boxes and animal biscuits in your lunch

★ OX1-LOVESICK all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, translate, alter or repost my work without my explicit permission.

[disneyprincemuke]

be mine * gr63

your last night together ended on a bad note, and now you’re back after months to explain yourself

pairings: george russell x fem!reader

warnings: cussing

notes: ooooh wrote this at like 3am lfg!! i also started to obsess about alex albon?? yoooo that man is so fine i swear to god…

(sex) // (be mine)

it’s not all that different — not seeing you every couple of days like he used to.

george, however, does let you cross his mind a couple times a week when he’s not busy. it’s usually when he’s left in a corner with his thoughts. the way your eyes looked into his and how your dimples would show before your smile consumed him in a way he couldn’t describe.

he realised about a week after he last saw you that alex knew about your prior arrangement. alex didn’t elaborate on anything, simply just let george know that he was aware.

your name never came up in conversation again.

well, once when lily came to visit during a race weekend and was wondering why you refused to attend. and the girl did also question why george has been looking so upset in the recent days. all he could do was exchange a glance with alex and come up with a pathetic excuse.

sometimes he thinks he’s seen your face in the crowd by the paddocks, but it’s always just his imagination. so when he looked around the paddock 30 minutes ago and thought he had heard your voice, he simply brushed it off as another one of his delusions.

until he saw you again. not once, but four more times.

he’s not going crazy, is he?

george quickly rules out insanity when he sees you a fifth time in the williams garage having a conversation with logan. and you look good; perhaps the best he has ever seen you.

not to say that you looked bad before. there’s just a different glow to you that he can’t seem to figure out.

it was when logan greeted him with the call of his name and a wave that made you whirl your head around to finally look at him.

surprisingly, you do acknowledge his presence. you smile widely at him and give him a simple wave. and then your turn back around to continue your conversation.

george just walks away. he contemplated coming up to you and having a chat, but with the way things had ended that night, he decided it was better off.

meanwhile, your heart races in your chest as you resume your conversation with logan. you knew the repercussions of tagging along but you clearly hadn’t figured out completely how to face him.

you promised yourself, a few days prior, that you were ready to face george despite everything. you didn’t have it all mapped out like you had promised alex, but you can’t admit that to him.

at this point, you find yourself straying from the once engaging chat with logan. george is what took over your brain.

it seems that he took the hint as he pats your shoulder and bids you goodbye, claiming that he has some marketing activity to do.

you have thought of george in times of separation. it’s hard not to when he’s practically everywhere — your social media timelines, alex’s story and advertisements. it’s impossible to erase him from your life.

which is why you really tried to get it together while you were gone.

but the privilege of figuring out what to finally say to george will never come, it seems, as lily takes logan’s spot. she puts her hands on her hips and glares at you sternly.

“when are you going to talk to him?” lily questions with an eyebrow raise. “the day is almost over.”

you look down at your hands to avoid her intense stare. “i don’t know what to say to him… i gave him some bullshit excuse the last time i saw him.”

you hear lily sigh. you watch her take a step to lean on the wall. “and you came with us this weekend to finally debunk everything,” she reminds you slowly in hopes to keep you in check. “he won’t stay single forever, you know.”

“i know.” you lift your head up to showcase your frown. “but how can he still want this if i’d told him that the nights we spent together meant nothing to me?”

“i don’t know, but neither will you if you don’t talk to him.”

that’s all lily needed to say to you. you find yourself being pushed by an imaginary lily muni to the mercedes home in the paddocks.

as fate would have it, george is walking out of the glass doors, parting ways with lewis. he does acknowledge you like you did with him earlier.

except it’s a much shorter greeting. it’s a simple elegant smile, almost making you feel the hurt seeping through, before making a sharp turn away from you.

“george, hi.” somehow, you had found a voice from within you to call out to him. “i haven’t seen you in a while.”

he stops on his tracks, slowly turning to face you. “hi.” he takes off the sunglasses sitting on his face and gives you a more genuine smile. this time, sending waves of familiarity through your chest. “how long has it been- 4… maybe 5 months?”

you nod slowly, the awkwardness of the exchange finally making itself known. “yeah, i’ve been busy with work.”

his eyebrow raises. “yeah? that’s incredibly coincidental. i was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

sure, he is admittedly still upset with you. only a little bit. but how was he supposed to react when you gave him the stupidest reasons why he can’t take you out on a date?

what the actual fuck did you mean by ‘it’s just sex’ before bolting off and never showing up ever again?

you sigh and drop your head. “i mean, i was.” you can almost hear him rolling his eyes when you see him shift his weight to one leg and a hand rests on his hip. you lift your head up and quickly come to your own defense. “for good reason.”

“in what world did you think saying that would make me feel better?” george narrows his eyes down at you, an expression you never come across too often personally. “i asked you out on a date when i last saw you and you blew me off as if we hadn’t already seen each other bare.”

you close your eyes briefly and hold your hands up, attempting to calm him down. you just wanted to explain yourself, that’s all.

“if you would just let me explain myself, i want to start off with an apology.” you search his eyes for any signs of pulling away, and when you conclude that he is willing to stay and listen, you continue. “alex was right before when he told me to get my shit together if i wanted to date you.”

george’s lips carve into a scowl. you can almost imagine what he’s going to say next. “alex?”

“yes. i admitted to him our little arrangement but when he advised me not to hurt you, i realised he was right,” you frown, your own eyebrows furrowing in sadness. you fold your arms over your chest and rub your arms as you feel the cold sweat from the nerves of laying your cards down.

“i wanted to go on a date with you so bad, please trust me. but with all of my baggage, you didn’t deserve someone who would only give you half of themself,” you explain.

this makes george relax his shoulders a little bit. he is more used to you being a person of very few words and emotions. to have you ramble on to him in a shaky voice and watch your lips quiver is enough to make him forget the hurt he was feeling just mere minutes ago.

“i didn’t want to be with you and only have half of my foot in,” you say. “all of those nights i spent with you, they meant everything to me. i loved sleeping over with you in your bed and waking up to the sound of you humming to yourself while your brushed your teeth.

“and i’m just sorry. i’m sorry that i told you it meant nothing. it wasn’t just the sex to me. you’re not just that.” with every word, your frustration grew as you realise how stupid you had been; how careless you were with george’s feelings while trying to protect it. “you’re more than that, i know it.”

you open your mouth to continue your sentence, until you realise that he’s just been staring down at you throughout your whole monologue. this time with a small grin to his face and his cheeks slightly red.

you take a step back and put your hands down to your side. “what i’m trying to say is that i would like to get to know you better.” you clear your throat with a sheepish grin. “if you allow me.”

george, who had been picking on his phone’s exterior, puts it into his pocket. he folds his arms over his chest. “(y/n), even then i knew all your baggage,” he starts with a soft chuckle. “i asked you out on a date despite all that.”

“my conscience never would have been able to live with it.”

“i appreciate it, and i guess your heart was in the right place.” he takes a step forward and engulfs you in a hug, rubbing your arms as a way to convey that he understands. “but i would have let you break my heart over and over again if it meant that i could be the one to have you.”

you lift your head to look up at him. “isn’t that a tad dramatic for how little we know of each other, george?”

george just forcefully pushes your head back into his chest, this time with his hand brushing through your hair.

“i can’t believe you lied to me and broke my heart over something i was already well aware of.”

you tighten your arms around him, fully taking in his embrace. the fact that you’re in the middle of the paddocks as an obstacle to everyone else has not sunken in yet. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”

“yes, you will be paying for the first date actually.”

taglist (comment to be added): @scenesofobx

[according2thelore]

(please read cw in tags)

dean knocks on sammy's door. he shifts on his feet. 

it's late. he knows it's late. but after the library today, dean needs to know where they stand. younger sam hadn't come back to their room after the fight, and dean ribs have been aching with the lack of sam winchester everywhere.

he knocks again, but doesn't get a response.

he cracks open the door, and it's dark and quiet. figures. sammy is asleep, dumbass! dean's mind screams, but he opens the door further.

"sammy?" dean asks, hushed. nothing. dean hesitates, but he takes a step inside.

the room smells like sam, and dean is brought up short by it. he hadn't realized how little he has walked into a room and known sam had been in it by smell alone.

they usually didn't stay in places long enough as kids for those places to pick up their smells, aside from the rare few-month-long hunt. even sam's apartment in palo alto smelled more like jess than sam. even worse, it had smelled of what their skin smelled like together, which was nothing dean had ever associated with his brother at all.

it felt like if every copy of dean’s favourite song had been destroyed, and only covers remained. it was the same, but barely. not in the way it matters.

but this room is sam's. 

it’s strange, as dean looks around the dark room, how little of sam is actually here.

there’s a flannel hanging on the desk chair, and a couple of thick tomes open on its surface. but that’s…it. a couple of the dresser drawers hang open, and dean notices even those are empty.

it’s like sam doesn’t even sleep here.

but there’s a figure in the bed, on his stomach, holding the pillow like dean imagines he holds his girls. dean wants to snort, because it looks like sammy is the little spoon after all.

“sammy?” dean asks, again. he reasons with himself that if he doesn’t respond, he’ll go back to bed. his own weakness irritates him. just because he and his sam had a fight doesn’t mean he needs to go bother older sam with it. but dean can’t seem to stay away from the guy.

sam’s breathing stops. 

dean finds his own breath catching, as sam shifts. slowly, sam turns around. he moves steadily, purposefully, like a jungle cat and not at all like a man just woken from a dead sleep. dean freezes in the doorway, feeling—terrifyingly—hunted.

sammy blinks at him. dean blinks back.

dean can't see his face well in the dark, and can't see his eyes at all. the sheer bulk of sammy takes dean aback now that the familiar dimples and moles are absent. this body is a hunter's body.

sammy doesn't say anything for a long moment. 

dean is about to say something, but…the little of sammy’s face dean can see does something strange. something bad. dean can feel sam crumpling in on himself, and sammy’s eyes cut away from him, like dean is made of teeth, or of crawling bugs.

"no. no, no, no." sammy winds a hand into his hair. "it was supposed to be over."

“sammy? it’s—it’s me.” dean tries, but sam is senseless in the very literal horrific sense of the word, eyes blindly searching the sheets, deaf to dean’s words. then, he slams his hand into the side of his head, hard.

"it’s not—real, it’s not—“ sam mutters, quicker and quicker, and dean startles. he runs over to sam, just as sam takes one of his own fingers and bends it back, hard.

“hey!” dean cries, trying to pry sam’s finger away from the punishing hand. dean hears a pop and watches—horrified, as sam’s finger pops out of its socket. “holy fuck!”

sam is pale, and despite how he tilts his head to avoid looking at dean at all, his eyes are wide open. dean doesn’t think he’s fucking blinked since he walked in.

“hey, look at me, sammy, please.” 

“dean’ll be here. he’ll be here.” sam mutters under his breath, and dean watches—part relief and fascination and terror—as sam pops his index finger back in place, like he practically breaks his fingers for fun.

“i’m dean, sammy—look at me, please!” dean cries, frantic, but this seems to only distress sam more. he cries out, shaking his head. tears pour from his unblinking eyes, focused on the ceiling.

“we’re out. i’m out. dean!” sammy’s hand snaps up, and dean barely manages to stop him from slamming it into the side of his head again. 

dean is going to be sick. he’s going to be fucking sick. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, what’s going on, and the lack of consciousness behind sam’s eyes is the scariest thing dean’s ever seen.

“what the fuck?“

dean whips around, both hands wrapped around sam’s wrists, whom—if anything—is more terrified that he can’t hit himself than the distress that the actual pain caused him.

his older self is standing in the doorway, and dean is so relieved to see him that he slumps forward, letting sam’s wrists go.

“he started hurting himself—i don’t—“

“get out of my goddamn way,” older dean roars, and he shoves dean behind him and into the hallway. dean’s back hits the wall, hard. his feet go from under him, relief and terror and nausea making him lightheaded, and he slides down against the wall.

"i didn't--i didn't--" dean can't get any air into his lungs. he’s trying to justify himself to no one, as his older self has immediately fallen into action.

older dean turns the lamp on, and light floods the room, blinding dean and making his eyes water.

"you remember going to bed," older dean says, grabbing sam roughly. it sounds like a command, like dean is trying to convince him with the strength of his words alone. "you remember dinner last night. what did we have?"

sammy's panting, and he's scrabbling at dean's wrists. dean watches red welts bloom on his forearms, but his older self doesn’t even flinch. not even when the redness of his skin turns into blood. 

"he's got—young!—he wears his—"

"no. he's not here, sammy. tell me. what did we have for dinner last night?"

sammy's breathing fast, but dean can't see his face from where his hair has fallen into his face. it takes a few minutes for sam's breathing to calm, but dean is too afraid to approach. 

"we had...um. i think we had lasagna?" 

"there you go." dean smiles softly. you got onto me for forgetting to buy parmesan last week, remember?" 

quietly, so quietly that dean almost doesn't hear it, sam lets out a snort.

"yeah. i remember." his fingers rotate, and dean watches sam pet up older dean's arms with the pads of his fingers, like he's soothing the scratches from seconds before. spots of blood smear the trunks of his thumbs.

"dean." sam says, and dean can hear the tension running through it. he perks up, and his heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest, trying to reunite with sammy because it knows what's right. dean has never been this close and far away from sam when he needs his help. "i think he's back. i think...i think he's wearing you, again." 

"no, that's pocket-sized, remember? you love that guy. you've been knitting him little sweaters to wear." older dean says, but neither of them look at dean slumped over in the hall. dean doesn't want them to.

slowly, sam raises his head. dean watches his hair fall back, and for the first time since dean walked into the room, sam looks at him directly. he has to almost lean over the protective shield of older dean’s body. sam’s eyes trace his face, his hands clenched on his knees.

"oh." sam says, shakily. "they...they both came. right. i—" sammy puts a hand on his forehead, and dean joins it, gently wiping his own blood from sam’s forehead as sam’s fingers transfer the rusty smudges. sam doesn’t seem to notice.

"come here. please?” a weak voice from the room, and dean—despite every fuckin’ thing—can’t deny sam a damn thing. not when he sounds like that, all weak and upset and so baby brother, despite the inches and pounds and years he has on dean, now.

he expects his older self to stop him, but dean just slides to the side, stepping away to the attached bathroom a few steps away. dean hears the sink turn on. sammy, still sitting on the bed, holds one arm out to the side, and dean steps into it obediently, almost automatically. sam’s feet slide off of the bed, and he sits on the edge of it, holding dean close with a heavy arm.

dean doesn’t know what sam wants—is afraid he’s going to agree to something they’re both going to regret later. but sammy just tilts forward, the crown of his head digging into the lowest part of his sternum, where ribs meet.

he can undoubtedly feel dean’s frantic heartbeat against his skull, but sammy just breathes slowly, eyes closed. 

"i'm so sorry, dean." he rasps, quietly.

"you're sorry?" dean croaks, digging his fingers into sammy's long hair to anchor himself. he can feel sam's shaky exhale against his abdomen. "i fuckin--jesus, sammy. i'm so sorry.”

sammy tilts away from him, and looks up into his face. dean is hit with such a potent wave of—in this moment—agony. this is his baby, isn’t it?

this is the little baby that wanted lucky charms for dinner and demanded to hold dean’s hand when they crossed streets and cried so hard when dean first came back from a hunt bleeding that he threw up. 

this is his baby, with tired eyes, and deep, harrowed lines in his face. for the first time, dean realizes just how much they’ve lost. sammy is looking up at him like dean is supposed to know what to do here, like he’s expecting dean to heal hurts that dean didn’t see inflicted. that dean himself has inflicted tonight.

this is his baby. 

sammy tugs on his arm, and dean sits down on the corner of the bed, so desperate to erase the look in his eyes, so desperate to meet sam’s needs like he always has that he’d be willing to shoot himself in the head if sam handed him a gun.

but sam just pulls dean in, just as older dean comes out from the bathroom. his forearms are still dark with red welts, but the bleeding has stopped. sam lays down, and dean looks up at his older self.

older dean doesn’t say anything, just gets in bed behind sam. dean slowly lays down as well. sam lifts a hand and dean feels a light tug at his neck as sam wraps a hand around the amulet. something humiliatingly close to tears prick at dean’s eyes. sam has been reaching for the amulet for comfort as long as dean has had it.

dean watches as his older self reaches an arm around sam’s waist and pulls him closer. sam’s eyes flutter shut, and his reaching hand encourages dean to come closer. slowly, like he’s waiting for dean to reject him, sam’s knee gently bumps dean’s and stays there. 

sammy has been so calmed by dean—by both deans here, together—that he's already loose-limbed and half asleep.

sam’s breathing is slower now, and dean watches raptly as his eyes flutter open. his eyes are sleepy and dark, and dean feels speared by the depth of his devotion to this man.

it scares him.

dean is acutely afraid, as he leans forward and presses himself into sam’s chest, letting sam tuck his nose into his closely-shorn hair.

"stone number one." sammy murmurs. 

it doesn't mean anything to dean, but his older self ducks down to nuzzle against sam's hair. they make eye contact over sam's head. 

something passes between them. not respect, not necessarily. an understanding, maybe. this is ours. we will do anything to keep him safe.

"you've got two of 'em, now. you're weighed down with all these stones, baby," older dean says lightly. sam huffs a laugh directly into dean's head, and he shudders. “you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

[evermourning]

'𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. ⋆｡˚❆

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

WC: 2.1k

Summary: He always knew you would be the one for him. From the moment he met you. And now, he plans to love you eternally. In every lifetime.

A/N: It's Margaret day (Dec. 18) so here is a lovely oneshot in honor of it <3 This song is so beautiful to me and I hope to portray it into words by the very best of my abilities.. also Fem!Reader is mentioned once or twice but anyone can read regardless of gender!

Ever since you were tiny, with small hands that could barely fit around your father's, you've dreamed of this occasion. You've dreamed of the flowing white silk adorning your frame, the vibrant flowers clasped in your gloved hands, the melodious aria playing in your ears as you walked down the aisle something akin to a movie.

In your dreams, the figure waiting at the altar ready to intertwine his soul with yours has always been a mystery, shrouded in a milky fog you rendered impossible to push away. So you'd wait. Wait until the time was right and the sun would shine, clearing the fog and bathing your husband-to-be in golden light.

You know now that man is Christopher Bahng.

From the moment he smiled at you for first time, everything everywhere in the universe came to a screeching halt as you felt yourself falling for him. For the scrunch of his nose and the crinkle of his dark, soulful eyes. For the way the sight of his dimples made your stomach flutter with delight. You knew from the start that at the end of the day he would be yours. He would be the man in your dreams, hidden by the fog.

Now those wishes have come true, and more than you could ever imagine. Life with Chan is simple and sweet. You've always craved the intimate domesticity you saw emanating from movie couples, the cuddling and the kissing and the little acts of service that proved they knew each other better than anyone else.

Life isn't exactly like the movies, though. You aren't stupid. But Chan makes it feel that way. He makes your heart pound with adoration when he comes up behind you while you're making dinner, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You swoon whenever you open your eyes to see him staring at you, a saccharine smile upon his perfect lips. You are blessed to even think about spending the rest of your life at his side. It was always a hope, a wish.

But now, as you stare at yourself in the oval mirror, your body adorned in hues of white and a lacy veil upon your head, your wish has been fleshed out and exposed. It is quite simply, a miracle. And now, a reality. It hits you like a truck. You are getting married. To the love of your life, your first and final flame. In less than an hour, you will have the sacred right to call Chan your husband, to raise children and grow old with him. A single tear slips down your face. It is the first of many that will flow like a river today.

From the tent where you've spent the last three hours getting ready, you can hear quiet conversation and a soft symphony playing as people get to their seats. Chan must already be up there. Your heart rate quickens. Will he like how you look? Will he think you're beautiful? It's a foolish thought, as you know to the very depths of yourself that Chan loves every single atom in your body. He loves you when you are at your happiest, your smile bright enough to power a city, and he loves you at your lowest point, falling apart in his arms when you think you cannot do a single thing right. To him, you are the very oxygen that keeps his lungs working and his blood pumping.

Your bridesmaids come up to you, whispering words of encouragement with wide grins before they are whisked away. One after another, you hear the 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the crowd. You fight urges to peek outside. You and Chan had both wanted a more private wedding, opting to only invite family and close friends. And it was 100% worth it, you wholeheartedly believe. Although the promise of loved ones cannot quell your shaking hands and beating heart. You fidget with your hands, waiting until it is almost your time.

You sigh with relief once Minho, your longtime best friend, slips into the tent, smiling sweetly at you as he takes your hands in his.

"You look amazing. God, you're all grown up now." his voice is filled with multitudes of love for you. From the moment these dreams began as a child, you've known Minho was going to be the one who gave you away. He's watched your heart get broken time after time, comforting you each and every time as gently as the first time it happened. And then, because of him, you met Chan. You will forever be indebted to him. "Are you ready to go? They're all waiting for you. You're going to stun them."

And you nod, a nervous smile upon your lips as Minho links his arm with you. The music crescendos as you step out, and all eyes fall on you. They gasp at the sight of you, people clutching their chests with excitement. You can't help it. You beam, your face radiant.

You don't want to look at Chan yet, still taking in the scenery. The venue is outside, not a single discrepancy in the beautiful sunset. The color theme is white, matching your attire, and paired with the vibrant green vegetation, it looks absolutely divine. Your bridesmaids are giggling and waving to you, unimaginably proud of how far you've come. You pass Chan's family, soon to be yours, and his mother places a hand over her heart in silent gratitude. A thank you, for being her son's one true love.

When you look to the right, you see the remaining six of Chan's boys, dressed to the nines and watching the scene with utmost excitement. You can't help but chuckle when Felix wipes a tear away, eliciting merciless teasing from Jisung and Hyunjin. But even from here, you can see they have watery eyes too. They have nothing but adoration for Chan, and they are your family just as much as they are his.

Then, your eyes fall on Chan. His jaw is to the floor staring at you, taking in every inch of you. When you step up the altar opposite him, he is quick to take your hands in his. His voice is shaky as praise falls again and again from his full lips.

"Oh my god, you're beautiful- you're so- I can't even find the words for it. You've enchanted me. I can't speak." Noticing him getting flustered, you snicker. The officiant unfortunately interrupts your moment.

"May we begin?"

The first part is a blur, the only part you vividly remember and will forever cement into your cerebral is Chan squeezing your hands tightly as he looks deep into your eyes and says the two words that will change your life: "I do."

He never once looks away from you. Not when the officiant cracks a joke or two that bring his infamous dimples out, not when he is carefully slipping a silver wedding band onto your ring finger. When he is done, he lifts your hand up and presses a chaste kiss to the ring. It sits right alongside the brilliant diamond he proposed with, and the crowd releases a collective "awww". When you put his ring on, you do the same. It is a sign of respect and equality. There will never be an imbalance between you.

And finally, it is time for the vows. You wrote these the day after Chan proposed. You knew exactly what you'd been waiting to say to him all this time.

"This feels unreal to me. I still can't believe I'm standing here, about to tie the knot with the only person who has ever made me feel this way. I've never been so giddy when I'm around someone. I've never been so lonely and mopey when you're away. I want to spend every waking moment thinking about you if we are too far away from each other to touch." He's about to cry, it's so obvious, so you rub soft circles upon the skin of his hand. "Love is an inexplicable thing. It's fickle and can be mean, and I always thought it was out to get me. But I was wrong, because I was blessed with you. Love is far too soft of a word for me to use, because the way I feel about you could never be explained. I could dig through every page of every book, meticulously searching for the right term to use, but it would be to no avail. So you must trust me when I say that I love you, although there is so much more complexity than just those three words. Trust me when I'm falling apart and trust me when I'm doting on you like there's no tomorrow because just know that you are making all of my childhood wishes come true by being you. I promise to love you even when your hands are gnarled and you complain a bit too much about your back hurting. I'll love you when you finally become the old man Seungmin is always telling you about. And finally, I'll love you because you make me human."

The audience takes a moment for your words to register, before it is Chan's turn to say his vows. He takes a moment to compose himself before he begins, his eloquence taking everybody by surprise.

"Thank you, angel. That was beautiful. I still remember the first time I saw you. I was at Minho's birthday, and it was getting too stuffy, so I went up to the rooftop to catch my breath. You were up there, in all your beauty, and I swore I wanted to marry you right then and there. Your hair was blowing in the wind and you were wearing white, and I was like 'Shit. You're gonna be mine one day' because I knew that you were trouble and I didn't care because I would go to the ends of the earth for you to even look my way. It was then, I knew. I knew that you would make me the happiest man on Earth. I knew that I would love you for the rest of my life, even if you didn't feel the same. I remember our first date, when we curled up on the couch together and we watched 'Tangled', and the way your eyes lit up at Flynn and Rapunzel's relationship, and I knew instantly that I was going to give you something so much better. Your body is my home, and your arms, my shelter. Our youth may fade, but our love will never be anything finite. Our souls are intertwined now, tied together by the string of fate that led us here. I will search for you in every lifetime. Even if you are on the other side of the world, I will travel the seven seas for even a glimpse of your face.l love you, forever and evermore."

His words are like a drug, seeping into your system and mellowing you out until you can only think of him. You tune out the ceremony until you hear the words you've been longing for ever since you saw him.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!" And in the blink of an eye, Chan's arms are wrapped around you so tightly you fear your body will disintegrate if he loosens his hold on you. His lips are on yours, kissing you with so much passion and intensity that you two are one. When he finally pulls away, he wraps his arm around you and you look towards your friends and family with a smile. Now comes the final part of your ceremony. The sky has mellowed out now, a shady of navy blue speckled with shimmering stars that you would never see in the city.

Hand-in-hand, you kneel down beside a lantern with both of your names inscribed upon it with a heart. Together, you light it and lift it up so it dances in the breeze, traveling up, up, up, until your love has reached the heavens. You watch it go, your head on Chan's shoulder and his arm around you.

"Thank you for loving me." you whisper in his ear.

"Don't thank me like this is a chore, it is a choice. And from now until the end of time, my choice will always be you."

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[1025flora]

skz as your best friend who is (not so) secretly in love with you

genre fluff , humor pairing ot8 skz x !femreader warnings not proofread

chan

"oh yeah yn is my best friend actually"

literally obsessed.

tries to hide the delulu (not good at it)

tells you about every single project he's working on

honestly just get married already???

most people think you're actually dating...

became your friend because he thought you were pretty, but stayed your friend because of a thousand other reasons

definitely takes notes for you when you're out

lots of dimple smiles when you do literally anything???

minho

quiet in public, but the world time yapping champion when its just you two

will say the most cruel and slanderous thing while looking at you with the most loving eyes

texts random bad selfies with no context

gags and scoffs when people suggest you two as an item, but on the inside he's eeking

"send me that pic of you from earlier"

you may or may not be the only person on his private story

attends every single event you're involved in, no matter how inconvenient it would be for him

soonie, doongie, and dori adore you

changbin

buddy (romantic)

thinks about you every second of his day

"hey look what i made!!"

needs everybody to know that you are his best friend

"she even asked me for the time..." *fist pump*

doesn't pressure you to go to the gym with him but he reeeaaaallyyyyyy wants you to

"do u hate me" texts in the middle of the night

swings his legs when you guys call

waits for you outside your classes so you can walk in between periods together

wants to be nonchalant and cool and mysterious about you SO BAD but he fails

hyunjin

ouh this man is delulu!!!

has your future lives planned out in a pinterest board

sketches you in class

"hey babe" when you are BOTH single

late night grocery store runs for no reason... he just likes how you look at night

"i forgot my wallet🥺" typa man

fully convinced you do not and will not love him romantically

a textbook hopeless romantic

will wait for you outside in any weather. coldfront, heatwave, rain, shine, that man is THERE

all the nicknames... like definitely calls you "blondie" if you're blonde

jisung

so nervous around you even though you two are best friends???

writes songs for you all the time, terrified to show you

one day wishes to sing every single one to you

"good morning!" "how was your day pook?!" "good night <3" every. single. day. never misses

prefers to just stay in and talk with you, about anything

"bbama misses youuuu" whenever you aren't at his house

you do make him flustered most of the time

a couple playlists made just for you tucked in his spotify library

wants to call you all the couple names but afraid you'll hate it

talks about you with the guys (they are SICK of it)

his thoughts towards you are just the lyrics of gorgeous by taylor swift

felix

tells you absolutely EVERYTHING

5 paragraph essay about his day every night

and yes expects the exact same from you...

you text on discord (sorry)

makes treats just for you in secret

in any setting that you aren't in, he calls you his

makes video memos for you when you're gone and secretly hopes you'll do the same

his sisters tease him daily about how he talks about you, but he doesn't care

wants everybody but you to know he loves you

his second favorite color is your favorite color

seungmin

all of the confidence and sly in his attitude vanishes as soon as you walk into the room

your personal butler

holds your hand just 'cause

"this would look so good on you"

you two share headphones everywhere

head on your shoulder, chin on your shoulder, oh and definitely elbow on your shoulder

matches his jewelry to yours

at karaoke, he points and sings at you for the love songs, but you usually think he's joking

will love you unconditionally forever, even if you never feel the same

jeongin

"but you looked hot...? why are you changing"

weirdly confident around you, like his attitude changes when you walk into the room

loves to do your makeup, and vice versa

he jokes so much that you think he's sarcastically in love, little do you know it's all from the heart

brings you coffee every morning at school/work

"this song reminded me of you"

makes sure your outfits coordinate

pays for EVERYTHING

you are his princess!!!!! in every sense of the word!!!

a/n omg first post here..... hope u guys like it 🙏 reblog or like if you read puhlease

[readychilledwine]

what do you think about azriel x autumn court reader , she is also eris’s cousin, where she is utterly obsessed with halloween/ fall and she decorates the whole house of wind with spooky decor and little pumpkins everywhere. She hides little jumpscares, yk the ones that are in grocery stores, she hides them behind closet doors so whoever opens them gets a nasty creature in their face. Like I can imagine rhysand screaming and cursing her for the jumpscare and feyre just giggles w reader

And she make everyone drink pumpkin spice stuff and claims it is a must. Reader is also in her baking era and bakes so much everyday, the second someone comes in the house, they smell delicious treats. She really channels her inner autum court girl. And during fall she really only wears her clothes from the autumn court. She gets az to visit the autumn court now that eris is high lord, and she takes him to town to drink spiced cider and caramel apples and they have the best time.😭❤️

The Last Cabin on the Left

Summary - after moving to the Night Court to be with Azriel, y/n Vanserra has strived to bring an Autumn Court Tradition to your new home, and this year you've pulled out all the stops

Warnings - spooky themes, pranks, Nyx and cousins being adorable, matching couples costumes, general fluff, Azriel dressed like a pirate

A/n - I tweaked this request a little bit, and I hope that's okay 💜

Azriel smiled as the scent of candies, pumpkin, and apple cider hit his nose.

You had done it again, and it never ceased to amaze him. The cabin you two shared on the edge of the woods was decorated to celebrate an Autumn Court Tradition you, Eris, and Lucien called Hallows Eve. 

He remembered you explaining it to him passionately as you two moved pumpkins and haybales around the yard 5 years ago.

In Autumn, it was a night where children were allowed to dress up in little costumes and go door to door in search of candies and treats. It was also a night where teens and adults tended to try to scare each other through stories, pranks, and sometimes decor.

Eris flat out told them when he confirmed the tradition that you were the best conjurer on cheap scares and tricks. He had told Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian of his aunt and Uncle's party and fair they threw for the territory they looked over. It was one night where your Father, the true opposite of Beron, was able to argue that with costumes and masks, you truly could not tell who was rich, who was poor, who was greater, and who was lesser.

He couldn't help but to smile as he heard you humming softly. You were sat at the table, decorating dipped apples for the party you two were hosting tomorrow. "How's my pumpkin today?" He to moved to you, kissing the top of your head before stealing one of little hard coated chocolates you were using. "House looks fantastic."

"Thank you," You were beaming with excitement and joy, flooding it down the bond. "I wanted to make the first Hallows Eve party with Eris and Mara amazing."

Azriel flooded you back with his love, admiration, and adoration. "Did you hear who Nyx is dressing up as?"

"No baby," you added a touch of white edible sparkles to the apple you were making look like a spiderweb, "what's he coming as?"

Azriel sat down, watching with loving eyes as you hand crafted each and every element of this party to perfection. "He's coming as Cassian." You paused. "And Cassian and Lucien's boys?"

"No," you started laughing. "They're not doing this."

"Oh they are," Azriel confirmed. "Sat there while the three of them showed me and everything."

You paused slightly. "Are you going to have to loan out the shadow babies? I need them." 

Azriel shook his head, smiling hard enough his dimples showed. "No, the shadow babies are all yours, pumpkin." Azriel stood, walking over to the closet to put his jacket away and you smirked, watching and waiting. 

You had conjured a mirror in that closet that created the creature the person who was looking into it was most afraid behind them before it would disappear quickly. 

Azriel jumped, "Mother above," and quickly slammed the door shut after throwing his jacket in. He took a few deep breaths, hands placed firmly on his knees before staring at you. "Really?"

You picked up the spider you had crafted from dark chocolate and placed it off center on its web, finishing the caramel and dark chocolate dipped apple. "There's more. My goal is to finally get Cassian this year. Hence why I need the shadow babies." 

Azriel scoffed lightly. "He's used to my shadows, dove. He's not going to-" Azriel paused as you looked at him, a small devious smirk on your perfect face. "You found him." 

You nodded. "I did."

-

Lucien and Elain were the first to arrive to you home. They were dressed like an old Autumn's tale of a phantom who haunted one of the many Opera Houses and one of his legendary victims. 

Lucien looked dangerous in his black suit and cape. Half of his face was covered in the famed white mask the Phantom wore to the performances. 

Elain was in the last dress the famed female performer was ever seen in, a white corset gown with a white lace robe. Her hair was curled into spirals and adorned with jewels. 

Their son was tucked behind them, waiting so politely for his cousins that you could not help but melt at the sight. Or maybe it was the sight of him dressed up as a little version of Rhysand that had your handing him his first sweet for the night in a hushed tone and a wink. 

Feyre, Rhys, and Nyx arrived next. The High Lord and Lady had also dressed in a matching couples costume. Rhys was in brown pants and a green tunic. He had a hat with a feather tucked into it and brown belt hanging loosely on his hips. He smiled at you as he walked in a tiny illyrian leather wearing Nyx. 7 red stones were glued in place. "He was hoping you could glamor him to have Cassian's face scars?" Rhys rolled his eyes. "I offered to do it, but you know how he loves when you do the final touches on their little outfits." 

You brought Nyx close to you, and wiggled your nose, making the heir giggle. A scar appeared through his brow and lower lip, "You're still too handsome to look like Uncle Cass, baby." 

Nyx got really close to you, pulling down on your dress gently, "Did you make the peanut butter chocolate covered cereal with the white fluffy sugar?"

You just nodded, handing him the same treat you had given his cousin who was squirming on Rhysand's lap, as the High Lord adjusted his jacket lapels. "Once we're in full swing, everything is free game for all of you, okay?" Nyx nodded, running eagerly to his cousin and looking over all the games and snacks you had. 

Feyre appeared next to you, iridescent see through wings conjured on her back and a short green dress that looked as if it was made of layered leaves. "I heard you acquired the thing."

"I cannot confirm nor deny that there is an ancient God of fear in my home." You handed her a lemon drop secretly. "I really like the lost boy and pixie idea." 

She shrugged. "Rhys just wanted me to wear this dress." 

Eris and his mate entered your home next, Azriel immediately standing to hug your cousin and take their baby from them. They were also dressed as legends. The God of Death and Goddess of Spring. Eris wore a black tunic with gold jewelry wrapping his bicep as he held his mate close to him. Mara had her long blonde hair pinned up, a crown of bones and roses resting on her head. Her pink dress was adorned with flowers and pearls. She waved to you with a bring smile on her face. "How many doors should we be afraid to open?" Her bell-like voice rang. You only smiled in response. "All of them."

They had dressed their daughter in a little blue shimmering gown. Azriel walked her to you, tears lining his eyes. "Look at our good daughter," he stroked her soft cheek with one of his fingers. "Eris said they'll probably change her so we have to enjoy this while we can." 

"Did you let them know we have a little room ready for her whenever?" Azriel nodded, his soft eyes never leaving her face. "We should go change, my love. Let Lucien have his niece."

Azriel handed her off before you two went up the stairs. "You are sure Nyx is okay with the shadows standing ominously behind him?" Azriel nodded, pulling out his costume and quickly changing. You could feel through the bond he desperately wanted to get back to the little Autumn Heiress.

You saw him in leather everyday, but something about him quickly changing into those loose leather pants and that open white tunic with jewelry had your heart pounding. He strapped the leather belt and weapons to his waist while staring at you. "Later, my lady. Little princess cuddles first."

He helped you get into your own costume, similar to his, being careful not to over tighten the corset you had on. You stared at the two of you in the mirror as he kissed your temple. "We should become pirates." 

Azriel shook his head, smacking you playfully on the butt. "I have all the booty I need right here."

The two of you made your way back downstairs. You run up behind your nephew, grabbing Nyx and pulling him into the kitchen. "Are you ready for shadows to loom over you oh so ominously?" You tickled him gently as you asked, and he nodded eagerly. 

"You promise Uncle Cass will scream?" You and Azriel nodded. "Revenge." Nyx said with a serious look. "Also. When are we doing the candy?" 

Azriel ran a hand through Nyx's hair. "Soon, little bat." A sudden feminine scream had Azriel and you looking up.

Rhys had opened the door where you had created an illusion. Opening the door would cause a mist and dust like figure to appear before it began rushing towards the person standing there, deathly thin hands and fingers reached out to rip them into what appeared to be a void. 

Rhys stood with his hand on his chest, eyes wide in fright. "Mother above, y/n! Why?!" 

Feyre began to giggle, hiding her head in Lucien's shoulder. "You should have seen your face."

Rhys glared at his mate. "I will never understand your amusement in these things, Feyre Darling."

Eris muttered softly from next to you, surrendering his daughter once again to Azriel. He handed one of the hand-made soft caramels to Nyx and Lucien's son. "It's more the look on your face that's amusing, Rhysand Darling." He paused, looking around. "Where are our other friends?"

Azriel took a cookie, breaking it in half for the boys as their mothers fell into a deep conversation, not noticing as their sons were fed sugar. "Cassian and the girls will be here soon. Mor is in Winter with Viv. Amren is still in Summer."

Lucien rose a brow, smirking. "Still? It's been almost 2 months."

Azriel nodded. "It's not him. It's her." 

"You two won't be much better," Rhys said casually as he looked between you and Azriel. 

Azriel sighed, "Soon."

You perked up as the door open, smiling in an almost feral way to Eris. "And the show begins." 

The Valkyries came in first, carrying a few snacks with them and adding to the table. They were all in black dresses with black corsets. Nesta had a ceremony knife strapped to her waist, Gwyn had shimmering potion bottles on hers, and Emerie had an old leather bound book. Cassian came in next with his and Nesta's son, holding his hand as he hid behind his father. 

For such a loud outgoing male and a bold daring female, they had given birth to the quietest being you had ever met. You kneeled down, holding your arms out to him and he ran to you instantly.  Cassian was dressed in black robes, he also carried a book of ancient spells and rituals. "Little guy is nervous over the spooky pumpkins in the yard."

You nodded, lifting your nephew as you held him close. "I'm sorry, bud." He reached for Eris, and the male took him, smiling at his little leathers with bright blue siphons.

"Did you want Uncle Azriel's shadows or no?" He nodded shyly, resting his head on Eris's shoulder. "You know, Auntie y/n bought extra pumpkins for you three to decorate tonight. We can have Auntie Fey help yours look really cool and less spooky."

Feyre's smile grew. "We could turn it into a kitty, or a carriage!" 

"Can we play?" He whispered. "And have candy?"

You all nodded. "I made all three of you super special apples this year. And apple sauce for our little princess."

The boys all nodded excited, and you looked at Azriel, giving him the code to begin Cassian's torment. He made a shadowy figure appear behind Nyx, following the little heir to where you had set up games for them and little snack bags for when they got to run through the House going from room to room to collect candy. Cassian stared at the figure and then Nyx. Ignoring it at first as he socialized and got drinks for himself and his trio of witches. 

His glance kept going to Nyx as the night passed and the littles played games, smiling and screaming through the House as they found each hidden scare behind the doors and collected their candy from the shadows waiting for them. 

"You out did yourself and exceeded expectations once again, sister," Rhysand leaned on the counter next to you, smiling as he drank his spiked cider. "Though I would like to know why the shadows are looming over my son."

You smiled at the boys, watching as they pulled Cassian to the last door to be opened before they got to sit with their hand made candies and make smores. "Just watch, brother," Azriel said smoothly, a scarred hand running up and down your arm as he watched with a smirk. 

"Daddy, please!" A tiny version of Azriel pushed Cassian towards the door. "You have to! Mommy did one!"

Cassian looked to Nesta, who nodded in confirmation. "It was a mirror, but instead of reflecting me, it was the King of Hybern holding his head."

Cassian rolled his shoulders back, popping his neck quickly and shaking his hands out. He knocked, thinking he was activating the magic to be ready, and you just smirked. He opened the door and froze before a scream echoed in the house causing Rhys to spit out his cider into the sink and cough. The room was silent, waiting for the shadowed figure to disappear, "You didn't," Rhys whispered.

"Oh, she did." Cassian backed away slowly, putting the three boys behind him just as Bryaxis disappeared. His shoulders visibly relaxed falling into a false sense of comfort as the 3 boys and Nesta began to giggle. 

"He's right behind me, isn't he?" Feyre nodded, a tattooed hand covering her mouth. Cassian turned his head in a comedic fashion, whispering it was all fake, just cheap tricks you had conjured to scare the kids. "Just cheap tricks." He repeated over and over until he opened his eyes and looked up, staring straight into the looming figure of an ancient God of Terror. 

"Boo," Bryaxis hissed out. Cassian screamed again, running to hide behind Nesta and leaving the three boys their holding out their candy bags.

"Trick or treat," they sang to him in unison. You all watched as the God pulled the largest candy bags you had packaged out, putting on in each bag after shifting himself into an adult sized replica of the little shadow babies behind Nyx. Bryaxis floated to Gwyneth, seeming to almost smile down at her. "You have left the library?"

She nodded. "It took some encouragement, but yes. We miss you protecting us." Bryaxis moved to Feyre, shadowy limbs moving her hair gently. 

"I am ready to come home." Feyre seemed to melt on the spot. "If you will still host me." Cassian turned to Rhys, his face falling in terror as the High Lord nodded to his lady. "Did I get a window?"

"Several actually," Feyre confirmed. "You have a sky light now. It's enchanted to protect you from the sun and darken the room during the day, but allow you to see out at night and admire the stars." Bryaxis nodded, disappearing out the window and towards the House of Wind. 

Cassian turned to you, "What the fuck was that for?"

You took a sip of water, "Dropping me on purpose on April Fool's Day." 

Cassian opened his mouth to defend himself, but paused as he saw his son and cousin giggling as they sat in a little circle. 

Eris entered the room, smiling broadly and gently pushing Lucien. "Fire is ready if the boys are." He turned to Cassian. "I thought for a second I needed to come rescue my mate when you screamed. Then I remembered her and Aspyn were next to me." Laughter erupted through the room as Cassian smirked at Eris. The two males jokingly shoved each other, smiling as they grabbed drinks.

Everyone left the room laughing as Eris and Cassian verbally picked on each other, heading to the large bonfire. You, Rhys, and Azriel stood inside, waiting for the door to shut before the High Lord turned to you two.

"I had a thought I wanted to speak to you about y/n," Rhys grabbed a handful of the trail mix you had made. "We've enjoyed this tradition so much the past few years, and if you are okay with it, I would like to introduce it to all of Velaris next year."

He paused, watching excitement set in on your face. "I just imagine the streets full of children enjoying the festivities. We do not have many holidays and traditions aimed towards them, and this truly seems to be from them more than adults."

You nodded, smile growing. "I would need you to lead the community on it. Hold meetings explaining traditions, teach the citizens how to make treats, talk to seamstresses about costume designs. Could you do that for me?"

"Yes!" You bounced in place, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Of course I can!"

"You will have to do one more thing, sweetness," Rhys tilted your chin up to his face. "Nyx will never forgive me if Auntie y/n stops having her haunted cabin. I need this to continue until the boys lose interest, and even then after that for Aspyn and this little ones you two may have some day. I know it's been a discussion." He smirked at your non verbal confirmation.  "Nyx will want to take part when he's older during set up and execution. He dreams about it and has little maps of ideas in his room."

You and Azriel had froze, your mate's hand and arm coming around your waist. "What gave away that we were trying?"

Rhys pointed towards your untouched cider and the candy and snacks you and Azriel had been eating all night. "She hasn't drank alcohol for the past 3 months, you have been deligated missions that keep you far from home for too long, and you, dear brother, have been even more obsessed with little Aspyn. The last click was the baggy costume instead of her being your arm candy tonight like she normally is. No one else knows that you're actively trying. I will keep it to myself until you're ready." 

Rhys leaned in, kissing your forehead. "Think about my request. We will loan all the help you need. Excuse me while I go stop my wife from eating all of the marshmallows."

You and Azriel stood there, the shadowsinger placing soft kisses on your temple, then cheek, and neck. "You did a wonderful job, dove. The shadows have been whispering everyone's praises back to me all night." You smiled, turning in his arms to kiss his jaw. "Let's go get smores. I know you have been waiting for them all day."

He grabbed the bowl you had been digging in all night and your hand. The two of you smiled as Eris told the three young boys a campfire story, bouncing his daughter gently on his knee as he did.

Cassian wrapped an arm around you as you sat next to him, "Great party again, even if you scared me shitless."

"Did Rhysie tell you what he wants to do next year?" Cassian nodded. "What do you think?"

"As long as Auntie's spooky cabin continues, I'm in. Ness and I will help however we can."

"Then we should do it."

He nodded, watching as Azriel used his shadows to scare the boys at the perfect point in Eris's story. "Yes, yes, we should."

[moremaybank]

I'LL GO ANYWHERE YOU GO — j.m

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

summary your best friend jj gives you a token to show you how much he treasures you.

warnings none, just soft!jj with hella fluff because i said so

jj masterlist

you stood in front of your mirror, desperately trying to fasten the clasp of your necklace but failing miserably. 

“you almost ready? the kegger’s about to— oh. need a hand?” jj asks, walking into your room and tossing his backpack on your bed carelessly. 

“actually, yeah. this clasp is tricky as hell.”

he chuckles wordlessly, striding over to you so he can help. or so you thought. jj takes the necklace out of your hands and discards it on your dresser, and your brows furrow in response.

“hey,” you frown, “what are you doing? i need help putting it on, not taking it off.”

“i have a surprise for you,” he replies, as if he isn’t up to no good. he reaches into the back pocket of his distressed shorts and pulls out a small black velvet box. he extends his hand to you, but you give him a puzzled look.

“oh god, what did you do?”

he chuckles, “why are you just assuming that i’ve done something?”

“because you’re you. i know you way too well, and at this point, if you’re giving me something in a velvet-wrapped box, it means you’ve done something bad. possibly illegal.”

“not true. i’m doing this out of the goodness of my own heart.”

you stare at him warily, not sure what to make of whatever the blonde boy is handing you. he looks a little too eager for your liking, and you’re not sure if you should be nervous or aiding and abetting an escape from the law. but then he flashes you a grin, his signature dimple on full display, and you know you can’t resist him.

“come on. i worked my ass off to get you this. even had the store put it on hold,” he tells you. 

“jj, how many times do i have to tell you that i don’t want you spending your hard-earned money on me? it should be spent on you.”

“princess, i only need three things in life to be happy; weed, beer, and you.”

“so you’ve given up on food and water?” you question, cocking your head at him with a smart-ass look.

“alcohol and the devil’s lettuce will sustain me for as long as god intends, pretty girl. now will you open the box?” he asks, placing the small box into your hands. 

“you’re not proposing to me, are you? ‘cause if you are, you should buy me dinner first.”

“for the love of all things holy, will you just open it?”

you huff a sigh, “fine.” 

you open the lid, and your eyes instantly land on a breathtaking necklace. the pendant was of the letter ‘j,’ and it reflected off the sunlight beaming into your bedroom. 

“jj…” you breathe, not being able to help the tears from welling up in your eyes. “i— it’s beautiful. you sure you didn’t steal it? be honest,” you deflect. you try your hardest not to read too much into it, but you can’t help it. the thought of jj, your jj, giving you a necklace with the initial of his first name to take the place of your current everyday necklace makes your heart swell. it’s like carrying him with you, right next to it, everywhere you go.

“i swear, princess. i didn’t steal it. i saw it a couple of months ago when i was with john b and sarah in some kook store over on figure eight, and i decided to save up for it so i could give it to you. consider it an early birthday present for my favourite girl.”

“j, my birthday isn’t for six months. and it’s not that i don’t appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have had to pinch pennies to give me this. you work so hard, and you deserve every cent you earn.”

he sets the small jewelry box aside on your dresser and takes your hands into his, thumbs brushing over your knuckles as he gazes deeply into your eyes. the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen.

“listen. you’ve given me everything. a place to rest my head when i need it, the most beautiful heart i’ve ever known, and my favourite person in the world. you deserve this and so much more. plus, you’re my best friend, and i can spoil you any time i goddamn please.”

you blush, avoiding his gaze as you stare down at your intertwined fingers. “you are so sweet, y’know that? too much for your own good.”

“i try,” he beams at you but shrugs his shoulders casually as if to say it isn’t a big deal.

“you succeed,” you say. “will you put it on for me?” 

he smiles so wide that you can tell how much you and the personal piece of jewelry mean to him. “of course, pretty girl. turn around.”

you do as he says, facing your back to him and gathering your hair so you can move it out of the way. jj carefully removes the necklace from the miniature jewelry box and places the chain over your collarbone as he fastens it behind your neck. his fingers linger for a moment as he moves to retreat, and you feel a warmth, his warmth surge through you as he touches you. goosebumps erupt all over your skin as you feel the electricity from his hands course throughout your body.

you both look at your shared reflection in the mirror, and your gaze locks on his ocean-blue eyes. jj offers you a smile that’s impossible not to return as you both stand together so close. you can practically feel the quick thump-thumping of his heart against the skin of your back as he begins to blush.

his hands move to your shoulders. “now you’ll always have a piece of me with you. it’s cheesy as hell, but you’re destined for greatness. i believe that. so, no matter where you go, what you conquer, or how far you are from me, i’ll always be there for you. i’ll always protect you.”

“i love you, j,” you breathe. you turn back to face him. “you know that if i ever get out of here, i’m bringing you with me, right? i’m not me without you,” you mumble into his shoulder after throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace.

of course, you mean it more than platonically, but the words are true to your heart either way. your love for him constantly overtook your being, but it was to the most significant degree at this moment. you’re desperate to ensure that he knows how much you appreciate him. jj has gone through so much of his life thinking he wasn’t enough for anyone that crossed his path, but that was never the case for you. he always came through, no matter when you needed him. especially then. 

“i’ll go anywhere you go,” he whispers. his hand cradled the back of your head as he held you to him, instantly sighing in contentment at how close the two of you were. “and i love you too, my pretty girl. so much more than you’ll ever know. and i hope that someday i can prove it to you.”

little did he know that he proved the strength of his adoration for you every day.

jj tag list (join here!): @maybankslover @kittyqrt @v-velvetykisscs @hobiibobii @rafesdior @fool4him @hemogloban @pankhoeforlife @rafesmuse @lyn07 @houseofperfecttaste @qualitybelieverflower @dudenhaaa27 @princessbetsy123-blog @tori-loves1 @alexxavicry @kenzi-woycehoski @elijahssuit @skydisneylover @adoreyouusugar @obxjjpouge @conniesanchor @baby-maybank @angel037 @wotfasked @rafelover

[hyunnielix]

I was thinkin' about who you are. | bang chan

【☆】 pairing - bang chan x reader

【☆】 genre - angst, mentions of a breakup, fluff, soft!dom bang chan

【☆】 word count - 3.3k (unedited i apologise)

【☆】 warnings - degradation but also praise kink because im weird, oral sex (f receiving), marking, possessive!chan, overstimulation, mention of Felix

The last thing you expected on your doorstep was your ex.

⋆｡°✩ listening - ‘little freak’ by harry styles ⋆｡°✩

The frosting was a perfect shade of baby blue. Smoothing the edges further to create a more minimalistic look. You smiled triumphantly, finally finishing the icing on the cake. Stepping away from the bench, you took a moment to appreciate your own artistry. Although your hands were a mess as well as accidently getting the frosting on your face you considered the cake to be a success.

The sunflower design decorating the front of the dessert made you feel giddy inside. Another one for the instagram page, that was for sure. Reaching for your phone on the counter, you decided to take a couple of photos. Attempting to not coat the device in sugar. 

It almost slipped from your fingers as a loud knock startled you. Your brows furrowed; Felix wasn’t supposed to be here until five. The clock on your phone read otherwise. 

You ran to the sink, washing your hands hurriedly before wiping them off with a cloth. Making your way to the door you hesitated. There was another knock, this time a lot softer.

Your hand came in contact with the handle, pulling it down before swinging it open. The smile previously on your features vanished at the sight in front of you. Swallowing so harshly you were sure everyone in the apartment complex could hear you. 

“Chan?”

A sigh left his lips; awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He looked as gorgeous as ever, his blonde hair fluffier than usual. Your lips parted as you took in his appearance. Lingering on his dimple as his smile was sheepish, avoiding eye contact. 

“Uhm,” He paused, you could read the panic in his eyes. “I- I didn’t really think this through.” He let out a nervous giggle. You felt your chest clench at the noise, one that used to be so familiar. 

Your gaze found itself glued to the carpet beneath you, kicking your foot against the material as a distraction. “Do you- would you like to come in?”

His stressed expression softened, mouth parting in an ‘o’ shape at your offer. He pursed his lips, thinking it through. You almost regretted asking as the uncomfortable silence made your skin crawl. 

“I don’t want to intrude-,” He began, pursing his lips into a smile. One which broke your heart; he seemed just as nervous as you were. “Chan.”

The corner of your lip downturned as you spoke his name, a longing behind the tone. He exhaled softly, taking in the expression on your face. Your head tilted slightly, eyebrows raised. 

“Alright.”

You stepped to the side, gesturing for him to enter your apartment. Closing the door softly behind. Chan was refamiliarizing himself with the room, his hands comfortably hidden in his sweatpants. 

“No photos?” He asked, sending you a questioning look. You used to have photo frames and polaroid's everywhere. Hating how bland the apartment looked without a splash of your personality. 

You knew subconsciously what he was asking, or yet stating. The photos of us are gone.

“Thought it was time to redecorate.” You couldn’t help the spite that reared it’s ugly head at the choice of your words. You could tell it affected him by the amount of times he blinked, his head dipping forward. You almost wanted to apologize, but bit your tongue. 

You passed by him, heading towards the kitchen once more. He eyed the bottle top seats before you nodded your head, giving him permission to sit down. You returned your focus on the cake. 

He clambered onto the seat, silently admiring the design you’d created. “You’ve really improved.” 

“Would you like some?” You gestured, grabbing a knife from one of the cabinets. You didn’t dare look at him when you asked. 

Your question caught him off guard. His brows furrowed, frowning slightly. “How can you do that?”

You tilted your head, hesitating before slicing into the dessert you’d slaved over in the kitchen for hours. He answered your question before you even asked, “You’re still so nice to me.”

“It’s just cake Chan.” You chuckled awkwardly, trying to dismiss his claim. Placing a perfectly cut triangle piece on a napkin, you pushed it towards him. Trying your best to avoid eye contact. Although by the way your hands were shaking you’re sure he knew. 

He muttered a thank you before continuing, “We both know it’s not just that.” 

“Why are you here?” Your shoulders dropped, hands now outstretched on the bench as you stared him down. “I thought you made it pretty clear that this was over.” You gestured between the both of you, almost sounding hysterical as your patience was wearing thin. 

“I realised it was a mistake.” He exhaled, fiddling with his hands. “That’s why I’m here.”

Your grip on the bench grew stronger, knuckles turning white from frustration. “No, you don’t get to give me that false hope Chan.”

He frowned at the strain in your voice as you spoke. Glancing at the floor once more, you began to shake your head. “I’ve been sleeping in your old shirt because I miss you.” Your voice cracked as you tried to articulate how you felt about his absence. Chan’s brows furrowed, pain in his expression at seeing your hurt. 

You swallowed, gasping slightly. You pressed the back of your wrist to your mouth trying to prevent any strangled sound from escaping. You continued to blink keep the oncoming tears at bay. Which proved to be a lot harder than you thought it would be. 

He stood up from the seat, making his way around the kitchen counter. You stepped back, shaking your head as he approached. His expression full of concern. You held your hands to your chest as some form of protection from the aching you felt. Refusing to lift your head to his level. 

“Hey,” Chan whispered softly. He caught your eyeline as he dipped down, glancing up at you. He raised both of his hands, hesitating at first. He lifted your chin with his pointer fingers, forcing you to hold eye contact as you cried. The wetness streaking down your face continued, unable to prevent the emotions bubbling inside. He softly brushed his thumbs against your cheeks, wiping away the onslaught of tears. The tenderness of the action made you want to cry more. Instead you closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing and his touch. “That’s it angel, just keep breathing; focus on me.”

You nodded at his words of affirmation, slowly regaining a hold on your emotions. Your hands gripped his forearms, brushing your own fingertips against his skin to ground yourself. Reminding yourself that he was physically present. A total contrast to how the last two months had been. You couldn’t help the instinct to nuzzle further into his hand as he cupped your cheek. 

“Y/N, I can’t function without you.” The sincerity in his tone frightened you. Nodding slowly to show him you understood his words. “I can’t focus, you consume me. As much as I didn’t want to admit it pretty girl, I was scared.”

Your heart fluttered at the term of endearment, further calming you down until you were steadily breathing. “I thought you only ever cared about your work Chan.” 

His jaw clenched at your mumbled statement, his hands now falling to yours. He held them so gently. “I didn’t mean to be dismissive, I understand that now. I’m sorry.”

He returned his gaze to yours, squeezing your hands “And I’ll always be sorry. I would do anything for you to not hate me.”

The corner of your lip upturned into a sad smile. “I never hated you Chan.”

“I was worried there for a second.” He quipped, smiling so brightly it made your chest tighten. You couldn’t fight the urge, pressing your forefinger into the dimple below his mouth. He tilted his head at the action, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

You mumbled through the sniffles. “You’re so cute.” His cheeks began to redden from the compliment. You loved it when he got shy. 

“Come ere’.” You obeyed him, almost throwing yourself into his embrace. His arms wound their way around your waist. Burying his nose into the crook of your neck. You hugged him back in earnest. 

He inhaled deeply, before realising something. “Is this not my shirt as well?” His fingers twisted the hem of the grey graphic tee as he pulled back. You pursed your lips, nodding slightly. 

His fingers continued to wander, itching higher underneath the shirt. The pads of his fingertips brushed against your skin, causing your breath to hitch. He seemed entranced. His breathing pattern had changed as he rubbed his hand up and down your torso. Goosebumps began to pepper your skin as your mouth fell open. 

He squeezed your side before leaning forward, whispering softly. “Let me show you how much I love you.” His hot breath on your skin made your eyes flutter shut. “Please.”

A whimper escaped your mouth at the desperation in his tone. Your hand reaching out to grip his bicep, he pressed his forehead to yours. Backing you slowly into the wall. His palm rested on your back, pressing you into him. “That’s my good girl.”

You felt him smile into your shoulder as he intently listened to your body’s reaction. You couldn’t help but arch your back, pressing your chest to his as he continued exploring. “Chan...”

He almost cursed at the breathiness in your tone. Knowing he got you this worked up so easily. 

“I know, I know... I’m going to take my time with you.” He mumbled in between pressing feather light kisses behind your ear. He pressed his hot mouth against your neck. Spending more time lavishing other areas, he grazed his teeth against the skin. “Hmm? want me to mark you up?”

Your whole body almost folded at the possessiveness in his tone, unable to keep your head straight. He pulled back, one of his brows raised, a lazy smirk adorning his features. He admired the glazed look in your eyes, lips parted slightly before you poked your tongue out to wet them. 

You decided to take charge, one of your hands sliding into his hair. You pulled him towards you, pressing your lips onto his hastily. You tilted your head, swiping your tongue over his bottom lip to tease him. A groan escaped his mouth at your boldness. 

He tapped his fingers underneath your thighs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hesitantly pulled back. Jumping, he supported your thighs as you hooked them around him. “Were you with anyone? when I was gone?”

He held your back upright as you stared down at him, out of breath. You tilted your head at his question, wondering if you should be honest. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. You almost wondered if it was out of nervousness.

You shook your head. “No one can fill me as well as you do.”

He hissed at your statement. Manhandling you into a position where he could slide you onto the kitchen bench. “Chan the cake!”

Stepping in between your thighs, he glanced up at you grinning. "There’s something else I’d much rather eat.”

You pulled his arms towards you, trying to get as physically close as you can. He captured your lips in another heated kiss. Your mouth parted slightly as you let out a gasp, feeling one of his hands underneath your shirt. He traced the material of your bralette. "You always sound so pretty don't you?"

"No more teasingggg." You whined, finding his mouth again. He nipped at your bottom lip, slightly chucking at your impatience. You licked into his mouth, trying to savour the taste of him.

He pulled away first, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs. Admiring the fucked out look on your face, eyes blown wide and lips slightly swollen.

"Shirt." You mumbled. "Take it off."

He obeyed you. Crossing his arms to grip the hem of his black shirt to pull it off, the chain around his neck dangling at the movement.

You gestured with your finger for him to come closer. A little smile adorning your features at the view, "Now take mine off."

He slowly began to shimmy the singlet off, pressing kisses to your neck. "Arms up pretty."

You lifted them as he tugged it off. Your chest heaved, you'd never been this worked up in your life. Feeling like you could spontaneously combust any second now from how he's been treating you.

His hand wrapped around your throat, manhandling you on the bench until you were laying down. Your body so malleable and pliant against his. He squeezed slightly.

"Chan I need you.. please." You begged, almost in tears. You wriggled your body against the table, wanting to feel him. 

He removed his hand from your throat, instead focusing back on your thighs. Allowing his hands to wander underneath the pleated skirt you wore, a short one at that. "Always so needy." He tutted, snapping the elastic band of your underwear against your skin. 

His mouth parted as he bent down, hoisting you closer to the edge of the bench. The wet spot on your underwear almost causing him to salivate. "I haven't even done anything and you're this wet?"

Chan pressed soft butterfly kisses against the inside of your thighs, purposefully ignoring the spot you wanted him most. “Patience.” He reminded you, smirking against your skin. 

He brushed his fingertips against the spot, lifting his gaze to yours. You nodded, glancing down at him as he pushed your skirt up further around your waist. Embarrassment dusted across your cheeks at the humiliation.

He exhaled softly before pressing his mouth against the fabric. Humming against you, a squeak fell from your lips at the familiar sensation of him against you. Mouthing at your cunt, he continued giving you soft kitten licks. Your clit throbbed at the attention he was giving you. Reaching down to slip your fingers into the back of his hair. He groaned at your response. 

Growing impatient himself, he hooked his finger tips underneath the elastic band. You lifted your hips, letting him pull the flimsy material off. “Pretty little cunt all for me.”

You prevented the urge to close your thighs around his head. The rasp in his voice was killing you, especially with the dirty talk. He always knew how to push your buttons. 

He leant forward once more, gently sucking on your clit. One of his hands rubbing your hip as you arched into him. Little whimpers fell from your mouth as he lapped up your arousal. His tongue moved in figure eights, the stimulation causing you to feel dizzy. 

You sighed in pleasure as he changed up the pace, greedily eating you out as if he couldn’t get enough. You bucked your hips and he chuckled against you, pressing his palm against your lower stomach. The pressure causing the pleasure to intensify. He buried himself further into you, focusing now on your entrance as his nosed bumped against your clit. The change in stimulation caused your body to go into shock. 

“Chan.. chan...” You were unable to control your moans, gripping the back of his head as you felt your legs begin to shake. He was relentless, licking up your folds until he sucked on your clit once more. The build up in pressure finally releasing. You gasped as he continued to work you through your orgasm, riding out your high on his tongue. 

Your chest heaved. He pulled away, a string of saliva trailing from your cunt to his mouth. His gaze was lidded, wiping his finger across his bottom lip to clean up the rest. Chan stood up, leaning his body over you. 

His chain hung in front of you, a part of you wanted to tug him forward so you could kiss his perfect lips again. Instead, you gnawed on your lip at the sight of him hovering over you. 

He nuzzled his face into your neck, mumbling. “Gonna stretch you out a little bit, yeah?” The softness in his tone made your heart clench, he was trying to be so careful. 

Chan’s fingers teased your entrance, sliding up and down your slick folds as you wriggled against him. “Too much, it’s too much.”

“You can handle it sweetheart.” He whispered, pressing a kiss behind your ear. He pressed two fingers into you, slowly working you open further. Your arms found their way around his back, pulling him into you. His hot breath fanned across your neck as he continued softly thrusting his fingers into your cunt. The wet squelching sounds causing you to shrink against him. You’d probably leave a mess on the bench at this rate. 

You couldn’t help but clench against the thickness of his fingers. Chan responded by swiping his thumb against your abused clit. Your body was aching against him. Running your fingers up and down his chest, you felt the outlines of his abs. He groaned against you as you lightly dragged your nails down his front. 

A singular tear slid down the side of your face, eyes glassy from the pleasure. He licked his lips, still covered in your arousal. Chan pulled away just enough to watch the change in your expression, grunting. “Look so pretty like this.” 

He leant forward, pressing his swollen lips against yours. His tongue licked into your mouth lazily. You hummed against him, tasting yourself on his lips. These kind of make out sessions were your favourite. 

“Taste good?” You nodded as he found the spot that drove you crazy. You gripped his arms, almost crying as he continued his pace. Curling his fingers at the perfect angle to hit it every time. The overstimulation hurt so good, shivers of pleasure ran down your spine as he continued to mumble sweet nothings. 

You felt yourself gush around his fingers, head lolling back completely drunk on the feeling. He continued to rub your clit softly before you batted his hand away, face tear stained from the pleasure. He chuckled at your state. Chan lifted his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them. “Was that your way of apologising?”

Your question came out a lot breathier than you intended, attempting to prop yourself up on your elbows. You felt ridiculously drowsy. He held out his hand for you to grab, pulling your body upright on the bench. 

“Did it work?” He cheekily asked, smiling softly as his hands rested on your hips. You shrugged, “Depends.” Your hand reached for his jeans, slipping your finger underneath the top of the material. Brushing against the material of his boxers, you tilted your head. He knew what you were asking. 

He shook his head at your pleading puppy dog eyes. “This was about you, not me.”

You tugged him forward, pouting. “Please Channie, wanna make you feel good.”

He couldn’t help but admire how cute you looked begging. A slight frown adorning your features as your wandering hands caused an expletive to fall from his lips. 

He gritted his teeth, “You do make me feel good.” His self-control was being put to the test when it came to you. Removing your hands from his body, he held them in front of you pressing a kiss to them. Your heart fluttered at the sight. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You mumbled an ‘alright.’ He helped you slide off the bench. Your legs nearly giving out as they came in contact with the floor. You closed your eyes, blushing ridiculously hard. His arm secured you by holding your torso, pushing against you back so you could stand properly. 

“That good huh?” His little quip caused you to send him a deadly side eye. 

“Shut up.” 

He followed you to your room. A knock on the door caused your eyes to widen. “Oh my god, Felix.”

[helioslover]

CHERRY - CL16

PAIRING : singer!charles leclerc x actress!reader SUMMARY : you listen to the song charles has written about you for the first time. you hate how in love with him you are. WORD COUNT : 4.4k TW : angst, mentions of alcohol, breakup, sex SONG : cherry - harry style

You hate planes. You also hate being too shy to ask the stewardess for a night mask so that you could sleep through the flight. You hate knowing who’ll be picking you up at the airport. You also hate the way you're happy to see a familiar face in a country where you don’t know anyone, even if it is this familiar face. But you mostly hate the way you're eager to see Charles.

You have spoken a lot through the last few months, and you think that maybe the heartache you've felt for so much time has finally healed. Charles' has been staying in Monaco -he now splits his time between there and London - for a couple of weeks as he is recording some new songs for the next album. As unbelievable as it sounds, you have meticulously avoided any of Charles' new songs until now. The only one you're familiar with is Sixteen but you know that title tracks aren’t the ones Charles puts his entire soul in. You aren't ready to hear the brown-haired boy that used to drive you crazy sing about another woman. Yes, you've seen the pictures of Charles and Alexandra and yes, you've cried in your pillow until your body felt so dry that there were no tears left to cry.

“What do you mean you’ve never listened to my songs ever since we broke up ?” Charles had looked so shocked when you told him the truth (not the part about crying yourself to sleep, no, you didn’t mention this) that you had laughed. “Not even the ones from Fast Cars ? We were still talking when I released Fast Cars, Y/N !” His voice sounded raspy and you remembered that it was still early and that Charles had never been a morning person.

“Why are you up so early ?” you were clearly trying to avoid the subject.

“You called me, you idiot. I only answered because it was you. But now, I’m considering the option of hanging up. I mean… I’m not trying to brag but where were you for the last four years ? My songs have been everywhere.”

You chuckled. “Oh for fuck’s sake, I know that. You have no idea how annoying it is to avoid your songs at parties, on the radio, on TV, everywhere, you’re fucking everywhere, dude.”

“Don’t dude me. I think we're a bit closer than that, Y/N.” He was smiling at the camera, showing off his dimples. Behind him was a patchwork of photos, posters and movie tickets hanging on a beige wall. You tried to imagine the rest of the room. “Don’t think I’m forgetting what you just admitted. Mon Dieu,” he sighed overdramatically, “how would you react if I said I never watched any of your movies, huh ?”

You rolled your eyes. “I never said that I didn’t know any of your songs, Charles. I know some of them. But, I hate saying this, I kind of did not want to hear you sing about other people. See what I mean ? It’s alright when it’s from a time where you didn’t even know I existed, I mean some of yours are probably part of my favourite songs, but not when it’s- not when I-”.

“When what, Y/N ?” Charles asked, his voice softened as if he understood how hurt you would feel by hearing songs that weren’t about you.

“Nothing, just leave it. And don’t even try to pretend you’ve seen all of the things I act in. I’m pretty sure you haven’t heard about half of them.”

Charles was now smiling again. “I’ve seen all of them, Y/N. And you were good in every single one of them.”

Something broke inside of your heart because Charles' voice sounded like a warm hug. His statement somehow seemed like a proof that you weren’t the only one to find it hard to get rid of what you felt. And somehow, you hated it. “I gotta go. See you.” And you hung up. You were feeling too many things at the same time. You hated it.

You hate delay. Your plane hasn’t taken off yet and you're already bored. Your neighbor looks like he could be somewhere between fifty and eighty-four and it’s too cloudy to see anything through the window. Your book is not as interesting as it looked like and you know you haven’t downloaded enough playlists. You hate it, not knowing what to do.

You checks your phone to see if Charles has seen your previous message, warning him about your flight being late.

‘its ok, ill still pick you up, y/nickname.’

You smile. Even after all this time, you still don’t know if you hate or loves it when Charles uses your nickname. Another text appears on the screen.

‘since you have time, listen to my favourite one.’

There’s a link leading to a Spotify song and you download it, right before the pilot finally announces that the plane is about to take off. You put on your headphones, press play and instantly, as the first notes of the guitar resonate in your ears, cry.

Don't you call him baby [...] Don't you call him what you used to call me

The first time you called Charles baby wasn’t intentional. You recall the exact moment it slipped out of you mouth and the look Charles gave you after. You were about to have dinner with his mom and his brothers in Charles' flat and you hated how stressed you felt about truly meeting his family even though you'd already been introduced.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you have to warn me about, huh ?” you asked Charles for the hundredth time as you put on a blue shirt that made you look older than you were. Dinner was ready, Charles was too : the only one that was still changing her outfit (for the fourth time already) was you.

“Y/N, I told you : you have nothing to worry about. And you met them already, it’s not like they’re complete strangers.” Charles said from the kitchen where he was setting up the table.

You sighed. You couldn’t help it. The last time you'd seen Charles' family, you were just the girl who starred in his debut movie with him, not the girl he fucked every night. “Maybe blue isn’t my colour, don't I look kind of pale ?" you asked as you joined the kitchen.

“Shh, you’re making me crazy. You look perfect, just like you always do.” Charles handed you a glass of wine. He was wearing a red jacket on some beige pants and looked good. Like really good. “Drink this, it’ll help you.”

The wine was good, really good, and Charles' hands massaging your shoulders felt even better. You hated how Charles always seemed to know what you needed.

“Jesus, baby, this feels good.” The word flew out of your lips so naturally you didn’t even notice at first.

“What did you call me ?”

Your cheeks were turning red under Charles' sharp green eyes. You had seen this look before and knew exactly what usually came right after. “I- um, baby ?”

Charles took a deep breath. His body had gotten closer to yours. “And she does it again, Jesus, Y/N.”

You didn’t exactly understand why such a simple word had such an effect on Charles but you liked it. You liked having this power over him when you usually were the one looking like a middle-school girl talking to her crush for the first time. You felt a knot forming in your stomach, getting eager for a contact with Charles' skin. “Well, baby is gonna have to calm down. At least for now.” you answered, smiling wickedly.

Charles lost his smile. “Y/N. Stop it or I swear I’ll-” The doorbell had rung. Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo were there.

We're not talking lately

You hate the fact that every line in this song seems directly aimed at youYou. He clearly remember Charles telling you this one word for word. It happened a couple of weeks after your breakup, after you'd moved out of Charles' London flat and had taken all of your things, even the ones you'd always left behind during your previous crises. You never really believed that this time was going to be the real one, that all of the years you'd spent around Charles were on the verge of becoming memories and nothing more. You couldn't even remember the reason you had started fighting. All you knew was that words couldn’t be unsaid and that you couldn’t look at Charles without remembering all the things that had been yelled that infamous night. So you had packed your bags in the middle of the night and had left.

Charles hadn’t called. For about a week, all you could do was look at your phone every ten minutes, hoping for a message, a missed call notification (though it would’ve been merely impossible for you to miss that call), something that would prove you that Charles cared about your relationship. You had walked away so that Charles would realise that he couldn't keep on treating you like you were granted and you had ended up losing it all.

Weeks had gone by without a word from the man you now called your ex. And then weeks had turned into months. Tabloids had sparked dating rumours of Charles and some amazingly pretty girls and it looked like the 'Y/N' chapter had quickly been forgotten. You had felt like an idiot until you'd received the long awaited message.

‘hey y/n, i hope you’re doing good. we’re not talking lately but i just needed you to know that i miss you’

Your heart had stopped beating. Or had it started beating faster ? You had felt like your insides were burning and your mind stopped functioning. It’d been so long since Charles had gone out of the picture that you weren’t even waiting for a sign anymore. You'd started moving on, helped by some of your friends who, tired of hearing complaints about the way things should’ve been, had decided that you had to create a Tinder profile. You'd been on dates, you'd met men that were willing to fill you heart with pure joy and some who were just willing to fill you. But you'd taken what you wanted from both categories and you'd stopped aching with the simple sight of Charles' name on a billboard.

But this message, it wasn’t supposed to ever be sent, it was too late now. It disrupted every plan you'd made to deal with the loss of the one you'd thought would be the love of his life. So you did what you believed was the best to do for your heart. You never answered.

I confess I can tell that you are at your best I'm selfish so I'm hating it You hated it but you still knew every single part of Charles by heart. You'd learned over the years how to decipher every single one of his expressions, even the ones Charles thought nobody would notice. You knew what a half-smile meant, what the subtle frown hid and what the quick eyes puckering could be translated as. And this particular knowledge of Charles' feelings also meant that you totally knew that he was lying when he was claiming to be really happy for you. Charles hated it, he wanted to disappear, to go back in time and never let you leave because he’d never been as happy as you'd made him ever since. You knew that, you could read in the discrete clenching of his jaw.

You weren’t supposed to meet, not more than two years after your last interaction. Charles' message had been left unanswered and he’d never sent another. But awards season was always the theatre of a lot of unwanted encounters.

Charles was as beautiful as ever in his white turtleneck and black pants. His eyes sparkled when they met yours and there was nothing you could’ve done to avoid the conversation.

“You look quite good, Y/N.” You shivered, you hated the way your entire body still reacted to the simple sound of Charles' voice. “How’ve you been ?”

“I- erm…” You hated yourself for having to clear your throat, “I’ve been alright, thanks for asking. I didn’t know you’d be here tonight. I thought you were on tour.”

Charles smiled when you admitted knowing his schedule. “Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to come but then they sent the guest list and I don’t know, I guess I figured I’d stop by.” He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was openly flirting with you.

You hated the way you'd missed out on most of the ceremonies because you did not feel ready to face Charles. You'd been right. The sight of Charles' ringed fingers, his grown hair, the sparkle in his eyes, the smelling of his very own scent that hadn’t changed a bit ; it all made you weak. You just knew by the look on Charles' face that you were sharing the same thought : how could you have let go of what you had ?

"Well I’m glad you’re here.” You weren’t, but you hoped you weren’t as easy to decipher as Charles was so that you could keep the act on long enough to be convincing. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to win every single one of these things. You always do.” This last part was genuine : Charles was one of the most talented people you knew and even though you had no idea what his new album sounded like, you were pretty confident it was good.

“Oh thanks, Y/N. I’d be surprised if your movie didn’t win anything tonight. How ‘bout we go out after that, huh ? I mean, if I get to win something and to see you, this night might become the best I’ve had in a while.” His green eyes were reflecting a malicious light that almost made him look mischievous. You felt a knot forming in your stomach. You knew it was physically impossible to refuse Charles' offer but also knew how bad of a choice it would be. You were stuck weighing pros and cons in your mind, well aware that your silence was getting a bit too long. You hated the way Charles' presence made it almost impossible for you to think straight.

Your phone rang in you pocket, a sort of a way out you clung to. “Hi, baby, where are you ?” On the other end of the line, Daniel, your new boyfriend – was it really a boyfriend if the only thing you shared was an appreciation for each other’s body and a fear of being entirely alone ? – answered but you didn’t listen to anything he was saying. Instead, you focused on Charles' visible frown and the tears that he was fighting back. He mouthed something that looked like “I’ll see you”, though you both knew it wasn’t true and left without ever looking back. It took you a couple of seconds to process what had just happened before you were able to concentrate on what you were being told.

What Charles never let you know – perhaps because he hated how uncontrollable his feelings for you were – was how big of a mess your encounter had turned him into. He then fully understood that he’d lost you, that it was over, your love had supposedly died when he still believed he would be able to bring it back to life. He hated himself for being selfish, for hating it when you looked so well, for being the one unable to get over it. His wound was still bleeding when yours seemed to have already healed, at least from what he’d seen. And it was at that moment, as he was curled up on his bed, wondering if he was a bad person for hating the way you could be happy without him, that Charles started writing Cherry.

[...]

You hate the way your eyes will look reddish and puffy for the rest of the flight as much as you hate the tears that are running down your cheeks. You secretly hope your neighbour won’t notice your unease and replay Cherry. You already know you've missed out on some lyrics and you don’t want to. You want to hear every single one of Charles' words, the ones that seemed to have been written only for you to hear.

And suddenly, you hate the fact that other people have been able to hear this song (even more so that they did it before you). It feels like such an invasion of Charles' intimacy, of what he has shared with you. Everything sounds so obvious – from the lyrics to the title, reminding you of how you'd learnt a French endearment and always used it to call Charles : chéri, chéri, chéri – it’s an open window on your relationship and the way its ending was handled, the effect you had on Charles.

But then, now that you think about it, you also come to the realisation that, except for those of your friends that know and the few people in Charles' life that are aware of the two-year-long relationship you had, no one knows that you and Charles even kept in touch once the promotion of your movie ended. It’s not an absurd logic : you don’t think Charles has ever seen any of the other actors in years. And this, the fact that for the majority of people, what you had never existed, brings more tears to your eyes. Nothing in the song gives off any hint on who it is written to for people who’re not close to Charles. You somewhat feel deceived. As much as you hate the feeling of losing some privacy, you hate the fact that you can’t really brag about this song being about you. It is a beautiful song, you have the right to feel quite proud of inspiring it.

It must be the fourth time Cherry replays when you catch on some line and realize that, intentionally or not, Charles has left a hint as to who’s the song about. It is not really obvious but you know how fans are eager to decipher any small details.

I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress

You had hated this interview. Six months had eventually gone by after Charles' last attempt of talking to you when Alex and Lily had shown you the extract. You were in their apartment, sharing a bottle of wine and a pack of cigarettes, having just learnt that Alex had gotten the role in the movie he’d auditioned for.

“I never thought he was hurting as much as you did before I saw this” he had said, lighting another cylinder. His living room was already full of smoke. “but I swear, I might not be the closest to Charles, but I’d never seen him look so sad, Y/N” he had added as he was searching the video.

It was one of Yuki Tsunoda’s restaurant interviews. Charles looked as good as ever and you had hated the way you'd had to repress a smile from appearing on your face. Something looked different but you couldn’t point out what it was. In the restaurant, Yuki asked Charles about his fashion style evolution. You couldn’t figure out why Alex wanted you to watch this.

“I don’t really think I tell myself : oh yeah, this is the kind of style that I’m going to go for. I truly believe that my outfits are a way of expressing the way I feel and also that the people who surround me have a great influence on the way I dress. I mean, you asking that is funny because right this morning I looked at myself in the mirror and I started thinking of the way, you know,” and suddenly, in a matter of moments, Charles' eyes had started shining from tears that threatened rolling down his cheeks. His voice sounded hoarse and full of sobs, “there’s quite literally a piece of the person I love in how I dress. I still have some clothes that I used to steal from our closet and that I forgot to give back. Like this,” Charles pointed at his sweater, “this one’s Y/N's but I love it”.

The name had slipped out of his mouth but neither he, nor Yuki, seemed to have noticed, too focused on his emotions (Charles had to actually wipe a tear) to care. But you had noticed and so had others. So had Alex and Lily.

But this wasn’t what had retained most of your attention. There was no point in lying but you had hated the way you'd loved hearing Charles refer to you as the person he loved.

I just miss your accent and your friends

It happened once. Between their infamous encounter which had led to Charles starting to write Cherry and the day he finished the song, you and Charles had only talked once. 

You had broken up more than two years ago and yet, you couldn’t say that you were over Charles. It would’ve been safer to just say that you'd just learned to live without him. But you'd gotten pretty good at it. It struck you sometimes at night and you would find yourself crying in your pillow. But then, you were able to go on for days and weeks without thinking about Charles. Things still reminded you of what you had shared but it did not make you automatically cry anymore. It was pretty much like learning how to live with a missing limb. You can live without it, sometimes you can even forget that it’s not there, but somehow it always feels like something should be here and isn’t. 

That’s what you tried to explain to Alex as you were heading for the bar in which Carlos and Pierre were waiting for you. All of you had met while filming the movie Carlos directed. Alex, Pierre and you starred in it as well as Charles who also created the soundtrack. You all got awards for it. 

“You guys are so late it should be illegal.” Pierre said as he tried to look annoyed. His face almost immediately broke into a smile. “I’m glad to see you.”

You laughed as you sat down next to him, a pint of beer already waiting on the table. “We all know it’s because of Alex.”

"Shut it, Y/L/N."

“Well, at least, you’re not as late as Charles. He’s the worst.”

Your eyes went wide hearing Charles. Except for Alex, none of the boys knew how hard it was for you to get through this breakup. They all believed you when you swore to be over him. You couldn’t blame them for inviting him, you just had to play pretend. “Oh, erm… I didn’t know he was coming tonight, I-I thought he was still in Monaco.”

It was Pierre who had told you that Charles was now splitting his time between the two cities and you had felt a sort of relief mixed with this silly feeling of regretting the way things had become. 

“Oh no, he’s not. Speaking of the devil !”

You didn’t even have to raise your eyes to feel Charles' gaze planted on you. Yet you did and for a minute, as your eyes crossed, it felt like there was no one else but the two of you in the entire pub. He was still as beautiful as ever, just like you remembered him to be, but something had changed. Charles was no longer the young man you'd known, he’d grown into a real man and was now entering his golden age. It saddened you to realise that you were both evolving without the other one to witness the changes but it quickly faded away as you felt your stomach twisting with desire. 

“God, I missed you guys !” Charles almost cried after breaking eye contact with you, something that seemed to have cost him an effort.

You internally thanked your friends for being so chatty. The night had been going on for a while now without requiring too much effort from you. You mostly drank, comfortably seated in the settee and squeezed between Pierre and Carlos. You also tried to discreetly check Charles out, though you weren’t really sure your glances had gone unnoticed. You couldn’t resist it. It felt so weird to see him, just a couple of metres away from you. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you’d be here.” God, you hated unisex bathrooms. His green eyes met yours through the mirror. His cheeks were a bit reddish and you couldn’t say if it was because you were here or it simply resulted from the heat of the pub.

“You mean, here as in the toilettes, sorry, in the bathroom or here in the pub ?” You knew he was tipsy from the casualness of his voice. Charles squinted as your gaze took an inquisitive look. “Are you mad at me ? For coming ?”

“I”m not.” A sigh escaped your mouth. The water was still running from the tap. “What are you doing here, Charles ?” 

“I don’t know.” You were now side by side.

“I had forgotten about this you know, the way you squeeze French words in the middle of sentences. It's funny, I guess I just miss your accent and that, being there with our friends.” You could imagine the heat of Charles' skin and the way his lips would feel if he kissed you just right here. You shook you head ; Charles wasn't the only one affected by alcohol but you weren’t just tipsy, you were completely drunk. 

“Oh, really.” He was trying not to sound unsettled, you knew it. “Is that your way of saying that you just miss me ?”

You chuckled and his green eyes sparkled. “You get to choose, Charlie. Is that your way of telling me you’re missing me too ?”

You hated the way you had missed the taste of Charles' lips and how his hands clung to you body when you kissed. The water was still running from the tap. 

[...]

“Did you like it ?” Charles is literally glowing under the Monégasque sun. His skin is a little tanned and you love how weak in the knees it makes you feel. You're in his garden, drinking beers and smoking. The sky is so blue it seems endless. You love the way it feels like summer. 

“What are you talking about ?” Charles' hand strokes you bare arm gently as you're laying on the grass. You're so relaxed you're not even thinking about the hours you spent crying on the plane. Your eyes are still reddish and puffy, though. 

“Cherry. Did you like it ? I mean, you obviously cried but I hope it is because you regret boycotting me during all these years.” 

“I hated it.” You answer, eyes closed. You can feel Charles' body shifting. He’s now looking at you from upon you guess since you feel his breath crashing on your face. “As much as I hate you.” You add, smiling. 

This time, it’s Charles who kisses you. You love how there’s nothing to hate.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Chapter 10 - Please read chapter 1 first!

Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

Graduation day is filled with cheers and tears from the rest of your classmates.

Students and parents mingling and celebrating together. Cliques and groups hugging and bidding goodbye to each other and hello to the next stage of their lives.

Impossibly lonely even in the sea of bodies and your forced cheer making you surlier as the hours crawl by, you leave your parents and friends to their own devices. Reject invites to parties and final hurrahs with a strained smile. 

Up on the rooftop, you sit in solitude as the sun sets.

(It’s a shame that you’ve gotten so close to Goo, because he has left a mark everywhere. All the places you frequent are filled with memories of him. You can’t escape.)

You watch the final group of stragglers leave school. Swaying and singing happily. Drunk on happiness or something stronger you don’t know and don’t care.

Maybe you should be feeling more about never seeing some of these people again, and yes, you’re thankful for your friends rallying around you in the last couple months yet your heart hangs heavy.

You think about what university will bring. New experiences, new friends, new love. It should be exciting but-

Your emotional battery is depleted. 

Continues to deplete every day as you look for a tall frame and blonde hair and a smile that only reaches their eyes when they look at you. 

A voice that cuts through the rest of the humdrum, loud and crass and a touch manic. 

Words you know you should never trust, that worms its way into your heart anyway. 

And a nickname, just for you-

‘Princess.’

It’s been months though you can hear him as clear as day.

“Princess?” A voice calls out again. Have you missed him so much you start hearing things? Are you so delirious with your sadness, about being ghosted that your mind has conjured up a perfect echo?

The bleached hair, sharp eyes behind glasses and sardonic smile moves into your line of vision.

As if he hasn’t disappeared for months, as if he just said be right back and gone away for 10 minutes. He gives you a little wave. Casual as anything. Waggling his fingers like you’re supposed to find it cute.

“Goo Kim?”

“That’s me!” he says, approaching you with a spring in his step.

You know this could never be a figment of your imagination. You could never imagine this full complexity of Goo Kim; anything your brain dreams of is just a pale imitation of the real thing. You can never fully capture the confident strut, the way his lips lifts and reveals a faint dimple, the long elegant fingers adjusting his glasses, the way the breeze catches his hair. 

You’ve thought about him so much that now seeing him with all his layers, all his charms, completely dazzles and blinds you.

Discomfort overwhelms Goo the closer he gets, finds the front harder to put up.

He’s missed you. 

Had hoped that absence didn’t make the heart grow fonder and much preferring out of sight, out of mind. 

It’s a loss he had allowed to rest and soak into his bones, thinking that that was the way to deal with these frivolous sentiments. Tried to lick his wounds and patch it up with money. Thought he had gotten used to it; could happily live with it as long as he achieved the lifestyle to match his ambition.

Goo didn’t realise exactly how much he missed you, how much his soul aches at not seeing you, hearing you, touching you until you’re standing right there.

He doesn’t know what to do with all this.

Goo stops within arms reach and you both stare. Taking each other in. A classic smirk painted on his face and disbelief on yours. 

How had you become so entangled? You were supposed to be like oil and water.

“Bastard,” is all you manage as tears spring to your eyes and nostrils burn. You avert your gaze, dropping it to the floor, ashamed at your outburst. 

That he is the same as ever, unruffled and nonchalant, and you are vulnerable and weak.

You try to quiet your sniffles by biting your lip, try to not bring your hand to your face to wipe your tears. That would make it obvious.

(Like it isn’t already.)

If you stand there and don’t make a move, don’t make a sound, then you can fade into the background, becoming invisible and Goo wouldn’t know the effect he has had on you.

A firm hand gives you an awkward pat on the head, and then with a gentleness that makes your heart hurt, pulls your body against his and into his arms.

“Who’s making you cry?” Goo makes a strained effort to inject levity and amusement into his tone to hide his own emotions “Tell me and I’ll beat them up.”

Even so, his voice cracks at the last word. 

Like a rupture of a dam, your arms come up around his neck and you let your tears flow.

“Ugh! Do you know how expensive this coat is?!” His actions don't match up to his words, just holding you tighter to him.

An unsuspecting wet laugh bubbles up and out. This is the least of what he deserves. You hope it stains and never washes out.

You wipe your eyes and rub your nose on his clothing with no remorse. 

And you know, being here in his arms, that it feels like you’re letting Goo off easy.

You have so much rage and so much mistrust that you don’t know where to start. You have so many questions and you want to demand so many answers. 

Yet him appearing in the here and now doesn’t feel like a coincidence. You can hear the clock ticking, counting down the borrowed time together.

As you rest your head on his shoulder, smelling the expensive cologne but with the undertone that is distinctly Goo, you wonder what to ask first, to say first.

You rummage through your mind, picking through your grief and heartache, searching how you can put into words the explanations you need right here right now so you don’t have to live with regret and what-ifs forever.

The buzzing in your brain quiets then disappears, and you think you’re ready.

There’s a lot you know about Goo Kim. You don’t need him to recount his feelings for you. His actions and behaviour during your brief time together make it clear.

Instead-

A bitter question that you need to resolve.

To know if you should treat this as closure and move on. Or if there is any hope.

“Is this goodbye?” 

You’re not sure if Goo can hear you, your voice thick with tears and muffled against his neck, but his body stills and you feel it.

He hums, deliberating over your words. The subtle and intimate vibrations of his throat reverberates through you too.

Goo doesn’t know.

Really. This is messy enough as it is and will only get messier. Probably too messy, too dangerous and resulting only in more heartache. For you, for him, for both.

You’ll be a weakness, a fatal soft spot that he has no use for. A flaw with bright flashing arrow heads for enemies to target.

But the need to see you today, a final farewell on your graduation overrode everything else.

(Gun only gave him a knowing glance when he announced he was taking a personal day in a tone that left no room for argument)

This visit was supposed to close a very bizarre chapter in his life. 

Post-juvie and pre-HNH.

A stop gap, a temporary distraction.

Just a last little bit of novel normalcy before Goo’s life is upturned forever. Onto much better and much bigger things.

Yet.

Here you are.

Entering in his life when he needed you the least but wanted you the most.

You.

Resembling more and more like lightning in a bottle. A once in a lifetime opportunity. Too good to pass up.  

And here Goo is.

He can’t give you up. Only a fool would do so without seeing how it plays out.

Goo doesn’t know why he’s still thinking about it.

The fact he is here at all is answer enough.

Releasing a breath, he tells you “No.” 

“No?”

“This isn’t goodbye.”

“Oh.”

You let his word, that single syllable sit with you.

Settle into your body. Grow familiar with what it means.

No.

You’re not sure if the no is for right now or for forever. You think this is good enough. You think you can live with any future heartache if you can spend more time with Goo now. 

Live in the present and all that.

“Princess?” At his questioning tone, you turn to look at him.

Goo takes in your pink nose, the tear tracks running down your cheeks, your red eyes; he sees everything he has felt for you reflected in your face.

You study his features, refamiliarising yourself. You always knew Goo Kim was handsome, but now he seems ethereal. Wearing an expression you haven’t seen before, a look in his eyes that seems wilder than ever and a face that is absolutely enamoured. 

Goo brings his hand up to wipe away the last of your tears, running it along your jaw then thumb brushing over your cheek.

“I’ve wondered about this for so long,” he murmurs, leaning close, pressing your body fully along his. Until he didn’t know where his ended and yours began.

Closer and closer he inches, until you're everything he sees, until he can only feel your breath mingling with his, until there is no space left between your lips and his.

He kisses, at first gentle and cautious, before finally pouring in all of himself.

He kisses in a way that is purely Goo Kim, a little feral, a little teasing and a lot fun.

When you both finally break apart, it clicks into place.

This is everything Goo has been searching for.

[tr0p1cal]

cats got your tongue smau

eleven - always get what I want🖍️

word count: 1.2k+

➤ finding a cat in the alley beside the Star was not how you expected to end the worst day of your life, but maybe it’s just what you need to bring a little light back in on a gloomy day.

general warnings: sexual themes and language, cussing, mentions and consumption of alcohol, mentions of cheating and toxic relationships, kys/kms jokes

series master

master | prev | next

Parties were never your favorite thing. The loud music, sweaty dance floors, couples making out everywhere, drunk people doing stupid things left and right. Not your thing. While you could find ways to enjoy yourself, the whole college party atmosphere just wasn’t something you found to be fun. You preferred to find a quiet corner or be outside with the fresh air.

When you agreed to go to the party, you knew your friends would eventually ditch you to enjoy the actual party life, but it happened a lot faster than usual this time around. You couldn’t be mad at them for it, but it did make you wonder why you even agreed in the first place.

The kitchen was one of you favorite places to hang out in during parties. It was usually on the quieter side and people didn’t stay long, usually only there to grab a new drink. While some small groups might linger for a quick conversation, it wasn’t typically a hot spot for people to stay.

You weren’t the most outgoing person, but you were known for your warm personality that everyone seemed to love. Everyone knew you, but not personally. Outside of Jeongin and Seungmin, you didn’t have any genuine friends until Minho bulldozed his way into your life. Yeah, someone from a class might stop by and strike up a conversation, but nothing more than meaningless small talk or gossip.

A sigh escaped passed your lips as you grabbed a can of beer from a cooler on the kitchen counter. “Can’t believe they dragged me here just to ditch me,” you said quietly to yourself.

“Oh yeah, I know how that goes,” an unfamiliar voice startled you as you realized their presence next to you. A tall guy with adorable little dimples shined you a soft smile.

“Your friends ditched you too, huh?” You asked, returning a smile back to him.

He nodded and chuckled, presumably at the thought of the mentioned friends. “Always do.” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “They party too hard for my liking, but still insist on dragging me along. I’d honestly rather be back home watching tv, but then they wouldn’t have someone to make sure they don’t die and get home safely.”

You laughed at the last comment, understanding where he’s coming from. “Thankfully only one of my friends is a big partier, but the other one is the reason behind all the dumb decisions. He wants to see the world burn, I swear.”

He laughed too. “Seems like we both have our fair share of headaches when it comes to our friends then.”

“Seems like it,” you agreed as you sipped your drink. “I’m Rain, by the way.”

He smiled, showing off his dimples once again. You couldn’t help but want to poke them. “Very nice to meet you, Rain. I’m Soobin.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around campus, what’s your major?” You asked curiously.

Before he got the chance to answer, a group of people came in, one going straight for Soobin.

“Yo bro, long time no see. How has everyone been? Is Yeonjun around?” You recognized him and knew you had to get out of there. Wooyoung, one of Mingi’s close friends, quickly took over the conversation with Soobin, leading him out of the kitchen.

You didn’t even have a chance to think before an arm was tossed over your shoulders. The familiar sensation throwing you back to all the times you longed for such a show of affection from the man you now despised. The only thing you could think about was a way to escape, but as you tried to pull away, his grip only tightened.

“Aww, come on, don’t be like that. I’ve missed you, pretty.” The use of your old nickname made you feel gross. Mingi had always been good with his words and knew just what to say to drag you back to him, but you finally escaped his charms. You didn’t see him with rose colored glasses anymore.

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed. “I have no obligation to stay and talk to you. Let go.” You glared at him and all he did was laugh.

“You really think anyone else would want something as damaged and worthless as you?” He held your arm tightly and moved to make you look at him. “You think Minho really cares about you?” He asked with a raised brow.

You knew he was just trying to rile you up. You knew he didn’t have any real insight into your life anymore. You knew, but his words still somehow effected you. Did you even care if Minho cared about you? The thought of him not being around you made your stomach feel weird. The thought of him not wanting you around terrified you in a way you never felt before. What did that feeling mean?

“You really think he likes you?” Mingi kept nagging in your ear as a million thoughts raced through your head.

“Get the fuck off of me, Mingi,” you almost yelled, trying your best to escape his grasp.

“I don’t think so.” He clicked his tongue as he smoothed down your messy hair. “You see, I actually need you to help me out with something.”

“Why do you think I’d want to do anything to help you?” The rage you felt was slowly taking over.

“Don’t you remember who my parents are, pretty?” The mention of his parents made you freeze.

“Oh, so you’re threatening me now?” You looked at him with disgust. You knew all too well what his parents and their people were capable of.

“You know I always get what I want,” he said with a grin, gently tapping your cheek. “Let’s just say if you don’t help me out, I can’t guarantee your friends’ safety.” He pointed through a doorway leading out to the living room. Following the gesture, you see Jeongin surrounded by some of Mingi’s friends.

You knew Mingi was crazy, but never imagined he’d go to these lengths. He knew he had all the control over you as long as you thought he would hurt your loved ones. He knew all too well just how much your friends meant to you.

“What’s it going to be, pretty?” Grabbing your chin to force your attention back to him, he already knew your answer.

“Do whatever you want with me, but don’t you fucking dare lay a finger on any of them.” You glared at him with all the energy you had left.

“Unblock me and I’ll give you all the details.” He winked, finally releasing you from his hold.

He disappeared along with all of his friends. You were mad. Madder than you’d been even after finding him sleeping with your old roommate. He helped you escape that world, but now he’s dragging you back in like it was all just some sick joke. You needed to get away from that party before you lost the remaining strings of composure loosely holding you together.

a/n: sorry not sorry for what’s happening in the story, but I am sorry for the random break! It really wasn’t intentional, I was just struggling a bit mental health wise and couldn’t bring myself to work on it🤡 hopefully should be back to the regular schedule tho!

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