#the rest of the song is the ‘soft’ guitar

[aura-likes-all-the-things]

Idk if anyone else has noticed this

ITHACA SAGA SPOILERS!!!

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

In Would You Fall In Love With Me Again, when Odysseus gets angry at what Penelope told him to do (get rid of the marriage bed that is fucking built into a tree) THE ELECTRIC GUITAR STARTS PLAYING! The one used when Odysseus is being RUTHLESS!! But he stops immediately when Penelope says he’s HER HUSBAND! GUYS THIS IS SO-

[wholoveseggs]

ship for the lovely @perseephoneee !!

Of course I will ship you with the (only slightly) less handsome Mikaelson brother ~~ I joke I joke... Sorta. Kol loves chaos, but he’s also an artist at heart, passionate and creative. And that sounds like a perfect match for you! You are a musical artist as well as a writer and an all-around cool person, the kind of girl Kol would chase after!

~A Christmas Eve with Kol

(& the rest of the Mikaelson family)

It starts like every Mikaelson gathering—a bit of revelry, a lot of wine, and Klaus yelling about how he met the "real" Santa (K)Claus and he was a "stupid bloody git," who was "no damn better than the rest of us," etc, etc. (The man can create beef with anyone, anytime, for any reason.)

You are trying your best to nod along and be empathetic, but you’re scanning the room, silently begging for another Mikaelson to rescue you from the awkwardness. Rebekah is in the kitchen, meticulously decorating cookies; Elijah is helping Hayley and Hope wrap gifts; and Kol… Well, Kol is nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, yelling erupts from the kitchen. Kol decided it would be hilarious to replace one of Rebekah’s cookies with a small plastic spider. Needless to say, it didn’t go over well.

Now, you’re both in the corner, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. Kol, of course, is trying to convince you to sneak upstairs with him so he can show you the gift he got you. You’re adamant about staying downstairs to finish your drink, but he turns those puppy dog eyes on you, lips pouting in a way that makes it absolutely impossible to say no. “Fine,” you huff, feigning annoyance as you follow him upstairs.

In his room, he tells you to sit on the bed. You watch as he grabs something out of his closet, hiding it behind his back with a sheepish grin. You roll your eyes. “Kol, we’re not kids. What are you hiding?”

He reveals a beautiful, hand-crafted guitar, its polished wood gleaming in the low light. Your mouth drops open. It’s stunning.

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice suddenly quieter, almost uncertain. “Kol, it’s… perfect,” you manage, your voice soft. “Not as perfect as you,” he teases, taking your hand and leading you to the attic stairs before you can even protest. “Come on, love. There’s more.”

He leads you up to the roof, where the world is blanketed in snow and lit by a thousand tiny lights strung around the compound. From his coat pocket (Kol always comes prepared), he pulls out a small speaker and plays your favorite Christmas song. “Care to dance?” he asks, extending his hand with a dramatic flourish.

You laugh but take it anyway. The two of you sway together under the stars, the rest of the world fading away. Kol’s hands are warm despite the cold, and his gaze? Intense, like you’re the only thing that matters. He twirls you around, laughing when your breath catches.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you—the music, the snow, the lights, and the warmth of his body against yours.

Then, he leans in, brushing a snowflake from your hair before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is soft and sweet, everything you imagined it would be.

Later, when you’re back inside, Kol (true to form) pretends the dance never happened. He smirks at you from across the room as if to say, That’s our little secret.

Of course, you’ll never forget it. Every time you hear that song, every time snowflakes start to fall, you’ll think of Kol Mikaelson and the way he made the world stop for you.

Playlist ♬ (idk these songs just remind me of Kol)

These Fangs - Say Hi Doors Unlocked and Open - Death Cab Lovebomb - Yeah Yeah Yeahs Fog - Wintersleep

[jjunieworld]

CEILINGS ˒˒ 최연준͏ ▸  𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾: 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀

you’re both from two seperate worlds, but in the four corners of your bedroom the two of you can be together. even if your latest confession means it could be for the last time.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi yeonjun x fem!reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, secret friends with benefits to ???, secret relationship, punk!yeonjun, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, punk x nerd trope, some bad boy x good girl trope

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ unprotected sex, soft dom!yeonjun, kinda service top!yeonjun, pussy drunk!yeonjun, clit stimulation, slight overstimulation, heavy praise kink, marking, slight bulge kink?, petnames (baby, sweetheart, good girl, babygirl), creampie, riding, cowgirl, depictions of heartbreak, a lot of desperation lmao

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ happy birthday yeonjun my love!!! ♡ ♡ ♡ and happy early ggum release!!! this is inspired by the songs ceilings by lizzy mcalpine and in my room by julia wolf! haven’t wrote angsty smut in so long, i missed it hehe! wrote this while i was suffering from a migraine (> <。) the love and deepspace brainrot has been strong so if you see familiar dialogue… ʅ（‾◡◝���ʃ i hope you enjoy!! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

∿ [ 4k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

if you tried really hard you could imagine that the four corners of your room was something else—somewhere else. somewhere other than your room. like, perhaps, a nice restaurant where the lights are warm and you’re sitting in the cozy back corner. or maybe a park on a day where it’s not too hot and not too cold. that perfect temperature where you can wear lighter clothing if you wanted, but that also gave you the opportunity to ask a lover for their sweater.

tonight, as you stared up at your ceiling, you pictured that your room was a cute little picnic date. you pictured that you and yeonjun ate cute little sandwiches together as you both watched various strangers pass by. you pictured that you and his relationship was ultimately more than it was.

yeonjun: your window’s still open, right?

the buzzing of your phone at such a late hour didn’t surprise you as much as it did before. you didn’t even have to check the contact name as you responded and tossed your phone back onto your nightstand, the device clanging against your stacked textbooks from your study session earlier. a sigh pushed through you.

you had been so hopelessly in love with yeonjun since you first laid eyes on him on campus—nonchalant attitude paired with his alternative clothing and headphones resting against his head that seeped out the rock music he was always listening to as he strode across the pavement. when his eyes met yours that day for the briefest of moments, you had to get to know him somehow.

you: you know it always is.

unfortunately for you, your social circles didn’t overlap in the slightest. yours consisted of studious students who were the top of their classes and who made sure that their assignments got turned in early. nerds, others would say, or perhaps geeks.

yeonjun’s on the other hand—his consisted of various alternative people. some in bold black and white makeup and black, frilly victorian style dresses, while others in tight, dark clothing and hair in their eyes that sported dyed colored stripes. all of them clad in black eyeliner that darkened their already tired looking eyes and listening to the same rock music he did.

he was rebellious and liked to break the rules while you abided by them. the hammering of loud drums and guitars soothed him while it was something you absolutely couldn’t stand. he was vulgar and spoke the first thing that came to his mind while you constantly overthought the polite answer you would give. yeonjun was night while you were day.

the two of you couldn’t have been more different.

but still, that didn’t stop you from being drawn to him. and that fateful day where you happened to run into him and drop all of your textbooks changed your relationship forever. never did you think your wide eyes and bumbling apologies would lead to you under him as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as your shared moans bounced off the walls of your room.

never did you expect him to ask you to keep it all a secret because he didn’t want his friends to know he was fucking the resident nerd.

you hear the familiar creaking of your window as yeonjun begins to open it and reach for your glasses in the mess on your nightstand. the blurriness of your room comes into focus right as yeonjun pokes his head through the window, effectively killing the daydream you were in. he pushes his bright orange hair off of his forehead as he steps through, finger tangling in the light blonde streaks within it.

“hey, babe,” yeonjun said as he swung his other leg over the ledge of the window. his black boots crumpled one of the discarded papers on your floor but he didn’t seem to notice as he shut the window behind him, locking the cold air out.

yeonjun turned towards you, already stripping out of his faded flannel. “that math test is already a bust. i literally couldn’t understand any of that shit. i don’t even know how i made the class… shocked that the professor hasn’t said anything to me about it yet.”

his cheeks were flushed from the cold and his dark brown eyeliner was smudged around his eyes as he stared down at your lying form. you pushed up on your elbows as you watched him take off the band t-shirt he was wearing. you stared at his bare upper-body with wide eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted as he kept talking.

you hated the way your heart fluttered and raced, hated the effect he had on you. you hated the way he smirked at you like he knew he had you wrapped around his pretty little finger. it was embarrassing.

you gulped as his eyes remained on yours as he slowed his fingers down to unbuckle the belt he was wearing. “you seem distracted…” yeonjun said, his voice mixed with amusement and slight teasing, “don’t tell me it was that hard! if you can’t do it, then there’s no way in hell i’m gonna.”

he kicked off his boots and moved closer to where you were on the bed. your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you stuttered out a response, “y-yeonjun… it’s late and we both have classes tomorrow… what are you doing here?”

in one swift motion he climbed over you, trapping your body underneath his. the tips of his dyed hair tickled your cheeks and the cold metal of his belt buckle against your lower stomach made you shiver. his mouth was at the shell of your ear as his whispered, “you know why i’m here.”

yeonjun pressed kisses down the side of your neck and along your jaw, stopping just before he reached your mouth. “besides, i wanted to see you.”

his hands trailed up your sides and under the thin fabric of the tank top you were wearing. before you knew it, it was over your head and you bare breasts were exposed fully for him. “i wanted to see the pretty flustered faces you make when i’m inside of you.”

cold fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, tugging down slowly. “and the way you try and avoid my eyes but can’t help but stare. can’t help but let those pretty moans escape your mouth,” yeonjun continued as his lips brushed against yours. he pulled your shorts and panties down until you were completely naked under him.

“you’ve been avoiding me.”

he pulled away completely and stood from your bed, his words hanging in the air. his eyes never left yours as he tugged his black jeans down.

your chest rose and fell heavily as your eyes trailed down to the obvious bulge in his boxers, the dim light of your bedside lamp making it more apparent. you shook your head as your eyes met his gaze once more, “i haven’t.”

you have been avoiding him. not purposely, but you guessed that it was to the extent that he noticed. when he would walk in your direction on campus you would go a different way to your class. you’d force yourself to not let your eyes linger on his retreating frame and instead focused on what the task was at hand.

it shocked you that he noticed, since he usually ignored your existence outside of these four walls. “it just… wouldn’t work…” he had told you once as you stayed curled up against his naked body one night. “we’re like two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards.”

“you have,” yeonjun stated, pulling down his boxers so he too was completely naked, spare the small skull necklace you had gifted him a couple months back. his large cock hit against his lower stomach, the precum dripping from the slit glittering in the dim lighting.

he returned back to his hovering position over you, heavy cock brushing against you and causing your legs to tighten slightly around his waist as arousal pooled at the pit of your stomach. the small skull necklace dangled above your face as his head tilted to the side and plump lips formed a tiny pout. “why?” yeonjun asked, voice lowered.

the tips of his fingers grazed along your hips and left goosebumps in it’s wake as he waited for your answer. your breath hitched in response. “i-it’s—school’s just been hectic…” you trailed. “finals are coming up.”

yeonjun’s head dipped to the crook of your neck. he hummed against the skin, causing you to shiver again. he dragged his nose up your jawline until his lips brushed against yours once more. “liar,” he whispered and then lowered his lips onto yours fully.

he kissed you slowly, yet his lips pressed onto yours roughly. yeonjun’s hands inched up your sides and stopped just below your breasts. he then pulled away just before the two of you struggled for air.

your glasses fell down your nose bridge and he adjusted them for you. “i’ll just have to fuck the answer out of you,” he concluded, his voice louder. his other hand dipping between your legs to collect the slick that formed at your core.

yeonjun spread the slickness all through your folds and throbbing clit, making your back arch off the mattress slightly as a small moan pushed between your lips. “or you could just tell me the truth…” he spoke, thumb rubbing your clit and sending waves of pleasure up your body.

your eyes squeezed shut, “that is t-the truth.”

“come on, baby. you don’t even believe that,” yeonjun responded, incredulous. he hummed again and grabbed his cock with the hand that was circling your clit, rubbing the reddened tip up and down your arousal. he used his other hand to hold down the lower half of your body.

how could you tell him the truth? it was clear that he wasn’t looking for a relationship with you that wasn’t purely physical—and a secret at that. even now, his words rang through your head: “we’re like two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards.”

the two of you didn’t even fit together.

you couldn’t possibly say that you were hopelessly in love with him. that you daydreamed scenarios where the two of you were together, really together. scenarios where you held his hand in public and where he wasn’t afraid to kiss you in front of his friends and anyone else who may be watching.

it was a pipe dream, and you knew it. you knew he knew it, too. and yet…

yet, you wished that maybe your thoughts would be proven wrong. maybe he would smile and say that he loved you too, that he wanted to be with you too. publically.

breath hitching, you said in a low whine, “i’ve been stressed.”

it wasn’t technically a lie, but it was still far from the truth. you just really didn’t want to ruin what the two of you already had going on. it would absolutely crush you, and you already looked at yeonjun like he hung the stars in the sky himself.

your hips rolled up towards his on their own and you dug your head into the pillow underneath you. “i’ve been avoiding everyone, not just you,” you continued.

yeonjun hummed again and you could tell that he still didn’t believe you, but would drop it for the time being. “then i’ll make you feel better.” his lips were on yours again, rough and full of desperate need just as he pushed himself inside you fully.

you broke away from him suddenly, crying out in a loud moan that yeonjun then cut off with his lips. his hand still pressed down on you as he thrusted into you again. he brought his free hand up to cup your face gently, all while you moaned into his mouth.

his pretty lips sucked dark marks onto your neck, claiming you as his as they trailed down to your breasts. the obscene sounds the two of you made together bounced off the walls and you were lucky that you lived alone in this small apartment.

“fuck, you’re so wet. does my cock in you feel good, sweetheart?” yeonjun asked and all you could do was nod as he fucked into you deeper. he nodded along with you, “yeah? you want more? you’re still stressed?”

whimpers fell from your lips as he kissed the love bites he just left. “w-want… more. please,” you begged.

yeonjun chuckled, pretty smile lighting up his features. he then moved the two of you so you were now straddling him as he laid on your bed. your eyes widened in shock. usually he had you pinned under him as he fucked you. never have he let you ride him before.

“ride me, baby?” yeonjun asked. “take all of your stress out on me.”

you inhaled sharply as you looked down at him, looked down at his length laying on his lower abdomen and wet with your arousal. you shook your head. there was no way you were gonna be able to ride him—at least not on your own.

he must’ve sensed your hesitance because he cupped your face and rubbed his thumb along your cheek. “you can do it. you’ve taken all of me before. don’t worry, i’ll help you.” yeonjun’s voice was low with reassurance and you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

“okay,” you shakily muttered.

yeonjun nodded again with you, “let me help you feel better.” his hands found your waist and pulled you towards him as he kissed you, melting your worries.

he pulled away and looked down between the both of you as he sat up more. he guided your hips up and reached down to prop his cock up for you. “sit on it,” yeonjun said.

your hands found his biceps and grabbed onto them tightly as you aligned yourself. slowly, your pussy sunk down on him inch by inch, wrapping around his length and filling you up so much that you felt like you could feel him in your chest. yeonjun let out a guttural moan as he fell back against your headboard. “good…” he whimpered out, trying his hardest to steady his breathing. his hands on your waist moved down to your hips as they tightened.

“good girl, just like that. see? i told you you could do it. fuck—“ yeonjun suddenly thrusted up into you, eyes rolling back slightly. “fuck, baby you feel so good,” he breathed out through a moan, “god, you drive me crazy.”

the corners of your mouth rose as you watched his reaction. you never gotten this clear of a view of his face and you were enjoying every moment of it. experimentally, you rolled your hips forward and immediately let out a loud moan. yeonjun’s fingers dug into your hips hard, “s-shit, keep doing that. gonna make me cum if you keep moving those pretty hips like that.”

he moved your hips for you as he stared at you through hooded lids, mouth open as more moans passed his lips. you bet your expression mirrored his as you moved your hips more, brows furrowing as shock waves of pleasure shot up through you.

you placed your hands flat on his bare chest as your hips moved faster. your head flew back as yeonjun kneaded your bouncing tits, thumbs rubbing over your perked nipples. “keep going,” he whined through labored breaths, thrusting his hips up against yours as you moved.

“jjunie, i’m gonna—“ you could barely finish your words as he thrusted up towards you and the rope in your stomach completely snapped. you fell backwards onto your hands, giving him a full view of your shaking body, glistening in the dim lamp light with a layer of sweat.

you tried to catch your breath as best you could as pleasure rippled throughout you and made your limbs feel like jelly. you wanted to help him too, so in a weak motion you used your hands behind your back to roll your hips again, using the last bit of strength to raise your hips as well as you dropped them back down on his throbbing cock.

the sound the two of your bodies made was completely lewd. cum dripped from out of you and around his cock and down his thick length. yeonjun watched the whole thing and you swear you saw the last resolve in him break as his mind completely fogged over. “my fucking god,” he half moaned, half muttered as he sat up completely. in one swift movement his tight grip held your hips and he fucked into you so deep and unrelenting that you saw new galaxies.

all you had was the weakening strength of your arms behind you to keep you afloat, and the more he fucked you, the more it wavered. “you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” yeonjun sputtered between moans. “you and this pretty fucking pussy of yours, devouring my cock whole. all i can fucking think about these days.”

you barely heard anything yeonjun was saying with the ringing in your ears, you think that he barely heard himself, honestly. his mouth was stringing together incoherent words and praises between various curses as he fucked you deeper and deeper. your arms shook and so did your body not just from your rapidly numbing body, but also from the sheer force of his thrusts—so desperate and so sloppy as he chased his incoming release.

“t-too… m-much!” you cried, trying to catch his gaze through the tears forming in your eyes and your tits bouncing in your face. “can’t take a-anymore!”

yeonjun shushed you softly as his hands moved to your waist, his frenzied pace not stopping. he pressed you up against his chest and slammed his lips onto yours. “relax,” he whispered breathlessly between kisses as his body moved in sync with yours, “you can take it.”

he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, moans falling from his parted lips as he released inside of you and filled you up impossibly more. your head fell to the crook of yeonjun’s neck as the two of you caught your breath in comfortable silence. after a couple minutes, yeonjun broke it and breathed, “good job, babygirl.”

yeonjun moved you onto your back, still deep inside of you. he pulled out slowly, the base of his cock covered in a white ring of cum as more of it poured out of you and down the curve of your ass. he watched it all with eager, hungry eyes.

“fuck… look at that,” yeonjun mumbled under his breath. he dragged his thumb along your cum covered folds, pushing some of it back inside you just to watch it pour out of you again. you jerked as your breath hitched and you tried to close your legs but yeonjun used his thighs and free hand to keep them open. “so pretty, makes me want to pump your pussy full of more of my cum,” he continued, louder this time.

he leaned down to greet your lips in a slow kiss, hands touching any part of your body that he could access. the two of you stayed like that for a while as you came down from your sex high, lips locked together. your hands were in his dyed hair, pulling at the tips as you whimpered softly. your core throbbed and you were filled with need once again.

yeonjun smiled against your lips. you had to give it to him, he knew your body well. a low hum came from the back of his throat and he pulled away. “it’s late,” he muttered before kissing your lips again and pulling away fully.

he disappeared for a moment and came back with a warm, wet towel to clean the two of you up. after he turned to pull his boxers back on as you laid under the covers naked. you watched as he started to pull on his black jeans, your heart racing with every tug. all you could think about was how you didn’t want him to go. how you didn’t want to go back to practically being strangers again.

suddenly the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, your head too clouded to think properly about the consequences your words may have. “listen… i—“

“don’t tell me you’re in love with me,” yeonjun joked in a teasing voice as he buckled his belt. your mouth clamped shut and heavy silence filled the room as yeonjun put his shirt and flannel back on. he paused once you didn’t say anything, turning to look at you from your window.

he hesitated before sighing and reaching down to put his boots back on. you tried to not let the tears fill your eyes in front of him as thick tension filled the air, opting to tug the blanket tighter around your body. “let’s not ruin a good thing, okay?” yeonjun said, lowly, avoiding your eyes.

yeonjun opened your window and the cold night air hit you full force, causing goosebumps to form along the parts of your skin that were exposed. the moonlight made the skull necklace around his neck sparkle. “i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked as he turned to face you.

you hid your face from his view as you looked to the side just as the tear rolled down your cheek. you nodded, it was a solemn nod that you tried to mask. you moved your hand to fix your hair in a discreet way to wipe the tear away and looked at him with the biggest smile you could muster. it didn’t reach your eyes.

you could tell he didn’t buy it and that he wanted to say something about it, but you laid down before he could and focused your eyes on your ceiling. you heard his soft sigh and the window close after he stepped through it, effectively cutting off the cold air blowing into your room.

all at once it felt like the stars had come crashing down around you. no matter how hard you tried, it felt like you couldn’t get oxygen to your lungs and hot, blistering tears fell from your eyes. you heaved in breaths of air that did absolutely nothing.

sobs wracked your body that were so loud you were sure that yeonjun could hear them outside. they hit you like a tidal wave and the pressure of it all was making you drown. you clutched at your chest as you laid in a ball beneath the covers, gasping for air as you cried harder and harder.

how could you be so stupid? you knew the risk—knew that he didn’t feel that way about you and still you opened your big mouth. and for what? you wouldn’t be shocked if your relationship ended here. if you never saw yeonjun again and the two of you went back to being actual strangers, someone who you stared at from a distance.

you’d never see his face again. you’d never see his band tees and smudged eyeliner, never hear his loud rock music that gave you a headache, never feel his skin against yours—again. it was completely and utterly over, and it was all your fault. you felt sick to your stomach.

like a zombie, you rose from the grave that was your bed and numbly put your pajamas back on, feeling disgusted with yourself. you stripped your bed of the old sheets and covers and replaced them with new, clean ones. you shut off your bedside lamp as you fell apart in the darkness, more pained sobs forcing its way through your mouth.

you’d never see yeonjun again—not in the same dim light you once saw him in before.

∿ [ continue on to . . . part two , masterlist , taglist ] 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

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[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

My Darling

"Who even is that guy?"

"That's my darling"

----

It starts with a post.

Eddie had posted a photo on Instagram holding his acoustic guitar, cross legged on a chair.

Recently he had been front cover of a magazine of 'him' wrapped around a young woman. Living the Rockstar life.

His agent had suggested he show a more domestic side to him, a softer side.

Hence the acoustic.

It was summer so Steve was off of work and sleeping on the couch behind him, blankets up to his ears. The only thing visible was his hair peeking out and his arm hanging over the side of the couch. A sleeve of tattoos running down it all the way to his knuckles. Eddie loved that arm. He loved the way the tattoo curved around his knuckles like water. His nice, big. veiny hand that-

WOAH off topic.

He had done half the tattoos himself and made sure he payed for it all.It was the least he could do for all Steve has done for him.

They met eight and a half years ago, Steve had seen Eddie play at shitty clubs and recognized his mop of hair getting hit in the alleyway.

Eddie thought he was a goner for sure until Steve ripped the guy off him.

Steve just shot him a smile and complimented his guitar skills.

Eddie fell to his knees. He was gone for him.

He invited Steve to band practice as a thank you since he didn't have much to offer.

Two weeks later they were dating and Steve has been their number one fan since.

When Eddie got the record deal he dedicated everything to Steve.

Everything always was for him. As it should be.

Anyways,

Eddie posted the photo excited to promote the acoustic cover of his hit song 'My Hero, My Darling'.

The comments instantly went ballistic asking who the random man behind him was. He definitely wasn't in the band and why would notorious lady killer Eddie Munson have a man in his house...he couldn't possibly have friends.

Eddie responded to one comment only, knowing the rest would sort itself out.

"That's my darling ❤️"

----

"Eddie," Steve was frowning at him, poking his side with his foot.

"Eddie look at me this is serious."

"Yes my love?"

"You outed yourself. You were doing such a good job keeping this a secret. This will change everything."

Eddie turns over until his holding Steve close to him, his face in his hands.

"Good. I'm tired of hiding you my darling. I'm tired of the accusations."

"But Eddie you OUTED yourself."

"I won't say anything about you, I'd never out you Stevie. But I'm done hiding that I'm a simple man in love."

"...me too. I'm done too."

"Darling are you sure? This is a big deal. What about your school? Your principal?"

"I don't care. Everyone important to me knows. My family, my real family, know and don't care. They do wonder why I've been single for eight years but they'll get over it."

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me oh my god that's the hottest thing I've ever heard. I love you so much please I can't live another moment not having you mine. Besides, if you get fired that's definitely a lawsuit and you know I've been pleasing for you to quit so I can take care of you, but you love those damn kids. Just...be mine...please."

"I've been yours. Since the start. Since always." They both have tears in their eyes.

"Yes?"

"YES OF COURSE YES!"

They're giggling through their kisses.

---

"Heeeeyyy everyone thanks for joining my live. I have something super important to inform you on! I'm getting married!!!!!"

The comments instantly flood in questioning him on moving too fast, asking if he's on drugs. The usual.

"Oooooh you guys have no idea."

----

The photo goes up an hour after the live ends.

It's Steve sitting on the couch, glasses on, red pen in his mouth. He's wearing a thick sweater and grumbling grading papers.

He looks so soft, so smooth, it's Eddie's favorite picture. The next picture in the carousel is Steve backstage at his concert. They're holding onto each other like they need each other to breathe.

The last picture is a selfie taken minutes after. Eddie with his stage makeup sweating off his face smiling brightly at the camera. and Steve kissing his cheek. Eyes squinted shut and eyeliner thick, he had worn it as a treat for Eddie.

It was well received.

The caption reads:

"I'm so happy to announce I'm marrying my best friend and partner of eight years! Everyone meet my darling. Steve is a local middle school teacher who has literally saved my life more than once. He saved my heart. God, I love him so much.

P.s. yes the tours are in the summer so Stevie can travel with us. I'd never leave him."

---

Bonus engagement edition:

"YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED TO EDDIE MUNSON?!"

"Yes. We've been over this."

Eddie stuck out his hand to shake, "hi, Eddie Munson, nice to meet you."

"YOU HID THIS FOR EIGHT YEARS?!"

"Yes."

"I'M BASICALLY YOUR BROTHER! HE'S MY FAVORITE CELEBRITY!"

"Yes Dustin and you can't keep a secret."

"...fair...welcome to the family."

*inspired by my friend only learning her cousin was marrying someone famous when he showed up to Thanksgiving and she lost her mind

[jaysng]

post arguement — park jongseong

pairing: nonidol!boyfriend!jay x girlfriend!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 958

REBLOG if you enjoyed

it had been a tense twenty-four hours since the argument. you could still feel the heaviness of the unsaid words lingering in the air, the way jay’s eyes kept darting toward you, hoping for a sign that things were back to normal. but you weren’t quite ready to give him that satisfaction yet.

you weren’t ignoring him, not exactly. but there was a distance, a coldness that hadn’t been there before, and jay could feel it with every fiber of his being. he knew he had messed up—he was painfully aware of that—and he wanted to make it right. so, he decided to do the one thing that might soften you: cook your favorite meal.

he moved around the kitchen with purpose, gathering ingredients, chopping vegetables, and measuring spices. the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board was the only noise that filled the otherwise silent apartment. jay glanced over his shoulder, hoping you’d notice, but you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, pretending to be more interested in the screen than in him.

he sighed softly, turning his attention back to the food. “okay, let's see… a little bit of garlic, and then… what’s next?” he mumbled to himself, opening the fridge and pulling out the ingredients for your favorite dish.

“maybe some extra basil this time,” he said, as if he were consulting with someone. “she likes that, right?” 

he glanced at you again, but you didn’t look up, your focus still on your phone, though he could tell by the way your fingers hesitated that you were listening. jay smiled a little to himself, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to soften.

as the aroma of the food began to fill the apartment, you felt your resolve weakening. it was your favorite, after all, and jay knew exactly how you liked it—down to the last detail. you tried to stay focused on your phone, but your stomach had other ideas, grumbling softly in response to the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.

you finally couldn’t resist any longer. quietly, you slipped off the couch and made your way to the kitchen, your bare feet padding softly against the floor. jay heard you coming, but he didn’t turn around, pretending not to notice as you moved closer to the stove. you leaned over the pot, inhaling the rich, savory aroma, and before you knew it, your hand was reaching for a spoon to sneak a taste.

just as you brought the spoon to your lips, the soft strumming of a guitar filled the room, followed by the familiar voice of ed sheeran singing one of his sweetest love songs. you froze, the spoon halfway to your mouth, as jay finally turned to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

he crossed the small space between you in just a few steps, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. his chin rested gently on your shoulder, and you could feel the warmth of his body against your back. “caught you,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

you didn’t pull away, but you didn’t lean into him either, still holding onto the last bit of your stubbornness. jay swayed gently, moving you both in time with the music, his arms tightening around you just a little bit more.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured into your ear, his voice soft and sincere. “i know i messed up, and i hate that i hurt you. please forgive me?”

you stayed silent for a moment longer, letting the words sink in, feeling the way his heart beat steadily against your back. slowly, you turned in his arms, looking up at him with a mixture of emotions in your eyes.

“you always do this,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “say things you don’t mean and then try to fix it later.”

jay’s eyes were pleading, filled with guilt and a longing to make things right. “i know. i’m trying to be better. i just… i just want us to be okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll do whatever it takes.”

you didn’t say anything, but the way you rested your head against his chest, your arms wrapping around him in return, spoke volumes. jay let out a relieved sigh, holding you close as you swayed together to the music, the tension between you finally beginning to melt away.

the song played on, and for a little while, you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, letting the music and the moment say everything that words couldn’t. as the final notes faded away, jay pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness.

and in that moment, you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. not when he was looking at you like that, not when he had gone through all this trouble just to make you smile again.

“just… don’t let it happen again,” you said softly, the words not harsh but still carrying a weight.

jay nodded, his expression serious. “i promise.”

you leaned up, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, letting him know without words that you were ready to forgive, ready to move forward together.

“thank you,” jay whispered against your lips, his voice filled with gratitude and love. 

“just don’t burn the food,” you teased lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you rested your head against his chest once more, letting the warmth of his embrace and the sweet scent of your favorite meal fill the space between you, knowing that everything was going to be okay.

do not copy or repost my work — @/jaysng

[sweetteainthesummerx]

packing it up!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

series masterlist!

pairings: popstar!reader x quinn hughes

warnings: fluff, suggestive content, i also changed one word in the lyrics to fit the fic better

summary: summer at the lake house, and quinn realizes how completely in love with you he is.

song: packing it up by gracie abrams

word count: 2.1 k

notes: ideas from this ask!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

quinn glances at you from the rented car, your hair blowing angelically around your face. he thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, even as you grimace and unstick your locks from your lipgloss.

his hand is heavy and warm on your thigh, your much smaller hand tucked over it.

he's both nervous and excited: you're the first girl he's ever brought to the lake house, the only one he's ever loved like this.

when quinn and you finally pull up to the lake house, luke and jack run out to greet you guys.

they offer hugs and brotherly kisses on the cheek to you, jack's girlfriend following close behind, the two of you reuniting with a squeal, chattering about some reality tv show.

his parents are at the door, hugging their oldest and his mom pulls you into a tight embrace too. jim tucks you under his arm, wanting to show you his new grill.

ellen and jim, who along with the rest of his brothers, met you at the hughes bowl game. technically, his mom had met you over facetime a week after you'd made it official.

at first, he could tell that she'd been a little wary of your public status and insane amount of fame but after getting to know you and seeing how much you cared for her son, she'd accepted you into the family with open arms. his dad liked you from the beginning, because you made chocolate chip cookies and looked at quinn like he hung the moon.

that night is busy and full of chatter, months worth of catching up finally done. you head up to shower and bed first, and jim slaps quinn's back as he gets up from where he was playing video games with his brothers for a drink of water.

"she's good for you son. don't let her get away," he grins, and quinn laughs, shaking his head.

"i don't plan to, dad. don't worry."

nearly an hour later when he drags his heavy feet up to his room and opens his door, he sees you and is suddenly wide awake.

you're on his bed, wearing a set of pink cotton pajamas, the thin and sparse material almost as soft as your skin under the warm over head light. you glow, you're prescence temptingly familiar.

he leans on the frame of the door just to watch you in your element.

your pretty, smooth legs are crossed, propping up your guitar as you softly pick at the strings with quick-practiced fingers and hum under your breath.

the first ever time he'd listened to you sing he'd realized that you were probably a genius. he'd never really been into music all that much as a kid, but he vaguely remembered you on the television at his friend's house and seeing posters of you everywhere.

at such a young age, you'd been famous, making millions of dollars and working with huge brands; yet here you are, hair still a little damp and looking like one of his teenage wet-dreams.

oh, if only 16-year-old quinn hughes could see this. actually, he'd probably be yelling at himself to join you on the bed.

"hey, baby." he murmurs, and you look up, smiling with tired eyes.

you let him set your guitar carefully into it's case, and he offers you soft kisses that make you giggle and squirm before he goes to the bathroom to wash up.

you're under the covers when he returns, and he crowds into you, shoving his face into your neck and breathing the familiar smell you your skin and bodywash.

he pushes his head into your chin as you laugh, soft voice saying something about acting like a dog, but he doesn't care.

he wants to merge into one with you, as weird as it sounds. being close to you physically is almost not enough. he feels like he can't breathe and that you're fresh air all at the same time, affection for you clogging thick in his throat.

you rub his scalp and his temples and his bones melt, his weight flattening you to the mattress.

he knows he's too heavy, but he can't bear the thought of moving even an inch from you, so his hands finds the curve of your waist, lifting you easily so you're chest to chest, your body like a weighted blanket on him.

"goodnight, quinny," you press a kiss into the little space in between his clavicles, the little dip pale under the stream of moonlight through the crack of the curtains.

he returns the favour to your guitar-calloused fingertips, and the two of you breathe in tandem as sleep finds you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

the next afternoon, after a big breakfast and a lazy morning, all of you usher out to the boat, eager to catch any droplet of that good, good michigan sunshine. ellen sends you all off with a cooler of drinks and sandwiches.

after quinn sets down the cooler and the other boys are figuring out the logistics of the boat, he tucks his big hands under your armpits and lifts you onto the wobbling vessel easily.

you kiss his cheek in thanks, and once everyone is settled down, jack's girlfriend whips out a humongous bottle of sunscreen and begins to slather her boyfriend down.

quinn sighs as you fill your hands with the sun cream, and turns grudgingly, back muscles shifting under pale skin.

he hisses as the cold liquid, his fingers coming to smack at the side of your thigh playfully when you laugh.

he helps you apply it too; you push at his head when his hands wander and you flush a sunburnt pink.

through out the day, as jack, luke and quinn take turns driving and wakeboarding, you tanned with jack's girl, planting yourself on your boyfriend's lap whilst he drove and tucked yourself on the seat with your book.

as the sun was setting and the boys were still insisting on wakeboarding, the music from the speakers was blasting music (once in a while, one of your songs would come on, and the whole boat would cheer, much to your embarrassment) as you nestled into your seat between quinn's legs, your back pressed up to his bare chest.

it was chilly on the water, quinn's hoodie and body heat around you your only source of warmth.

luke complains about all of the pda as the four of you laugh at his whining, and quinn rubs your goosebump-littered thighs.

you sigh happily, utterly exhausted but so, so content.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

quinn watches from his seat on the couch as you and his mother, the two most important women in his life, laugh together while cooking dinner.

ellen tells you something, and you giggle, glancing at him. he realizes he's grinning unconciously.

honestly, his mom is probably roasting him or telling an embarrassing story, but he doesn't mind. it's oddly domestic seeing you with his family, and he's delighted how well you fit in.

later that night, as the you settle in for bed, he asks what you were talking about with his mom.

your eyes glitter with adoration as you cup his jaw. he leans into your touch, his own hand resting over yours.

"you," you tell him so earnestly, and his heart fills with so much love.

three words rest on his tongue, but you yawn sleepily, tucking yourself into his side.

he lays awake for a few moments, the words heavy like a treasure box full of gold, ready to burst at any moment.

he is so, so in love with you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

three months later, when the air in vancouver is bordering on brisk, and when he finds you wearing his sweaters more often than not, you sit him down after dinner, passing him your laptop.

"i have something for you," you tell him nervously. he doesn't like seeing you unsettled, so he sweeps his thumb over your cheek until you relax.

he presses play on the video, and an acoustic guitar starts playing.

your angelic voice joins in, and he automatically bites back a smile.

i hope that you get everything you could ask for the cold side of your pillow, a real break for once good peppermint tea with cool wind on the drive home with no traffic for miles, for spring to come

the video fades into what he thinks are snippets of your first few months together immortalized on your camcorder: him ordering your coffee, walking in stanley park in the early march, him tying your skates on your third date, him driving, relaxed with the windows down on the way to the lake house.

i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's just when you happened that's right when you happened got so damn close to packing it up but that's just when you happened and then you happened then you happened

it hits him at the chorus: this song is about him. you wrote a love song about him. he looks at you, and you're a little pink, still fidgeting. he hopes that his awe-struck expression is enough for now, because he has no words.

now i'm red in the face, and shy all of a sudden you move, i move, it's something, you fit perfectly and replace every game, you push none of my buttons and hold me through the morning, kinda new for me

the next clip streams seamlessly onto the screen. it's taken shakily through a screen door, the two of your figures swaying in a slow dance on the porch, the sun rising on the docks in the distance.

he relishes in how good the two of you look together, how right.

as the chorus plays, you tell him, "i think your mom took that,"

and he laughs voice broken with emotion, because of course his mom could tell how absolutely devoted he was to you.

i hope that you get my dark sense of humor sunsets in the summer with your family don't stop talking to me, maybe stay here forever we could die here together, I'd do it happily

around the campfire, the grainy-filtered camera pans to each member of his family, everyone laughing and chattering as they roasted marshmallows. the sun was a pretty orange against the purple-pink backdrop of the sky.

i'll hold you, i'll know you i'll never leave out the back door and i'd love to complete you hope you get all you could ask for

he watches with teary eyes a video of the two of you on the boat, in your own world. you're wrapped up in his hoodie and his arms as he rests his cheek on your head. he says something to you, and you throw your head back laughing, leaning back onto his shoulder.

'cause i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's just when you happened that's right when you happened got so damn close to packing it up but that's right when you happened mm, then you happened

the last clip is of him, wearing a thin shirt and shorts, back to the camera. he's standing on the docks, hand reaching behind him to you.

your hand, he recognizes, slips into his perfectly and he turns, a devastatingly smitten look on his face as he looks to you.

when the music ends, he's pouting a little to keep from crying.

normally he doesn't get emotional easily, but you make it so easy for him to be vulnerable.

you smile, a little wobbly but gorgeous as ever as he tugs you onto his lap, burying his face into your neck.

he's sure you can feel his teary eyes and warm cheeks, but he doesn't mind.

"thank you, thank you," he mutters into your skin, clearing his throat when his voice cracks, "no one has ever done...anything like that for me before."

"you like it?" you ask, delighted.

"i love it, sweetheart," he tells you, kissing every inch of you he can.

those three words are back on his tongue, and if he's honest, they never left.

"i love you." he tells you steadily, his voice gravelly from the sheer force of his feelings.

you gasp a little, and he shakes his head: how could you ever doubt that he loves you with his entire being?

between tear-wet kisses and sweet, feather-soft caresses, you tell him you love him too.

he's never been too good with words, at expressing how he feels, but for you?

he'd tell you he loves you every single day.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

[sirenedeslily]

it’s late—so late, almost 3 a.m., and you’re both wrapped up in the stillness of a room where candlelight flickers shadows onto the walls. the low, warm glow casts an amber haze over everything, painting you both in soft, melted hues. outside, the world sleeps, leaving only the soft, steady hum of the record player filling the room, the quiet strum of guitar notes tracing through the silence like a whisper. the song is slow, thick with longing, and you feel it sinking into your bones, the way music sometimes does when the night is soft, and time stretches out like it’ll last forever.

matt’s sitting close, so close that you can see the delicate lines of ink woven across his arms, intricate designs that tell a thousand quiet stories. his tattoos blend into the soft shadows of his skin, his arm resting around your shoulders, fingers tracing light patterns down your back, almost absentmindedly, as though he can’t help but touch you. his hair’s messy, soft like he’s been running his hands through it all night. those blue eyes catch yours, and he smiles, just a little crookedly, like he’s been waiting for this moment all his life.

“you know,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle, a kind of reverence in it that you’ve only ever heard him use with you, “i could stay like this forever. just—us, right here.”

you can feel his breath, warm against your cheek, and his lips brush yours in a way that’s barely there, so light that it feels like he’s memorizing every tiny moment. he cups your face, his thumb tracing slow circles along your cheek as if you’re something precious, something he’d never want to let go of.

“you’re so perfect, you know that? like, how is it possible that i get to have you like this?”

his words are soft, sincere, threaded with that slight rasp in his voice that you adore. he keeps kissing you, slow and unhurried, like he’s got all the time in the world. each kiss feels like a promise—like he’s trying to tell you all the things he feels but can’t put into words. and you know him well enough to understand it; every kiss speaks volumes, a silent confession of all the love he holds in that heart of his.

between kisses, he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded, the faintest smile on his lips. his fingers brush through your hair, and he chuckles, low and warm.

“god, i love this,” he whispers, voice barely audible, almost like he’s speaking to himself. “i love you.” his hand moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in, his lips finding yours again. it’s gentle, yet there’s something deep and unyielding behind it, a kind of desperation like he’s scared this might all be a dream.

the song shifts, the guitar fading into a soft, distant refrain, and for a second, you’re both quiet, breathing in sync as you hold each other. the world could be crumbling around you, but here, with matt, it feels like nothing else matters. the room’s filled with the scent of autumn—clove, cinnamon, a faint hint of something woody. he pulls you closer, his arm tight around your waist, his lips pressed against your temple.

“can i just…keep kissing you?” he whispers, almost like he’s asking permission, and you feel the smile pull at your lips.

“matt,” you say, and he leans back just enough to look at you, blue eyes catching the candlelight. “you don’t have to ask, honey.”

a smile breaks across his face, a bit bashful, and he shakes his head. “just—you don’t know what you do to me.” his fingers brush over your jaw, tracing every line, and he presses another lingering kiss to your lips, softer this time, more tender. you lose yourself in him, feeling his warmth, his steady heartbeat, and the way his touch seems to melt away everything else in the world.

as the song fades, the room slips into silence, and he just keeps holding you, keeps kissing you like you’re the only thing that matters. it’s simple, beautiful, and as you both sink into that quiet, you realize you don’t need anything else. just him, just this moment, and the way he makes you feel like forever might just be real.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ lil comfort blurb, i love slow dance by clairo :p

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe @ncm9696

❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf @sturnsmia @tastesousweet

© sirenedeslily

[milkteabinniechan]

you're my baby, say it to me

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY | ☕

warnings: mentions of menstruation, panty grinding, aftercare <33

a/n: I just needed a soft chan for when I am going through it during that time of the month. This is purely self indulgent :((

Soft Channie who sings your favorite songs while you rest. The strumming of the guitar like soft kisses. Soft Channie who makes your favorite drink, perfect amount of cream and sugar, to ease your cramps.

Soft Channie who massages your feet while you talk about your latest TV show, all the drama happening between your favorite characters. Soft Channie who listens intently, pressing his palms into the palm of your feet, telling you how cute you look when you talk about your interests.

Soft Channie who cautiously grinds on top of your panties, knowing even the slightest stimulation will help your menstrual pain. Holding his shirt between his teeth, he slowly thrusts his hips into your soft, clothes cunt.

Soft Channie who lets small, pathetic whimpers leave his lips, careful not to push you too far or thrust too quickly. Soft Channie who is desperate to cum, his tip swollen and red against your fabric. Your clit poking through ever so slightly, to brush against it.

Soft Channie with impatient beads of cum forming at the tip. The shaft of his cock pulsating faster. You grab his face and force him to make eye contact, knowing it will be the end of him

Soft Channie who pours himself on top of you. Covering and coating you entirely. Soft Channie who apologizes again and again for making such a mess, kissing and cleaning you profusely.

[mywritersmind]

I hope your requests are open. I had this idea of Lando dating either a singer or dancer. Mostly inspired how he said in a video that he would like to be a singer for 24h. Basically Lando surprises the reader on tour on a location of your choosing. The fans are freaking out about him being there, because they haven’t made it official to their fans and after the show they make it public. Maybe by a post where he is backstage with her being fluffy or something. It’s purely an idea so if you don’t like it then feel free to ignore it.

ROCKSTAR BOYFRIEND - LN4

listen up : kissing! cuteness! some smau! thanks for request!! i love lando x singer for some reason and even tho this is short, it’s adorbs!

word count : 1098

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I squeal as I jump into my boyfriend's arms, he spins me around while my head is buried in his neck, “I missed you!” Once my feet are back on the ground, I look at him. Taking every bit of him in, the face I have memorized. I look into my favorite eyes in the world, and smile.

“I missed you too.” He tugs at my waist a bit and kisses me softly. “I’m excited for tonight.”

“Great to see you too, Y/n.” Max fewtrells tone makes me laugh instantly. He’s staring at us like we’ve commuted some crime.

“Hi Max. I’m happy you could come!” I lean into my boyfriend, noticing the camera around his neck.

He nods, “I’m worried how much you like Lan but, you’re good so.” I laugh as he gets distracted by my manager walking by with food.

Because he’s gone, I drag Lando to my dressing room where he immediately falls onto the couch, smiling widely. “Look at you, all famous and talented.”

“Right!” I tease, “You have no idea what it’s like!” I walk closer and Lando’s hands slide up the back of my legs, staring up at me.

He stops them right before the hem of my skirt. “You look good. Not fair that I have to share you with the thousands of people out there.” He refers to my current packed venue just as the opener starts another song.

He tugs me a bit closer so I move down slowly until I'm straddling him, his hands now on my ass as he smirks at me. Lando has this look that he does, like everytime he sees me he just has to be as close as possible to me.

I rest my hands on his neck and kiss him. He mumbles, “I really missed you.” He tugs me closer and kisses me harder.

I laugh into him, “I do have to go out eventually so don’t get too excited…” He groans when I say it and moves his lips to my neck, “Lando…”

“Don’t all rockstars do this?” He eyes me as I laugh, his lips meeting mine again as there’s a knock at the door.

Lando and I end up backstage with my crew while my guitarist strums on his guitar and my manager Ally goes over tonight as if I haven’t done it a million times.

I’m sitting on Lando’s lap, a bit more PG this time, with his hand on my hip as I listen to Ally talk.

She’s pacing before she turns and sigh at us, “You two are adorable.” It catches me off guard a bit because she’s always been the one saying we shouldn’t be public because of our careers.

It makes me happy that she supports us, even if she does think he’s bad press.

She’s pulled away as I get a five minute stage call. “You’re going to be amazing and i’ll be front row!” Lando grins, pushing my hair back behind my ear.

I laugh, “Lan, you’re in a box.” I’ve sat him and Max in VIP for my friends and family with Gracie Abrams and Finneas so that should be interesting.

“I’m seriously so proud of you.” His smile is so contagious, “You’re so talented and amazing and beautiful and perfect.” I want to cry at his words. But there’s no time because my stage manager hands me my microphone and points at his wrist.

I kiss him one last time before he leaves to find Max and go to their seats. Before I can step closer to the stage though, I get stopped by Ally.

Her face is stern, “I need to talk to you after the show, about Lando.”

I frown, immediately, scared of what she has to say. But her face goes soft, “I think you’re right, you should go public. You’re sickeningly in love and if that’s what you want…” I wrap my arms around her so tightly that she has to pry me off.

“I love you!” I scream so loud that even the crowd can hear me.

“Yeah yeah, say it with a raise.” she finally cracks a smile and squeezes my arm, “Go kill it out there.”

⋆༺

I’m sweating by the time the show is over. I can still hear the crowd screaming when I walk off the stage, the same grin I started with, still plastered on my face.

I scream when I see Lando. I could see him watching me the whole performance and I’ve never been so happy.

“Hey, you did insane!” Max is first to talk as Lando hugs me again.

I let out a breathy laugh as Lando kisses my cheek, “Thank you, Max!”

“Lando is so lucky to have someone so cool because it really evens out his weirdness.” Lando eyes Max who pulls up his hands in defense and wanders away.

Lando kisses me again, “You did… I can’t even explain it! You fit so well on stage and I was singing every lyric!”

I raise a brow, “You know every lyric?”

He nods enthusiastically, “Me and everyone in my garage! I play nothing else before a race.” I shake my head, running my hands through his curls, “But you seem extra happy… is it because i’m here?”

I roll my eyes even though he’s right, “I have some news.”

His jaw drops when I tell him we’re going public. He doesn’t even consult his PR people before posting the pictures.

⋆༺

LANDONORRIS

liked by yourusername and 823,644 others…

landonorris SHES MY GIRLFRIEND SUCKERSSSS @//yourusername ily🙂‍↕️🫶🏻

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gracieabrams : Break her and i’ll kill you.

↳ landonorris : If I fuck this up, please do.

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↳ yourusername : keep that up and i’ll dump you.

↳ landonorris : yes ma’am🫡

oscarpiastri : Finally you can talk to someone else about her. Y/n, you’re great and all but I know far to much about you.

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yourusername : my idiot 💗🫶🏻

↳ landonorris : my love 😍🧡

↳ carlosainz : WHIPPED

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↳ maxverstappen : WHIPPED

↳ georgerussell : am I the only one who thinks this is cute?

↳ lewishamilton : George.

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↳ francocolapinto : WHIPPED🫵

[eunimaybe]

⟡ enhypen when you can’t fall asleep

enhypen hyungline x fem. reader | what they do when you can’t seem to fall asleep

genre: fluff, est. relationship | wc. 0.5k EN- a/n: i wrote this really fast so if there are any mistake please tell me ^^ also!! if you want to be added to my permanent taglist, you can request in my inbox or on this post

lee heeseung

it’s been ages since you turned off the lights, but you’re still wide awake. no matter how hard you try to doze off, something keeps you from sleep. as you toss and turn on the bed, more restless than usual, you feel an arm wrap around your waist. - more under cut!!

“can’t sleep?” heeseung asks, looking at you with sleepy eyes. his voice is quiet in the room, and his soft hair is touseled.

“yeah, can’t sleep.” you reply, your voice barely a whisper.

heeseung pulls you into his warm embrace and rests his chin on your shoulder before singing a song. his voice is like honey, smooth and soothing and you find your eyes shutting close. he gives your cheek a little kiss before murmuring into the darkness.

“i love you.”

park jongseong

your head is on jay’s shoulder, eyes closed as you listen to him play the guitar. the sound of his fingers moving from fret to fret is oddly comforting and you find yourself relaxing.

you had woken up jay earlier on in the middle of the night from your tossing and turning, and he had gotten his guitar out to play for you.

“getting sleepy?” jay asks, the soft strumming of the guitar continuing.

“mmhmm,” you mumble. “i’m so tired.”

the music from the guitar stops, and you can feel jay’s fingers sweep away the hair from your face.

“good night.”

sim jaeyun

you lie with your head on your boyfriend’s arm, using it as a pillow. jake is busy talking about whatever random that comes into his head, his voice quiet and calming. it’s his own little way to help you fall asleep better on restless nights.

“y/n, you know i love you right? you do know that i love you more than anything?”

you smile despite your drowsiness. “of course i do.”

jake wraps his other arm around you, enveloping you in his arms.

“do you love me?”

“of course i love you. i love you so much,” you mumble. “now shush, i’m feeling sleepy.”

park sunghoon

sunghoon’s warm hands massages the knots in your shoulders and your calves, his touch gentle as you let yourself relax into his touch.

you had been lying awake from the pain in your muscles, sore after a whole day at the rink practicing, and sunghoon had woken up from your frequent tossing in the bed.

“does it feel okay?” sunghoon asks. his voice is hushed, barely audible but you still hear him.

“yeah,” you reply, letting your eyes close. “sorry for waking you up by the way, you must be really tired.”

sunghoon gives you a kiss on your collarbone. “you don’t need to apologise, angel. anything for you.”

✉️: @icyy-hoon

[littlexdeaths]

whiplash - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

warnings: teeny tiny violence, reader has a panic attack, eddie is the sweetest, eddie and reader are in college

a/n: this is absolutely inspired by my first experience being shoved into a mosh pit at an avenged sevenfold concert when i was a wee teen. i hope you enjoy xx.

also shout out to my love @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me with the title and some of the dialogue, and my bby @undead-supernova for beta reading for me. ILY BOTH SO MUCH 💕

hot, sweaty bodies were pressed against you at all angles, nearly suffocating you. at this point you couldn’t even see the band playing on the stage, a sea of taller bodies now blocking your view.

when your best friend asked you to attend a metallica concert with her you didn’t exactly know what to expect.

but this definitely wasn’t it.

the small venue was packed, the air filled with the smell of sweat, marijuana and cigarettes. your choice of a leather jacket felt incredibly stupid as it was now tied around your waist due to the growing heat surrounding you.

your palms felt clammy as they clutched onto the hem of your friend’s shirt. the constant moving of the crowd seems to pull her farther and farther away from you. until the swirling pit of metalheads swallowed you both whole, losing sight of her head of blonde hair instantly.

your panicked shouts of her name were drowned out by the screech of an electric guitar— your body now being shoved around to the chants of ‘pounding out aggression.’ the song eerily fitting as you see a ringed fist connecting with another man’s jaw.

your heart is beating in your ears, that familiar feeling of panic washing over you as you continue to be shoved around like a rag doll amongst the group of men. until you somehow landed on top of someone… who had been knocked to the ground only moments before you.

before you have time to react a large hand quickly wraps around your forearm, yanking you up and out of the dizzying circle of death. you all but let the stranger carry you through the crowd. the male shoving past throngs of people until you’ve safely reached the back of the bar.

you barely register his voice as you lean against the brick wall, chest rising and falling at an embarrassingly fast rate. your eyes squeeze shut as you attempt to get your breathing under control. those same hands that pulled you out now rest carefully on your shoulders, helping to ground you.

“hey sweetheart, you alright?”

his face finally comes into focus as you blink your eyes open, your heart now beating against your ribs for a completely different reason.

he was painstakingly gorgeous, full lips lifting up into a soft, dimpled smile. “there she is— hey man can i get some water?”

he slaps his hand on the bar top, the clear liquid sloshing out as a glass is slid over to him. his chunky rings clink against the side when he grips it, now holding it up to your lips.

“it’ll help, trust me.” you gladly take the glass from him, gulping down the lukewarm tap water.

“thank you…” you mumble, setting the now empty glass back on the bar and wiping the corners of your mouth. you mentally forceyourself to stay put, despite the bigger part of you wanting to run out of the bar from sheer embarrassment.

“are you here by yourself?” he asks and you shake your head in reply before resting it against the brick wall behind you.

the brunette seems to be studying you while you take in some slow but shaky deep breaths. letting yourself do the same as your heart begins to return to a normal rhythm.

even in the muted light you can see his dark curls were damp with perspiration, bangs sticking to his forehead. no doubt from being in the middle of that pit for quite a while. his cut off band tee showed off an extensive collection of tattoos. that soft smile morphs into a small smirk, as you realize you’ve been gawking at him.

calming breaths long forgotten.

“you can g-go back out there… w-wouldn’t want to keep you from the show.” you fumble over your words, now finding the sticky floor and your beat up sneakers far more interesting than the gorgeous metalhead before you.

the male chuckles, casually resting his shoulder against the wall next to you. his hot breath fans over your cheek when he leans in closer, “not a chance, sweetheart. until we find your friends, you’re stuck with me.”

you glance back up at him, surprise crossing your features. you knew most people would gladly leave you behind in the shadows, especially considering the band that’s owning the stage. that sentiment alone makes the butterflies raging your insides flutter even faster. the chaos of the crowd is now forgotten as he grins sweetly down at you.

“i’m eddie, by the way.”

the music has seemingly gotten louder since the two of you left the crowd, now having to shout your name back in reply despite the lack of space between you. his smile only widens as you turn to face him fully, crossing your arms over your chest.

“and what is a fair maiden like yourself, doing in a place like this?”

you can’t stop the giggle from leaving your lips as he gestures dramatically around the dingy bar before his dark eyes are back on you.

“oh no reason at all… just needed a study break.” he can tell from the ride the lightning t-shirt adorning your frame that you’re teasing him, but he plays along anyway.

“so you stumble into a random metal concert, only to get caught in a circle of death? that’s quite the break, sweetheart.” he nudges your foot with his own, earning another giggle from you.

“something like that, yeah.”

he hums in response, running a hand through his unruly curls, “duly noted— i’ll have to take study breaks like that more often.”

the two of you quickly fall into easy conversation, no longer paying attention to the concert goers surrounding you.

despite having only met him less than half an hour ago, you both seem quite comfortable with each other. any embarrassment from your small panic attack now a fleeting memory as he tosses his head back with laughter. the sound warming you from the inside, out.

“gotta say i’m a little shocked, first show and you’re already hitting the pits like a pro.” he jokes, leaning in a little closer to you. the scent of his spicy cologne washes over you, making your head spin, “practically took that guy out by sitting on him.”

you groan in embarrassment, playfully shoving his shoulder as he laughs again.

“i’ll have you know i’m quite fond of the music… just not the…” you gesture towards the sea of bodies that are jumping, shoving and headbanging to for whom the bell tolls.

“moshing?” he finishes for you, as you nod sheepishly.

before he has a chance to say anything else, a loud squeal fills your ears as a body slams into you at full force. nearly knocking you over in the process.

“there you are, babes! i’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

earlier you would’ve been relieved to hear your best friend’s voice, but now you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. hoping your emotions aren’t written across your face, but she doesn’t seem to notice. she’s a little too preoccupied with staring at the male leaning next to you.

“now who is this?” her tone is overly playful, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively.

before she can embarrass you further, you elbow her in the ribs. effectively stopping anything else from leaving her mouth besides a little huff.

“eddie munson, certified mosh pit rescuer at your service ladies.”

he does a little half bow, causing both of you to break into a fit of giggles.

“wow… a modern day knight in shining armor huh?” she teases but seems impressed nonetheless, “wish i had a hot guy to pull me out of there, i basically had to army crawl my way out.”

even in the shitty bar lighting you can see his cheeks are tinted pink from her compliment, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“it was nothing really, just happy to help.” he shrugs before pushing himself off the wall, sliding his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans.

“modest too? where did you find him?” she gushes, gently bumping her hip into yours. “and does he have a brother?” she whispers that part to you, ignoring the way you roll your eyes at her.

“well i see you’re in good hands now, sweetheart, i hope you enjoy the rest of the show.”

as he turns to leave you feel your friend shove you forward, giving you a look that screams, ‘are you insane? don’t let him get away!’

“eddie, wait!” you shout, gently tugging on the male’s wrist before he gets too far. that dimple making another appearance as he turns back to you.

“miss me already?” eddie teases, fully enjoying the flustered look that crosses your features.

“i uh, i-i’d really like to thank my knight in shining armor properly… maybe over coffee?” you nervously chew on your lower lip, praying that you didn’t read this entire interaction wrong.

but seeing his face light up squashes any doubt, watching as he grabs a pen off the bar. holding the cap between his teeth as he takes your hand, scribbling his phone number onto your palm with a satisfied grin.

“looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before disappearing into the rowdy crowd.

tagging some moots who seemed interested 💛

@babygorewhore @hellfirenacht @thepurplelovewitch @impmunson @voyeurmunson @madelynraemunson @take-everything-you-can @corrodedcorpses @serasvictoria @munsonhoneybaby @splendiferous-bitch @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs

all dividers made by yours truly 💕

[luvrxbunny]

sweet

pairing: bf!Eddie Munson x f!reader

summary: Eddie is trying to see what it takes for you to ask him for help.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, praise kink, dry humping, cum in pants (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i blacked out after two sentences i have no clue where the rest came from. apparently i was too horny to give a proper ending?

Eddie can see your hyper-focus on your hands, his heart is melting at the way you’re trying so hard to follow what he showed you even though he knows you can’t focus when you’re high. 

It’s 10:37 pm, you and Eddie are high and he’s been trying to teach you the chords to his new song for 20 minutes now. He’s chuckling quietly as your fingers fumble over the strings again, drawing a frustrated whine from your mouth. 

“Aww, It’s okay, baby. You’re doing much better than you were earlier! You’re actually picking this up way faster than I thought you would.” Eddie is genuine when he says it but it’s your reaction that changes that.. that changes his intentions. He watches your face as he praises you, he watches your eyes glaze over, and your lips part gently as a soft smile spreads over your face. 

“Th- Thank you, Eddie. That’s so nice of you, thank you.” You sound so out of it. It shocks Eddie for a moment but makes perfect sense. He thinks of all the time you ask him for help with your studies, even though he knows you know the material. He thinks of all the time he cheers for you after getting the right answer, how he praises you and calls you his smart girl. He thinks of all the times you bake for him, asking for him to taste test them even though you’ve made the recipe a million times, he thinks about his exaggerated moans of delight, how he would get on his knees and beg you to make him a batch. 

He thinks about times exactly like this one, when he’s playing his guitar for you and you beg him to teach you. He thinks about how quickly you pick them up and how you beam at him when you finally get it. The only difference now is that you’re higher than he’s ever seen you. 

You wanted to celebrate for midterms so Eddie rolled you a blunt instead of his usual joints. Of course, his little lightweight got high out of her mind. You got so soft and cuddly that he could’ve never denied you when you asked him real nice to teach you the new chords. 

He comes out of his thoughts just in time for him to hear you nail the part you’ve been struggling with, perfectly. His blood rushes to his cock when he notices the way you look up at him, expectantly, almost… desperately. “Such a good job, baby.” It comes out more sultry than he meant it to but he’s never been able to hide his emotions with you. 

He watches your eyebrows, twitch in confusion but you don’t break his gaze. You’re waiting for more. He has to take a deep breath as his sensitive tip presses against the zipper of his jeans. His hands are twitching at his sides as he gets up, leaving his desk and making his way to where you sit on his bed. “That was amazing, honey. You’re better than I am, you’re perfect.”

He watches your thighs tense, trying to rub together as your hips lift to press you against his guitar as you get a faraway look in your eyes. You’re looking right at him as you grind yourself into his guitar, he doesn’t think you even realize you’re doing it. He lays down next to you, watching your bottom lip tuck under your teeth as you shake your head with a small smile. “No, not better than you, Eds. I could never beat the best, baby.” 

Eddie has to actively bite back a moan at the pet name, he feels like he’s gonna fucking pass out as all his blood rushes south. He knows you’re trying, he knows you’re trying to turn him on, asking him to make you feel good without actually saying the words. 

He’s told you time and time again how hot your pet names get him, he knows it’s silly but he cannot help it. Every time you speak to him with any ounce of sweetness he’s fattening up in his jeans. “But you’re perfect then?” He presses his hips forward, loving the pressure your plush thighs provide against his throbbing cock. His eyes almost roll back as he watches a silent moan fall from your mouth as your hips twitch, forward first against his guitar but back again to press into his boner. 

He smiles and raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you. You never initiate. He knows you’re shy, he knows it’s hard for you. He knows he’s all of your firsts but he needs— he craves to hear you beg him- to hear you ask him to touch you. He’s insecure, he can’t have this be so one-sided. He wants to see how far he has to push you before you say something. 

You’re nodding at him desperately. “Yes- Yes, I’m perfect.” He’s smiling so fondly at your agreement, his dick twitching painfully in his pants. He knows you feel it by the way your hips twitch, pathetically confused and you whine. It’s short and cut off as you turn to put his guitar away, placing it gently on the ground. You brush his cock and give him a beautiful view of your ass in the process. He’s silently begging you to say something, he doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. 

You turn back around and just stare at him, waiting for him to say something. He watches confusion bloom over your face, your head tilting like a puppy. He mimics your action with a teasing smile. “Do you have something to ask me, baby?” He watches realization and dread spread over your features. 

“Eddie…” Your thighs are rubbing together, nervously or for friction. He doesn’t falter, just looks at you expectantly as you pout. His hips are subconsciously thrusting up into the air, getting hot under your gaze. You press your hand to your forehead, astonishingly stressed at this seemingly simple task. Eddie considers letting up as he analyzes the distress on your face but you speak up. 

“Eddie can you-” You whine and avert your gaze. “Can you make me feel good? I—“ You huff out a breath of embarrassment. “I want you to make me cum… please.” His heart bursts at how nicely you ask. He’s taking a slow deep breath, trying to calm himself before answering you but you take his silence as a demand for more. “Eddie please!” You sound so upset, it's so cute. It makes him so hard. “Please, I- I need it. I need you, Eddie, please.” You’re still not looking at him as you whine. 

Eddie turns your head and smashes his lips into yours just to shut you up. If you had kept rambling about how bad you need him he would’ve cum in his pants. “Yeah. Yeah, I can make you feel good, baby. What do you wanna do, pretty girl? We can do whatever you want. You asked me so nicely, honey. You’re so sweet.” 

He’s desperate and all over you as he speaks. His hands are in your hair as he kisses all over your face and down your neck. You feel like you could suffocate in his need for you, it rushes over you and makes you need him more. “Your- Can we- Eddie.” 

He’s biting into your neck as you try to answer. You can feel him smirking in your neck as you struggle to answer him. “ ‘M sorry, baby. Go on, talk. You’re doing so well, honey.” He pulls himself closer to you so he can press his bulge into you again, his eyes fully rolling back at the pressure this time. “I want you to…. fingermeplease?” He moans at the way you rush out the last part of the sentence but still manage to use your manners. 

“You want me to finger you, baby? Fuck, yeah. I can do that. Mhm. You wanna sit between my legs? Let me open you up and play?” You’re nodding frantically and whining against his face as he lets filth spill from his lips. “Yeah? Will ‘ya squirm, honey? No, no I bet you’ll stay put like a good girl, huh?” 

He pummels you with his embarrassingly arousing words as he gets up to take his pants off (as you do the same), leaving his boxers and situating himself against the headboard. His thick thighs spread wide over his bed, leaving room for you to crawl between them. You don’t move though, you’re too mesmerized by the way his cock is pressing against the fabric, leaking into it and leaving a rapidly spreading dark spot. It can’t help but twitch as you admire him, he can’t take it; the hungry yet somehow innocent look in your eyes as you crawl towards him. 

Normally this is the part where you turn around, your legs spread and trembling over his as he shoves his fingers in your pretty pussy over and over until you’re quivering around his fingers, moaning and gripping his hair behind you desperately. Normally this is the part when he presses his boner to your lower back, thrusting against you in time with his fingers, imagining that it’s actually his cock inside you and willing himself not to cum when he pictures it for too long. 

Instead, you lift yourself to your knees. His face becomes level with your panties, his hips thrusting into the air as he groans at the pink bow resting on the band. You put your hands on his shoulder and slowly lower yourself onto his lap, letting out the sweetest moan as his soaked cock pushes into your dripping lips. His hands come up to your hips and force you down to him rougher than he meant to when he hears the sweetest whimper of “Oh, Eddie” slip from your throat. 

“Oh my fucking god, baby. You feel incredible, so fucking perfect. I can’t take it. Mm- Oh— What happened? I- I thought you wanted my fingers, sweetheart?” He’s throwing his head back and groaning when you collapse into him, leaning your weight on his bulge. You’re huffing out like you’re gonna cum, looking up at him with your pretty, glazed over, fucked out, high as fuck eyes. 

“I dunno, Eddie. I- It looked like he was- like he was crying for me.” Your hips stutter with a moan as your eyes roll back, Eddie’s hard cock rubbing against your clit perfectly. He feels like he’s gonna cum as you confess. It confounding to him; how you can say the most whorish things in the sweetest way. 

“You are in-fucking-credible, my love. I have no clue how you do this to me. I’m already so close, baby. You’re so amazing, so soft for me, love.” His eyes roll back and he’s losing it.

“You’re gonna make me cum— fuck. Holy shit—faster. Oh-h f-fuck me faster, baby. I love you so much. I- I’m gonna cum so hard. I- dammit. I wanna make you cum first. L-lemme make you cum first- shi-itt.”

You’re rabid against him, your hips moving at a pace that has him weak. You have him questioning who’s in control. He’s wound even tighter when he feels your hips falter, losing their rhythm as your mini whines evolve into desperate moans. “H-Help- Ed—” 

Your breathing is scattered as you whine and twitch against him. “Yeah, I’ve got you, baby.” He grabs your hips and grinds you against him, lifting his hips to meet your heavenly pussy and pressing magnificently into your clit. It has your hands digging into his shoulders, dropping down to his waist as you hug yourself to him. You’re moaning into his ear as he feels your thighs tensing on his sides.

“T-tell me-” You whine higher, more pathetically than he’s heard all night, his cock pulses, spurting out a dangerous amount of pre-cum into his boxers. “Tell me I’m good. T-Tell me I’m pretty—” You cut yourself off with a gasp as you buck your hips against him, a newfound energy coursing through you. “Oh- please- please tell me I’m pretty.”

Eddie’s right on the edge, moaning so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole trailer park heard him. “YES- Yes, oh my god. You’re so beautiful, my love. You’re a fucking goddess among peasants. You’re a flower in a field of fucking hay, you’re my dream. You’re my soulmate.” He dissolves into a whine as you cum against him. You’re moaning into his shoulder, trying to muffle yourself in his shirt but you’re too loud. 

“There you go, fuck yes. Good girl— Oh shit. I’m gonna-” His eyes are in the back of his skull before he can finish. His hips twitching insanely and spurting out an outrageous amount of cum into the fabric of your panties. He’s panting as he tries to come down but you’re deliriously humping him. Forcing more ropes of cum into his boxers, he just can’t seem to stop. 

“Oh. Oh my god- I- I can’t stop. You’re such a good girl. Mine. My good girl. Askin’ me to make you feel good, takin’ what you need. God-” A ragged moan bubbles out of him as his cock finally stops drenching your poor panties. 

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

[midnighvtm4ss]

omg I feel like if anyone could write this right it’s going to be you. we need arthur FLUFF with a reader on her period!!!

RISES THE MOON

cw: fluff, toothaching fluff, period cramps, arthur is a sweetheart, please arthur marry me :( wrote this on my notes app, grammar errors

wc: 1,8k

a/n: this piece was so comforting to write aaa thank you anon for the request <33 i hope this will soothe anyone who’s having period pain rn, i suggest you listen to this song and this one, i had them on loop while writing this. This piece is shorter than the others but I think it suits the mood in a way,, idk ! enjoy!!

The last few notes of the sweet melody coming from Javier’s guitar floated quietly in the air.

The night had fallen gently over the camp, wrapping everything in a quiet, soothing stillness. The campfire flickered softly, casting a golden light on the nearby trees, creating a cozy circle of warmth for those near it. Most of the gang had long since retired for the night, leaving only the faintest murmur of voices in the distant watching post and the occasional pops and cracks of burning wood.

You stood near the fire, trying to find some relief from the chill in the air, but more than that, you were trying to ease the dull ache that spread through your body. The cramps had been like little devils on your lower belly throughout your day, starting as a minor constant discomfort but now growing into something more relentless, making you wince with every movement and your back aching with every step.

Your day was filled with chores left and right as some of the girls left camp and went into town under the request of various groceries items for Pearson’s wagon. You wanted to join them but unfortunately your body had other plans. You came up with a simple excuse and promised to go with them another time. You hadn’t mentioned the true cause to anyone—it was just your period, no need to alarm anyone after all—but now, at the end of the day, you were desperately ready to crawl into the comfort of your bed and hope the night might lend you some kind of relief.

Arthur had been finishing up his usual nightly chores, checking on the horses and bringing them fresh hay. He always had a fondness for horses, no matter if they were his or someone else’s. His love for them often found sketched freely in the various pages of his journal. As he made his way back from the hitching post his eyes scanned the surroundings, making sure the camp was in order for the night. His eyes, like magnets drifted to your figure near the campfire.

You could feel his eyes on you, catching the small signs of discomfort you tried so hard to hide behind your calm demeanor. But he noticed something was off, he always noticed. The way your hand kept drifting to hold your stomach, the subtle wince that crossed your face when you thought no one was looking—it didn’t slip past him.

The crunching sound of boots on dirt floated in the air making its way towards you. You knew who it was and you took a moment to regain yourself and put on a calm façade.

“Y’alright, darlin’?” The gentle rumble of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he came to sit down on the log beside you, his gaze full of quiet concern as he searched your face for any hint of discomfort.

“Sure,” You tried to smile through the ache, not wanting to make a fuss. “just a little sore from the day. It’s nothing.”

But Arthur wasn’t one to brush things off, especially when it came to you. He studied your face for a moment, his brow furrowing making a small expression line form between his brows in that familiar way that told you he wasn’t about to let it go. Without saying anything, he slipped a warm, steady hand to the small of your back, moving it in small comforting circles.

“Come on,” he sighted, his voice still soft but insistent. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”

He guided you away from the fire and toward the tent. You didn’t argue. The idea of lying down, of finally resting, sounded too good to resist.

The two of you slipped into the quiet of the tent, Arthur hand left yours to go and close the front flap of the tent and light up the creaky old lantern on the makeshift bedside table, the lantern casting a soft glow over the familiar space.

The moment you sank down onto the bed, you let out a long sigh, curling up slightly to your side in an attempt to relieve some of the tension in your belly. But even then, the cramps persisted, growing stronger by the minute.

Arthur knelt beside the cot, his arms folded on the soft mattress watching with that careful, gentle intensity of his. He reached for the blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness so far different from his usual hard front he put up with everyone. Then, without a word, he got up, kicking his boots away and settled down beside you, his large frame stretching out on the bedroll as he gently pulled you into his arms resting your head on his firm chest.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he whispered. His breath warm against your temple as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you higher against his chest.

You melted into him, resting your head against his chest, your body relaxing instantly in the comfort of his embrace. Arthur’s warmth surrounded you, his steady presence already making you feel better, more at ease. His hands, rough from all the manual work, moved with a soft, gentle care. One hand drifting under your nightgown towards your lower belly, the action far from sexual while the other moved to untangle your hair from the simple hairstyle you had for the day.

“That time of the month?”

You let out a muffled grumble against the fabric of his red union suit as an answer, making Arthur let out a small laugh.

“I can tell it’s hurtin’ you,” he said quietly, his voice low and soothing as his thumb began to rub slow, comforting circles over your stomach. “Let me help.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft breath as the warmth of his hand started to ease some of the ache. His touch was gentle, massaging your lower belly putting just enough pressure to soothe the tension without causing more discomfort. The pain didn’t go away completely, but the care in his movements, the way he held you, made your heart sing with joy making it easier to bear the pain.

“That’s better,” you whispered, your voice soft with relief. “Thank you.”

Arthur’s lips curved into a faint smile, though you could feel the ghost of worry still lingering in the way his hand moved over your belly, never stopping, never hesitating. “You don’t gotta thank me for takin’ care of you, darlin’,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’d do it every day if I had to.”

“Be careful of what you wish for, Mister. I might start to demand more if you spoil me”

“Oh I can’t wait,” he teased. “Forever at your service mylady.”

His words made your heart swell with warmth. Arthur wasn’t the type to shower you with flowery words or grand gestures, but it was in moments like these that his love showed itself at its truest form—in the quiet, steady way he was always there, making you smile, always looking out for you, even when you didn’t ask for it.

For a while, the two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in a cocoon of warmth. The moon rose higher in the sky and the outside world faded away. Arthur’s hand continued its slow, soothing movements, his touch tender and full of care, and little by little, the pain in your belly began to ease ever so slightly. You felt the tension melting away under the work of his hands, the cramps becoming a dull background ache rather than the sharp, insistent pain it had been just an hour ago.

“Y’know,” Arthur said after a long moment of comfortable silence, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet, “I remember Miss Grimshaw used to make me and John chamomile tea when we had stomach cramps.” his hands never stopped their movement.

“Marston used to drink a lot of it—that poor bastard always seemed to eat the nastiest shit he could find around,” he laughed lightly, reminiscing of the early days of the gang when a camp cook seemed such a privilege.

“Anyway, I can make you some if you want,”

You smiled against his chest, the simple thoughtfulness of his offer making your heart ache with affection. “That sounds nice,” you whispered, though truthfully, you were already feeling better just being in his arms.

“I don’t know how much it can be of help but it’s better than nothin’”

Arthur shifted slightly. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

Before you could protest for the lack of his warmth against you, he slipped out of the tent, moving with that same quiet efficiency he always had.

A few minutes passed, you were almost asleep when Arthur came back and with him the chill night breeze entered the tent waking you up.

“There,” he said softly, his deep voice full of quiet satisfaction as he sat the mug down the bedside table. He sat down beside you, pulling you up into a seated position before handing you the tin mug filled with the golden brown liquid. “This should hopefully help.”

You nestled into him, feeling the warmth of the mug and the steady, grounding presence of Arthur beside you. It was amazing how he could make everything feel better, just by being there—by holding you and letting you know, without words, that he was there for you.

A comforting silence fell on both of you as you drank your tea slowly, feeling your whole body relaxing with each warm sip you took.

After a while, the pain in your belly faded into the background, and you found yourself growing drowsy in the soft cocoon of warmth and care that Arthur had created around you. You laid down again and Arthur followed your action putting your head on his chest. His hand moved to your back, tracing lazy, soothing patterns there, his fingers brushing gently over your spine.

“Y’know there’s no need to hide when you’re hurtin’. You’re always helping everyone around, sometimes you gotta stop and look after y’rself.”

“Arthur,” you whispered, your voice full of sleep and gratitude. “I love you so much, I don’t deserve you.”

He huffed a soft laugh, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed another kiss to your temple. “Ain’t no such thing,” he murmured, “you deserve more than me.”

His words, so downgrading for himself yet full of love for you, made your heart ache in the best way.

“You’re everything I need,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyelids grew heavy. As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped safely in Arthur’s arms, the pain and discomfort of the day faded away completely, replaced by the quiet, steady warmth of his love.

[sanakiras]

BLOOM FOR ME

PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader

WORD COUNT — 18.1k

SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!

♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song

NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x

you and kim mingyu just don't work.

to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.

and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.

all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.

you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.

soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.

and then there’s mingyu.

he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.

the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.

you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.

yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.

perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.

non-existent.

neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.

for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.

or, well — that used to be the case.

because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.

it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.

had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.

it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.

but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.

neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.

after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.

but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.

when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.

“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.

“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“what we did. together.”

“we fucked. so what?”

oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.

“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”

“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”

“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”

“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”

even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.

“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”

sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”

his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.

“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”

“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.

“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.

to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.

many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?

he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.

mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.

he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.

his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.

if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.

and now, those feelings have only increased.

his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.

then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.

god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?

it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.

when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—

—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.

it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?

then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.

he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.

cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”

“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”

that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.

the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.

your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.

it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.

tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.

which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.

by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.

well, shit.

the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.

what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.

he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.

it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don’t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.

“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”

mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.

it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.

it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.

both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.

it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.

mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.

“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”

oh.

he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.

so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”

“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”

“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”

you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”

the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”

“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”

god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.

“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”

mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”

“not even a little bit?”

you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”

he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”

“i said no basics.”

“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”

“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.

“you’re evil.”

“thank you.”

he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”

“congratulations.”

“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”

“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”

mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”

“oh, you mean like a conversation?”

he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”

“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”

“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”

“which of your friends is closest to you?”

yeah, he should’ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.

he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”

“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.

“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”

“no.”

“why?”

“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”

“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”

“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it then?”

“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”

he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.

physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”

“okay. anything i should know?”

you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”

he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”

not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.

mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.

once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”

“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.

“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.

and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.

it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.

“hey. mingyu.”

he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”

“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”

“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.

“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”

“many times, actually.”

“good. ‘cause you are.”

jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.

“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.

mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”

“what does she do?”

“law.”

“she nice?”

“to a specific group of people, yeah.”

“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”

“not mean. just distant. very distant.”

“that’s new.”

“what is?”

“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”

“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”

“how do you know?”

mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”

“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”

the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”

jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”

“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”

a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”

“soonyoung’s party.”

“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.

“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”

“ah, you like her.”

“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”

“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”

mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”

“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”

“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”

“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”

“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”

jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”

“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”

“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”

“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”

right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.

“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.

it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”

jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”

he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”

mingyu frowns at that. “how?”

and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”

the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.

someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.

you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”

“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”

“no, i like it this way.”

“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”

“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”

“what’re you working on?”

“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”

he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.

“are you always this much on edge?”

“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”

the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”

“not exactly the word i would use.”

“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”

you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”

he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”

“yeah. i’m not attending.”

“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”

“gosh, poor you.”

“i’m serious. it sucks.”

“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”

“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”

“so?”

“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.

“why?”

“why not?”

“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”

“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”

he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”

“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”

you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”

he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”

“ten.”

“dress code?”

“go for a cocktail dress.”

twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”

“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”

“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”

and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.

mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?

you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”

he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.

the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”

“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”

“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”

“must get quiet after a while.”

“i like it that way.”

your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.

once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.

you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.

as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”

the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”

mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.

the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”

which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”

before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.

“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”

“noted.”

once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.

and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.

“you okay?”

“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.

he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.

“am i imagining things—”

“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”

joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”

mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.

but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.

what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.

“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”

in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”

“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.

you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”

“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”

“why?”

“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”

his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”

whatever the fuck that means.

your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.

the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.

and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.

mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.

being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.

so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.

you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.

chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.

though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.

after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”

mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”

you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.

the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.

mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.

as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.

his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”

“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”

he snickers. “you hear that often?”

“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”

“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”

“doesn’t everyone?”

“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”

“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.

mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”

he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”

“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”

“why?”

when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.

“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.

before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.

whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.

“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.

so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”

they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”

he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.

it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”

the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”

“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”

she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.

but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”

and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”

you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”

the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.

worst thing is that she’s probably right.

you and mingyu just don’t work.

and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?

the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.

when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”

even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”

“i’m fine.”

“i’ll take you back.”

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”

mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.

then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.

goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.

she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.

mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.

the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.

god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.

you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.

of course it’s him.

“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.

“why am i here?”

“what do you mean?”

you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”

“are you angry at me?”

“answer the question.”

“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”

you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”

“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”

“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”

“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”

what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.

you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”

“well—what?”

“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”

“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”

“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.

it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.

“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.

so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”

he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.

whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.

his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.

mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.

there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.

you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.

holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.

“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”

the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”

with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

“are you sure?”

“yeah. please let me.”

“okay. just make it quick.”

in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.

your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.

his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.

another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.

“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.

it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.

“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.

you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.

“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”

the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”

he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.

mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.

“god—want me to fuck you?”

pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“fine. bend over the sink, then.”

the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.

so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.

his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.

all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”

you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”

it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”

“don’t act like you don’t like it.”

he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”

god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.

his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.

and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.

“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.

“how hard d’you want it?”

“as hard as you want. i can take it.”

he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.

his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.

you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.

it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”

“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”

you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”

“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.

mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.

you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.

he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.

“are you gonna cum, gyu?”

you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”

“i want you to.”

“jesus, don’t say that—”

oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.

“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.

his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”

“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”

his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.

it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.

he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”

he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”

“you’re quite literally inside me.”

“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”

“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”

“great. level 2 is next, then.”

“god, forget i said anything.”

“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”

something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.

because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.

and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.

the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.

and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.

he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.

it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.

something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.

so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.

20:23: you look cute when you’re focused

the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.

so he texts back.

20:24: i always look cute ;)

tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”

“no. you’re just scary.”

“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”

“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”

“wanna come over to my dorm?”

“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”

“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”

“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”

as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.

“mingyu.”

“hm?”

“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”

he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”

“she likes you.”

“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”

“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.

that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.

“what?”

“you’re jealous.”

“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.

“it’s actually kinda hot.”

“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”

“and yet you are.”

“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”

he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.

as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.

once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.

you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”

“i’m fine.”

he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”

you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.

mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.

so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”

he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”

when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”

“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”

“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”

“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.

“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”

“do you even have the time to help me?”

he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”

“always so humble.”

“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”

“whatever makes you sleep at night.”

mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.

he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.

and you hate how easily you get used to it.

for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.

which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.

so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.

as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.

“your girlfriend texting you again?”

mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”

“she might as well be.”

“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”

shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”

“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”

joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.

“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”

ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”

“have you told her you like her?”

“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”

joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”

“is she open with you?”

“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”

mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.

give it time.

which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.

you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.

just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember — it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.

a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.

“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”

his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”

“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”

“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”

with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”

“what do you have in mind?”

he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”

now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”

he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”

you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.

damn that asshole for making you like him this much.

saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.

mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.

it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.

your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.

then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.

before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.

he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.

mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.

watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.

you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.

shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.

it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.

you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.

the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.

it’s all yells of happiness on the field.

the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.

you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.

following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.

mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.

when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.

he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.

but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”

“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.

“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”

you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”

he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”

“something i’m very aware of.”

he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.

“wanna go catch a drink with me?”

“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”

“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”

he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”

you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.

“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.

you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”

“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.

once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”

oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.

you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”

you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”

christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.

he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.

you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.

“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.

his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.

you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.

arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.

“fuck, fuck, baby—”

you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”

it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.

his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”

“‘m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”

he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.

the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.

both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.

you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.

“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.

maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”

“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”

he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”

“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.

he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?

another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call — and you find yourself worried about him.

it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.

you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.

it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.

when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.

the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”

he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”

“absolutely.”

he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”

you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”

he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”

you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”

the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”

he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”

his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”

as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”

“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”

your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”

his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.

as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.

you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.

maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.

one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.

you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.

now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.

you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.

they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.

still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.

smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.

out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.

you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.

when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.

slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.

you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.

‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’

he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.

and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.

you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.

looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”

“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.

you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”

“is there anything i can do in return?”

“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”

the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”

a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”

your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”

it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”

“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”

the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.

he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.

and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.

whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.

but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.

after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.

when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”

“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”

“i haven’t been avoiding you.”

“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”

you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”

he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”

“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.

“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”

“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.

“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”

he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”

it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”

“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”

“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.” his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”

either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.

your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.

kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.

so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.

he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.

“fuck.”

it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.

which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.

it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.

you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”

minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”

hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.

“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.

“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”

he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.

your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.

mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”

he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.

there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”

they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.

he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”

“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”

“it’s not that easy.”

seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

the other two just deadpan a stare at him.

on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.

you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.

the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.

as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.

“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”

when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.

personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.

biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”

“and? what’s your judgement?”

“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”

he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”

him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.

people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.

and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.

in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.

“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.

you exhale when he doesn’t.

knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.

minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.

as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”

“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”

he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”

you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”

“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”

taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”

minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”

the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”

he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”

you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”

hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”

with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.

there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.

“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

“mind if i join you?”

of course. why are you even surprised?

without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”

“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.

you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”

luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.

he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.

since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.

the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.

his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.

you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.

liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.

the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.

“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”

“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”

your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”

of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?

mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”

that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.

“can i ask you something?”

you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.

“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”

an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”

“why not?”

blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”

“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”

“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”

he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.

“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.

“no, you don’t.”

“how would you know?”

you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”

“why?”

“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”

“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”

“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”

mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”

“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”

“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”

“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”

“since… always.”

“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”

“no, but i liked you.”

“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”

“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”

“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”

it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.

every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.

but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.

another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.

the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.

“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”

his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”

the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”

it’s not often you’re speechless.

he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.

“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”

he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”

“have a good night, gyu.”

you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.

as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”

letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”

“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”

you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.

“why do you even want me to?”

“‘cause i like you.”

“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”

“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”

“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”

his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.

mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.

“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”

you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”

but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”

“why don’t you wanna try?”

“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”

“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”

“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”

“then explain them to me!”

“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”

“no, i wouldn’t.”

“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”

“how do you even know that?”

“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”

“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”

the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”

“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”

“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.

and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.

“i don’t wanna lose you.”

he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”

his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.

it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.

mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.

he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.

you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[jobean12-blog]

The Reason for Flowers

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 2,432

Summary: You love flowers and you love giving Joel flowers...he loves it too.

Author's Note: Just because I love flowers and Joel and the thought of him with flowers in his hair. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness, awkwardness on Joel's part, fluff, tension, pretty flowers

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Morning!” You sing song as you walk into the bar and see Tommy and Joel.

Tommy gives you a wide grin from behind the bar and Joel turns to look over his shoulder, his lips twitching with a ghost of a smile.

“Mornin’,” Tommy says. “Finished your walk?”

“Yep,” you answer. “And look what I found!”

You sit yourself next to Joel and lean over the bar, plucking one of the orange poppy’s you picked from the bundle and calling Tommy over.

He rests his elbows on the bar and waits while you tuck one of the flowers behind his ear.

“Isn’t the color amazing?” you sigh before taking another and sniffing it. “And it smells great too.”

You turn toward Joel and grab another stem, twirling it between your fingers with a silent question in your eyes.

He leans closer and you meet him halfway, gently pressing the bloom close to his nose. He inhales softly and closes his eyes.

“Does smell good,” he says quietly.

You smile and then tentatively reach up and rest the flower on his ear, adjusting it and then tucking some stray strands of hair behind it.

“There,” you say and meet his eyes.

“Thanks darlin’,” he murmurs.

You kiss his cheek, lingering a bit longer than necessary before turning to Tommy and handing him the rest of the bouquet of poppies.

“Give these to Maria for me,” you tell him. “I wasn’t sure if she’d be up yet.”

“That’s sweet, thank you,” Tommy says, taking the flowers and placing them in a cup from the bar.

“See you guys later,” you say with a wave.

Once you’re out of earshot, Tommy’s eyes land on Joel and his lips turn up into a mischievous smirk.

“She likes you,” Tommy states.

Joel glares. “And why the hell would you say that.”

“Really?” Tommy asks, his eyes darting to the flower.

“You got a flower too,” Joel counters with pursed lips.

“But not a kiss,” Tommy says.

“She was just being sweet,” Joel mumbles. “And that wasn’t a real kiss.”

“Whatever you say big brother.”

“Is it too early for a drink?” Joel asks as he rubs his palms over his face.

“Where are you off to?” Joel asks when you pass each other on the street.

“Just going for a walk,” you tell him. “Want to come?”

He rubs the back of his neck, studying you. “I would…but Tommy is expecting me.”

“It’s ok,” you assure him. “Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says quietly.

You smile and walk off, turning around again when you feel the weight of his stare.

He immediately drops his head when you catch his eye, his feet shuffling and kicking up the sandy soil. You giggle to yourself and continue on, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to stop your smile.

With an armful of flowers, you walk back toward your house, slowing when you notice Joel sitting out on the porch with his guitar.

“Hey,” you say quietly.

He lifts his head and squints into the sun.

“Hi darlin’,” he answers.

“Mind if I sit?” you ask.

Without a word he shifts over on the edge of the porch.

“Do you like licorice?”

When he gives you a curious look you hold out one of the goldenrod flowers.

“Smell this,” you tell him.

He sets his guitar down and takes it from your fingers to give it a sniff, never taking his eyes off you.

“That really does smell like licorice,” he says.

“It’s not my favorite smell,” you explain, “but I love the yellow color.”

He gives you a lopsided smirk and pulls some of the small yellow petals between his fingers.

You take another stem and shorten it. Taking special care, brush his hair away from his forehead and then secure the flower behind his ear.

“I like this one,” you smile. “The bushy and wild petals match your hair.”

“What’re you sayin’ darlin’?”

His tone is playful, and you snort back a laugh, giving the flower one last adjustment.

“If you’re not busy tomorrow you should come with me.”

He nods and you lean in to kiss his cheek, this time, closer to the corner of his mouth. When you pull away you see his eyelashes flutter against his cheek.

“Well, well, well, look at you,” Tommy hums when he finds Joel at the old tool shed.

“All these tools are rusted,” Joel says, clearly disgruntled.

“I told you they were,” Tommy shoots back.

“What’re you smilin’ about then?”

“Nice flower.”

Joel instinctively reaches up to his ear, gently touching the soft flower still stuck there. He doesn’t bother responding.

“Did you get a kiss too?”

Joel just scoffs and continues searching through the old tools.

“Wonder how long it’s gonna take you to get your head outta your ass,” Tommy muses wryly as he saunters off.

The next morning when you open your door you’re greeted with more sunshine and a very uncertain looking Joel.

“Are you sure you want company?” he asks before even saying hello.

“Mornin’!” you chime happily then step into his space and kiss his cheek. “And yes. I’m sure.”

“Mornin’ darlin’,” he mumbles sheepishly.

He pops his knee out and sets his hands on his hips.

“I’m sure,” you say again when you see him standing there and hesitating. “Come on! We have flowers to pick!”

You walk in comfortable silence for some time, your fingers brushing every so often with the swing of your arms. Neither of you move away and when you catch sight of a canvas of purple blooms up ahead you entangle your fingers with his and pull him along.

“Oh, I think these are sticky geraniums!”

When you reach the spread of flowers you drop his hand and lean down to pick one.

“Yep!” you exclaim.

“Did you say sticky?” Joel asks.

You laugh and nod your head. “Yeah. There’s this sticky stuff on the petals that smells good and attracts insects, then they get stuck and the plant sort of digests them.”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. How do you know all this?”

“I found some old books about the native plants in the area, and I read them. All.”

He tracks your every move as you bend down and pick several of the purple flowers.

“I’m not sure it’s safe for you to come out here all alone every day,” he says.

You walk closer to him and hold up the flowers.

“Are you going to come with me from now on?” you ask as you twirl a stem between your fingers.

He takes it from you and holds it up to his nose.

“Smells like pine,” he states. “I like that.”

“It reminds me of you. It’s one of my favorites.”

You watch as several emotions flit across his features, and he drags his gaze from you to study the delicate purple flower again.

Neither of you have noticed the gray clouds that now blanket the sky but when a strong wind picks up and blows a chill through the air you shiver and look up.

“Where did the sun go?” you ask as you clutch your flowers.

“We best get back darlin’,” he says.

“Yeah, I guess we should.”

You shiver again and he starts to unbutton his flannel, tugging it free of his shoulders before draping it over yours.

With a soft smile he looks you over.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

His hand reaches out for you, and he rests his splayed palm on your lower back. You wait, your breath caught in your throat, as he dips his head and presses his lips to your cheek.

“You’re welcome.”

You wrap yourself in the warm fabric and discreetly sniff the collar, deciding that as much as you love the geranium smell, his shirt is absolutely your favorite.

“Do you want your shirt back?” You ask when you reach the door to your house.

He stares, his gaze lingering on your face before sweeping down your body.

“You keep it for now. Looks like it’s gonna be a chilly day.” 

After a slight pause of hesitation he says, “I uh…I would like some of the flowers though. If you don’t mind sharin’.”

With a bright smile you section off half of the geraniums and hand them to him.

“Not at all,” you whisper as you slowly wind your arms around his neck. “Thanks for coming with me.”

As you slide back down his body and onto your flat feet you brush your lips along his jaw, stopping just beside his mouth to press a soft kiss there.

You hold it, savoring the feel of his rough beard against your soft lips and the hint of the taste of his skin.

“Anytime darlin’,” he says when you finally pull away.

He waits until you’re inside and your door is shut and locked. You watch from the window as he walks down the street, flowers in hand, until he reaches his door, and the first drops of rain start to fall.

The rain doesn’t let up for the rest of the day but thankfully the next morning you wake to the warmth of sunshine spilling through the window.

You stretch out on the bed before snuggling back into the warmth of Joel’s shirt. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind that you had slept in it, but it was just too comfortable and smelled too good.

Once you’re washed up and ready for the day you head downstairs to get breakfast before your morning walk. A knock on the door causes you to pause, the early hour making you cautious.

You peek out the window first and find Joel standing at your door. When you open it you’re greeted with broad shoulders and his gruff voice.

“Hi,” you say softly.

“Hi,” he says. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Your lips spread into a smile. “You didn’t. Just wasn’t sure who else would be out this early.”

He laughs nervously but then you watch his expression change as he realizes that you’re still wearing his shirt. His swallow is audible and his tongue darts out to trace the outline of his lips.

“I hope this is ok,” you say quickly, motioning to yourself. “I just sort of fell asleep last night. You can…”

He dips his head and runs a hand through his already mussed hair. You notice his other hand is hidden behind his back.

“I uh. I went out early this morning,” he blurts out, ignoring your comment about his shirt.

He doesn’t say anything more and instead reveals what he’s hiding. A bunch of large dark purple flowers cover his chest, and he smiles nervously.

“Are those…?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Petunias. Spellbound…at least I think they are. I checked one of the books but I’m not very good at any of this.”

“They’re gorgeous” you say excitedly, reaching for the stems.

He hands them to you, and you press the whole bunch to your face with a squeal of happiness. ��And they smell so good!”

“They reminded me of you,” he says, almost too quietly for you to hear.

“I love them.”

He smiles and continues to stare.

“Do you want to come in? I want to put these in a vase.”

You turn and open your door, waiting for him to follow.

He waits quietly while you get a vase and add water, setting the flowers on the table.

“I can’t believe you found these Joel.”

“Hmm?”

“The flowers…”

“What about them?” he asks, clearly distracted.

“I just can’t believe you found them,” you say again with a raise of your brow. “You ok?”

His eyes drop and linger on your legs before slowly sliding back up to your face. When you softly call his name again he clears his throat, letting a rush of words slide past his lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired…up early and all and someone in the town must have planted them and they took over the front of the house. There were a lot of flowers I think you’ll like. We can go there tomorrow.”

His clear awkwardness is endearing as he leans against the counter, strong arms crossed over his chest and his jaw tight, struggling to find the right words.

You take slow steps toward him until your chest brushes his forearms.

“We?” you ask with a smile.

He uncrosses his arms and rests his hands along the edge of the counter, gripping it tightly.

“I told you darlin;’ you can’t go out on your own. It’s too dangerous.”

“What about the days when it gets really cold,” you muse. “I like to go out even then.”

“You’ll need more of my shirts,” he says with a twitch of his lips.

“Don’t you need this one back?” you ask with a demure smile.

He doesn’t answer but you hear his breath hitch when you start to undo the top button. His breathing deepens with every inch of skin you reveal.

“I certainly don’t mind keeping it,” you say with the slight shrug of your shoulder. “I love having your smell on me.”

When you stop at the last button his eyes drop to your hands and he reaches for you, gently moving your fingers away and toying with the fabric.

He fumbles with the small button between his large fingers but finally pops it open, letting the material hang loosely at the sides. Only a sliver of your skin is exposed, and he slips his fingers between the space, light, and teasing.

His calloused fingertips move deliberately higher, parting the material and grazing your skin. You tremble and goosebumps spread along your arms.

His movements stop and his eyes lift to yours, holding your gaze as he closes the small distance between your bodies.

He continues to lightly graze your skin with his finger, never fully parting the material of the shirt, but inching higher until he traces the outline of your collarbone.

His hand slides behind your neck and his thumb brushes along your cheek. Your lips are parted, and his gaze drops as he moves his thumb to sweep it across their outline.

Lowering his head, his warm breath fans your cheek and his nose gently bumps yours, his lips hovering.

Your eyelashes lower and your hands reach up and find purchase on his shoulders.

“I’d like to return those kisses darlin’,” he murmurs against your lips.

His whispered name is like a prayer, and you cling to him harder, the soft press of his mouth stealing your breath.

[urhoneycombwitch]

Ok ok hear me out I have a different idea now after reading your phone sex blurb

What about after Eddie comes back from his tour they're out with friends and some other girl is chatting him up, trying to rub up on him in front of reader. And she wants to stake her claim but she can't because he's not hers, not technically; and he isn't into the other girl's attention because he just wants reader, but he can't be too earnest about that bc it'll scare her off.

Do I want them to grind on the dancefloor or have sex in the bathroom? Yeah maybe

foreword: more roommate!Eddie x reader filth. secret situationship fucking at a party style. ty anon <3

wc: 1.8k

cw: secret FWB, Reader with breasts + vagina, femme pet names used, fingering (R receiving), the return of Eddie Cums-In-His-Pants Munson, wee bit angsty, lots of hidden longing

____

This party is the most sound your apartment has ever heard- speakers thrumming bass lines through the floorboards, drunken friends’ laughter echoing off walls.

You and Eddie planned ahead, started plotting weeks ago to bribe various neighbors in the building to avoid catching a noise complaint- scratch brownies for the floor below, some pre-rolls handed off across the hall, party invites extended to whoever was in earshot.

Informal karaoke kicked off around midnight, as the room rose in heat from extra bodies and alcoholic flush; Robin and Steve are bringing down the house on the other side of the bathroom door, charming the crowd with a belligerently intoxicated rendition of a Beastie Boys hit.

Eddie’s got you pressed against the sink, your ass to the unforgiving marble of the counter while he teases his teeth over the skin of your neck.

“No marks,” you whisper, fist seizing up at the root of his hair, tugging. He stifles a moan into your skin while you continue to tell him off, voice just under the protective layer of music. “It’s bad enough there’s only one bathroom in this place. Someone’s bound to notice we’re both gone-”

Eddie suddenly drops to his knees, nosing at the strip of skin above your jeans that he lifts your shirt to reveal. Your breath stutters, and he grins before popping the button with his teeth, chocolate eyes eclipsed by the black-lust of his pupils.

“No one’s gonna hear you, ‘cuz you’re not gonna make a sound. Got it?”

The gush of arousal that meets Eddie’s fingers is invitation enough. You rock into his hand, and he angles his fingers up- you take two of them like a dream, as if your cunt had just been waiting to be filled by those long, dexterous digits, cold rings quickly warming to the skin-temperature of your thighs.

“That’s it,” Eddie mumbles, never more mouthy than when he’s face to face with his favorite pastime. And then, as if reading your mind- “Been waitin’ for me all night, hm? Poor thing. So wet…”

Outside, the song rises into a fast guitar solo bridge, quickening along with your breaths. Hoping there’s enough sound barrier, you brace yourself with one hand on the counter while the other buries itself into the heat of Eddie’s scalp.

Soft, dark curls slip between your knuckles, your thumb brushing gently under the layer of bangs to touch the bare skin of his forehead. It’s too tender, too endearing for what the moment calls, in direct contrast with the way Eddie’s plunging into you, the insistent, budging slope of his nose near the pounding apex of your thighs.

“Becca’s gonna notice.” Your thumb tracks a path to Eddie’s temple, so now you’re just cradling his head as he fingers you into oblivion. “You know- ah- Becca? The girl from down the hall that you invited, specially?”

If it wasn’t for the public setting, you’d take more time to calculate which buttons of Eddie’s to push; as it stands, you’re sort of flailing around in the dark, hitting random ones and seeing what lights up.

Seems to do the trick, though- in one fluid motion, Eddie shoves your jeans the rest of the way down and takes one of your knees over his shoulders, giving himself enough room between your legs to dip forward and latch onto on your clit.

His plush lips suck, fervently, in time with the rhythm of his curled fingers, managing to hit into that gummy spot that buckles your knees.

“Well Becca- isn’t- here, right now,” Eddie says, around lapping mouthfuls of you, hand on your hip near-bruising with the force it takes to keep you upright. “Besides, she invited herself.”

“I dunno… you seemed pretty excited to see her.” The muscles of your abdomen clench, then release, your head tipping backwards to thunk against the mirror.

There’s an arch in your spine, now, enough space for Eddie’s hand to migrate from your hip to low back, pulling you more insistently onto his tongue and fingers.

In response, the spot behind your navel tightens again, pleasure swelling with the music. It’s irritating that Eddie thinks you’ll drop the subject in favor of an orgasm, so you aim for another button, lashes fluttering at the ceiling, voice stretched thin as your resolve- “She gonna stay the night? Use the same bathroom you’ve finger-banged some other b-”

The wet, hot pressure on your clit disappears, a whine of protest crawling from your throat before Eddie can smother it with his palm. Luckily, the living room speakers are kind of shitty, crackling with feedback as the song reaches fever pitch volume.

Eddie’s fingers still within you, stretching to depths that make your eyes roll back as he rises to cover the length of your body with his own. His hand is big and warm over the lower half of your face, breath an angry huff by your ear as he growls, low- “It’s probably in your best interest to not finish that sentence.”

It’s some consolation that you have the option to bite. Tempting as that is, you let your glare speak for itself, brows knitting together as Eddie draws back to look at you.

There’s a bead of sweat running down the side of his jaw, disappearing into the curls he’s let loose for the night. The eyeliner you’d carefully applied for him pre-party is blurred from the humidity and exertion, a rosy flush in his cheeks to match.

Eddie crowds your vision, close enough for you to note the tiny freckle under his left eye twitch, and for a moment, everything is just him- all you can see, hear, touch, smell, dopamine flooding in a head spin of hormones that respond despite your best efforts to tamp them down.

The background noise fades away, and it’s just you and Eddie, panting and straining against the other. A squelch, as he adds a third finger, your breasts pushing into the solid expanse of his chest as you squirm up, mindlessly seeking release.

“Be good and come ‘fore this song is over,” he’s saying, thick fingers scissoring, your resounding moan stifled by his palm. “Then I’ll kick everyone out and let you come again.”

It’s the promise of another that undoes you, thighs shaking with the growing wave, lashes tickling Eddie’s knuckles as your eyes slam shut.

He keeps all the points of pressure that you need, plus more- hips pinning the frenetic rolls of your torso, tips of his fingers coaxing bright spasms from the channel of your cunt, forehead pressed like an anchor to your own as your body sings.

The whole time, he’s talking you through it, deep timbre just for your ears with rasping praise and encouragement. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart, that’s it. That’s it. Good. Let it all out. S’just me here, yeah? Just you and me. Fuck…”

By the time your hearing returns, Eddie’s dotting soothing kisses up the curve of your neck, apparently trusting you enough to let his hand drop from your mouth. You take a few deep, shuddering breaths, hand still buried in Eddie’s hair like a lifeline.

He doesn’t seem to mind, taking his sweet time pulling out of you, disentangling himself with lingering touches to any remaining bare skin.

While he tugs your shirt back into place, you turn to face the mirror, smoothing over flyaways and making sure you look somewhat presentable. You let Eddie’s hands roam as your heart rate stutters, working itself back down to normal while he refixes the button of your jeans.

His chin settles on your shoulder, arms twining around your middle; you let him take some of your weight, relaxing into his hold, eyes catching his in the mirror as you ask, quietly, “You want me to wingman for you? She seems nice. And it’s never a bad idea to sleep with someone who lives in your building.”

Eddie snorts, your dry attempt at a joke working wonders, grin on its way to devastating greeting your reflection. “You seriously think I’m the one who needs help? After the time I just showed ya?”

“Well based on my limited data-” your hips grind backwards without warning, and Eddie stiffens, smile slipping from his face as your own wicked grin takes over- “-I’d say you’re the one who came in his pants just from touching me.”

You wriggle in his arms to turn around, noses bumping, lips hovering in a not-quite-kiss as you whisper, “Say please and I’ll run and get you some new pants. Hand-delivered.”

Even with the wall of party noise, there’s a distinctive click as Eddie’s jaw ticks. He acquiesces, though, stopping somewhere just shy of grateful to grit out, “Please.”

You hum, pleased and thoughtful, leaning out of his space to lift a brow- “I think Becca’s into blue-collared boys.”

This fact, you’re basing off the one time you saw a UPS guy at your neighbor’s door. Sounds a lot better if you act like you know what you’re talking about, though, as if the list of things you know about Becca is longer than black hair and occasionally receives packages.

Distance, safety, one and the same, even though what your body begs for is to get closer, to soak all your senses in Eddie again. You wind a particularly pretty curl of his around your index finger. “Those khakis you wore once to Robin’s grad party and then never again- bottom drawer?”

When Eddie nods, he fixes you with a glare, nostrils flaring like he’s about to tell you off.

Before he can, though, you’ve wriggled from his grasp, reaching for the door handle with strict, hissy instructions about locking it after you’re gone and only opening for your special knock.

He obeys, deadbolt sliding into place, door swallowing the noise of the party in your absence.

It’s just Eddie now, leaning into hands over the sink, breathing hard like he hasn’t already blown a load three minutes ago.

The entire length of his middle fingers shimmer in the light, still coated with your arousal.

Eddie’s mouth waters. He thinks about you; how for a second, you were the only thing on his mind, how rare that is, for him to be so singularly focused.

Then he thinks about Becca. And stupid tight fucking dress pants.

The sink water gushes to a start as he jerks the handle on, sudsy hand soap scrubbing away at the smell of you, carrying it down the drain.

By the time you’re back, dreaded pants in hand, Eddie’s fixed an easy smile on his face, bickering at the ready. Almost normal, and certainly familiar.

It’s just simpler to keep some distance. Close quarters aside.