#it’s the first time he’s really left to be the responsible one and he’s not bad at it but he’s so out of depths | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bahablastplz · 3 days ago

Text

Battleground: Minho x Reader

Prompt: "Hii, i was wondering in you could write a one shot of alpha!minho x Alpha!afab. They met through their friend/roommate Jisung who is an omega, and they are enemies and Jisung has to break up their fights, but this one time they end up having sex while fighting for dominance." Content: Smut, angst, omegaverse, enemies to lovers, switch/dom Minho, switch reader, alpha reader/alpha Minho, afab!reader WC: 5000 Note: hi yes I got carried away with this but this was super fun to write. enjoy!

˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

You should have never trusted Jisung. This is often a motto of yours, actually, seeing as he’s responsible for nine out of every ten instances of trouble you find yourself in. But he has big pleading eyes and he can be so convincing that you throw caution to the wind every time he speaks.

You needed a new roommate. Your old one bailed on you (thank god, because she was actually the worst). She was filthy and never cleaned up after herself. She left dishes in the sink, piles of trash for you to take care of, and was blatantly rude. You let out a sigh of relief when she told you she was moving and it took all of two days for her to fuck off for no apparent reason. She left your life as violently as she entered it, however, leaving piles and piles of her junk for you to take care of as well as half of the rent once again.

You wish that you could lie and say that you could afford it by yourself but you simply couldn’t. It was just too far out of your spending limits and so… you needed to find a new place to live.

When Jisung suggested you come to live in his spare bedroom, it really didn’t seem like that bad of an idea. You knew the omega well enough; he wasn’t the cleanest in the world but he’s a step up from your old roommate for sure. Plus he was one of your closest friends. If anything, you knew you would feel comfortable around him. The only reason you had hesitated at first is because everybody always tells you not to live with your friends. Somehow you doubted this would be an issue with Jisung though.

It would be fine, right? You’ve heard only good things about his other roommate, Minho. Jisung jokingly refers to him as his platonic soulmate sometimes but you don’t really know anything else about him. You were a little weary about sharing a living space with two omegas and all, being an alpha yourself, but you were no asshole alpha. They would have nothing to worry about.

Once again, you should have never trusted Han Jisung.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

“What are you doing? You’re going to scare her away!” You hear through the door of the apartment. You’re a little unsure when you hear muffled shouting and you feel an uneasiness in your stomach that you ignore but you can’t help to continue to listen. “Why are you acting like you don’t want her here?”

“Because I don’t. We don’t know her!”

“You don’t know her. I know her perfectly well and you should trust my judgment.” You use this as the opportunity to knock on the door which swings open to a wide-eyed Jisung. He looks guilty of something and you’re confused before it hits you all at once.

The apartment reeks of cinnamon. Every crevice and corner is dripping of the strong smell to the point you can hardly smell Jisung’s vanilla, even if you really focus. That’s when you come to the realization that Jisung’s roommate isn’t an omega… He’s an alpha. One intentionally covering the whole apartment with his smell before he even gets to know you to assert his dominance. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes at the stereotypical alpha behavior and you resist the urge to cover your nose at the smell. Just because Minho is being rude doesn’t mean you need to be rude in return.

And before you can even say anything to greet him, he’s walking away and slamming his door shut. You give Jisung a look and he’s already looking at you apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” he winces. “I really am. He’s not usually like this, I swear. I don’t know what’s going on–”

“Jisung,” you interrupt. “You never told me he was an alpha in the first place!”

His mouth opens slightly in a small ‘o’ shape. “I didn’t?”

You sigh at him and take a deep breath. “Just help me with these boxes, okay?” And as if he’s eager to be back on your good side, he helps you without a fuss.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

It’s two entire days before you even see Minho again. It agitates your own alpha, really, knowing that there’s someone else in your living space you haven’t gotten a proper chance to meet and scope out. But you’ve finally gotten yourself settled into your space and you have to admit it’s nice being so close to Jisung all the time.

You stumble out of your room after an afternoon nap to find him cooking in the kitchen. It takes you by surprise, honestly, because for someone who has already tried to be so stereotypically alpha, it just seems like a very… omegan activity. You tell yourself it’s not polite to pass judgments on someone you hardly know, especially regarding their secondary gender, so you don’t say a word about it. You do, however, make an attempt to properly introduce yourself.

“Hello,” you say lightly. Minho’s shoulders tense up for a second before they relax. “I’m Y/N.” He doesn’t turn around and he doesn’t say anything. You make a face from behind him, where he can’t see you. What is his deal? You lean against the wall, trying to think of a way to make conversation. If this were anybody else, you wouldn’t bother but… you’re doing this for Jisung, after all. This is supposed to be one of his closest friends aside from you. “How long have you known Jisung for?” you try.

“Longer than you,” he scoffs. This catches you off guard as you’re not quite sure what to make of the statement. Is he trying to be possessive over the omega or is he just trying to show you that he’s winning whatever competition this is?

“Oh. How long would that be? I’ve only known him for two years or so, but we’ve grown really close–” Minho finally spins around and you make eye contact for the first time. His harsh gaze is the first thing you really notice about him, his feline eyes sharp as they stare daggers into you. He’s very pretty, you note, and it almost pisses you off even more. How can someone so attractive be such an asshole?

“You’re not my friend,” he says, pointing a wooden spoon at you threateningly. “This was my space first and you have no right to intrude and try to be buddy-buddy with me. I don’t know you.” His words are blunt, to the point. He turns back around and… god, he’s trying to assert dominance again by shutting you up and ending the conversation here! Better yet, his cinnamon scent spikes and swirls around the room, haunting you.

You won’t retaliate with your own scent. You’re better than that. But that doesn’t mean you’ll let some alpha think he’s better than you and shut you up without a fight. “Who’s fault is that?” you spit. Minho freezes so you continue. “Who’s fault is it that you don’t know me, hmm? I never asked to be your friend, Minho. But I’m not here to intrude and I’m not here to take over your territory and become the new head-alpha, okay? I’m here because Jisung invited me. I’m here because I need a place to live! Is it really so fucking bad to think that maybe you can be civil with me? Instead you’ve been defensive since the second I walked through that door!” Your anger is spiking and you need to get control of yourself before you explode on him. You turn around and slam your door shut before you can say anymore.

Once on your bed you fight the urge to punch something. You certainly let yourself get riled up fast. It annoys you that someone you don’t even know has this sort of effect on you. But you close your eyes and will the anger away, telling yourself that maybe, just maybe, it’ll get better.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

It doesn’t get better. It gets a whole lot worse, actually. Your first movie-night in with Jisung you actually get nauseous with how much he reeks of Minho.

“Jesus, Sung,” you tell him. “It smells like you rolled around with him right before you came into my room.”

“Sorry,” he says apologetically. It’s so hard to be mad at him. It really is. “He’s been extra clingy lately for some reason.”

“For some reason,” you grumble. You know exactly why. “He’s trying to intimidate me to stay away from you, probably.”

“What? Minho would never do that!” he says. You glare at him and he cowers down immediately. “I don’t know what’s going on with him,” he admits.

“I’m tired of him making me feel like I’m the crazy one here! Everyone I talk to shoots praises out of their ass for him and meanwhile, I’m public enemy number one. I seriously don’t know what his issue is with me and I’m getting sick and tired of everyone telling me what a great person he is!” you rant rather loudly, ending with a great sigh.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Jisung asks. You feel like you’re going to explode.

“Yes, I have,” you tell him. “Multiple times. Each one ends in an argument or one of us storming off. I just can’t figure out what his deal is.”

“Maybe–”

“Sung, let’s just watch the movie, okay? I’m starting to get irritated and you’re not the one I’m upset with.”

He concedes and snuggles in a bit closer to you, pressing play on the laptop. If you discreetly try to cover him in your own ginger scent? That’s between you and the moon goddess.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

You find yourself in the midst of some sort of war and you’re on the losing side. Lee Minho has made it his life mission to inconvenience or irritate you in any way he can.

Exhibit A: One morning you find yourself running late for class and you open your door just to trip over a conveniently placed pile of his shoes. Cursing his name in your head, you grab your backpack and run out the front door, just narrowly making it in time for the professor to start talking. Fast forward to the end of class when you pull out your folder just to realize that said folder is nowhere to be seen. Your homework which you spent over an hour on the previous night has vanished, gaining you a zero on the assignment. You’re sure you’re seeing red when you get home and your folder is on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t know what game you think we’re playing, but sabotaging my grades is going too fucking far, Lee!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says as he sips on a cup of coffee. You fight the urge to throw it in his face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t try to make me late for class and hide my folder!” you say, waving the folder in his face. He looks irritated but it’s no match for how you feel.

“Your belongings are not my responsibility,” he says with an eye roll. “Next time maybe don’t misplace your stuff.” You leave because you’re not confident in your ability not to punch him.

Exhibit B: Poor Jisung has tried to set up an apartment movie night. It’s a good idea, in theory, to try to get some supervised bonding. Jisung even sits right in the middle, anxiously picking at his nails the entire movie. That’s only after Minho accuses you of burning the popcorn and fighting with you over which movie to watch. Jisung ends up picking it. It was going well until he stretched his legs out over Jisung’s lap and into your space. You shove his feet off of you faster than he put them up. The action makes him almost fall off the couch and spill his soda all over himself and Jisung.

The omega stands up covered in soda and huffs. “I give up!” he cries out in exasperation.

“It’s her fault for pushing me–”

“Give it a fucking rest!” you cry out.

Everybody ends up in their respective rooms that night.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

You didn’t want to go to this party. You really didn’t but you figured that you owe Jisung big time for turning his apartment into a warzone. The omega already has social anxiety and doesn’t love parties himself so you promised you would tag along.

Minho is here too. You tell yourself you won’t interact with him but you keep catching his eyes from across the room. Deep down you hope that maybe the alcohol will mellow him down a bit and make him more tolerable. And maybe you use alcohol as a coping mechanism this one night. You’re stressed and a walking ball of tension every second of each day, not even able to relax in your own apartment.

You always have an eye on Jisung when you party together. But you indulge in some tipsy flirting for once. This guy is super cute, after all… freckled face, long blond hair that frames his face, and a deep, sensual voice that makes you giggle and fawn over him. You amp up the usual techniques, touching his arm and laughing at all of his jokes. And when he leans in close enough that you feel his breath on your neck you don’t stop him.

But somebody else does.

One second you're bracing yourself for a drunken kiss and the next a hand is wrapped tightly around your arm, pulling you away. You smell burnt cinnamon before you even realize what happened and the anger that bubbles in your chest is unlike any you’ve ever felt before. You retaliate just as fast with an overwhelming mix of ginger that smells so strong it burns your nose. Before you can yell you’re being pushed out the door and into the cold of the night.

“What the fuck was that,” you spit at Minho. You yank your arm out of his grip.

“We’re leaving,” he tells you.

“Like hell we are! You don’t get a say of who I spend my time with or when I decide to leave.”

“I get a say when you’re making idiotic choices,” he answers, voice low. He spins you around until you’re pinned against the wall and his skin burns hot against yours.

“No, you don’t. You’ve made yourself loud and clear that you don’t give a fuck about me. My bad choices are mine to make, Minho, not yours.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” he tells you once he finally lets go. He looks like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. “Felix… he’s… I know him from my dance studio, okay? Just.. trust me and don’t go home with him. You can’t kiss him. Not Felix.”

“From your dance studio? Wow, ladies and gentlemen! Lee Minho has revealed exactly one thing about himself! He’s a dancer!” you say with mock surprise. You stumble a bit and Minho steadies you by your waist. It only serves to piss you off even more.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” he asks. It’s probably the softest you’ve ever heard his voice yet.

“No. I think I’m going to go kiss Felix and you can go fuck off,” you protest. You cross your arms and you look away from him because his cheeks are also flushed from drinking and he worries his lips between his teeth so you can’t stand to see it.

He takes a deep breath. “Y/N, I swear to god you’re going to walk home with me or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and bring you home myself.”

Before you snap back at him about how ridiculous he’s being, the door opens and Jisung steps out. “Guys?” he questions, looking back and forth between the two of you. You’re breathing heavily and your fists are clenched but your anger dissipates the second you see the disappointed look on Jisung’s face. He wanted you here to keep him company. To soothe his social anxiety and to prove that you could be there for him, to show up for him like old time’s sake. And just like that, the adrenaline high slowly fades when you realize you’ve let him down. Anger turns to sorrow and guilt and god, no you won’t let Minho see you cry but you bury your face into Jisung’s neck. You whisper an apology and tell him you want to go home.

You can’t help but feel like Minho has won this round, in some roundabout twisted way.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

You avoid leaving your room for the next day. You don’t really feel like you’re deserving of wallowing in your own sorrow, especially since the one who is impacted here is Jisung, not you. You’ve let him down. You don’t get to mope. So… what you’re doing is avoiding. Avoiding Minho and therefore avoiding any more conflict.

It’s the next day you leave your room. You notice the scent of vanilla a little more sweet than normal and when you knock on Jisung’s door you notice he’s nesting. A mixture of your clothes and Minho’s are piled in his bed and you feel a pang of guilt in your chest.

“You okay?” you ask. If Jisung is in preheat and you’ve avoided him for the past 24 hours, he’s probably feeling pretty antsy. He does let out a breath of relief when he sees you though and brings you in for a hug.

But of course your timing is unfortunate because Minho unlocks the front door at that very moment. When he sees you in Jisung’s arms he growls, causing you and the omega to stiffen. Minho crosses the room in seconds and the smell of cinnamon behind you gets stronger.

“Off,” he says low into your ear. You have half the mind to snap at him but Jisung’s vanilla scent burns. You back off, giving Jisung a small nod before disappearing to your room. The last thing you want to do is distress Jisung further just before he starts his heat. This needs to stop. It needs to end.

Jisung leaves the next day to spend his heat in a hotel. Despite the apartment being more comfortable for him, the unit isn’t equipped to deal with the overwhelming scent of heats and ruts. You couldn’t afford a scent complaint fee. Jisung doesn’t complain as you help him pack his bags and you even help him into the hotel room. You offer your best support in helping him rebuild his nest though you don’t have the same omegan instincts as he does.

“I’m sorry again,” you tell him before you leave. “For everything. With Minho. It’s… we’ll work it out. Okay? Love you Sung.”

He gives you a sad smile. His heat should start by the morning, you would guess. You just hope he can be comfortable and not worry too much about you and Minho.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

Minho is standing anxiously by the door when you get home. You half expect him to crowd you against the wall but he doesn’t, eyes glued to the floor instead.

“You smell like him,” he tells you.

“Yes Minho,” you reply sarcastically. “It’s like I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time. Jisung is my friend too. You don’t have to act all possessive of him all the time.”

He hums. You feel your blood boil again. How does he get you so worked up to the point of your heart pumping a mile a minute every time you see him?

“Minho. Be honest,” you start. He finally looks up at you. You can’t read his face. Your alpha goes back and forth between wanting to pounce on him and run away in fear. You need to do what you think is right. “Do you want me to move out?”

You aren’t expecting his reaction. You expect him to laugh in your face. You expect him to be overjoyed. But instead he seems shocked.

“What?”

“What do you mean what? Don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted from the very beginning. You win, okay? I concede. You want your space? You want to be the only alpha again? This is it. This is your opportunity. I’m offering you a way out now. No more fighting. No more upsetting Jisung. If you want me gone, just say the word. Please. I’ll leave.”

“Don’t.”

“What?” You almost think you’ve misheard him but he takes a step closer and he looks at you with pleading eyes. “What is your gameplan then? Why make me miserable since the second I move in? Argue with me, tell me who I can and can’t kiss, for god’s sake make me fail a fucking assignment? If you don’t want me fucking gone, Minho, what the fuck do you want–”

You’re cut off by his lips clashing against yours so hard your head would have hit your head against the wall if not for Minho’s hands holding you as if you’re something precious. Your teeth clank together but you’re breathing him in and reciprocating his affection just as violently as he gives it. When his tongue enters your mouth and you taste cinnamon you realize you’ve never hated the smell, never hated him… He kisses into you like he needs you to breathe, like he’s been in the desert and you’re his oasis.

You’re not sure that a kiss has ever felt like this before. You think for a moment that you might not be able to kiss anyone again after this, everyone and everything lacklustre compared to Minho. Minho. Minho. Nobody has ever and will ever make you feel this burning, boiling… hatred? lust? desire? Whatever it is you feel, you’re not sure it could be replicated.

When you wrap your leg around his waist he grabs under your knee, hoisting you against the wall. His mouth is all over you and he explores every inch of your mouth, your neck, your collarbone. Your hands take purchase on his shoulders, in his hair, you’re not sure but you want to feel every inch of him there is to explore. Cinnamon has never smelled so sweet.

Minho brings you into his bedroom and it’s the first time you’ve stepped foot into his space but you don’t take the time to look around. In fact, the only thing you notice is that his comforter is soft, soft against your back as he throws you onto his bed. Your clothes are all but shredded from your body and if you had claws you would have used them to get every inch of useless fabric off of Lee Minho’s body. It makes you angry that he’s still clothed, so angry that you forgo pleasure in replacement of ripping the clothes off of him harshly. He grins. He has that smug fucking grin on his face you want to wipe off and you kiss his stupid lips again. This time when you kiss you’re both completely naked and every part of your body that touches his is scalding.

When you sit on his lap your bare pussy slides along his cock and you both groan. His hands are on your hips and in desperation you both move back and forth. Every time his cock catches on your entrance you both let out a hitched breath but neither of you can stop.

“Fuck. I’m gonna knot you, you know that? I’m gonna fuck you so full and then knot you so that everybody knows you’re mine,” he pants as he ruts his cock against you desperately. Is this just another way for him to stake his claim over you? To show that he’s the true alpha? Oh hell no.

“You’re such an asshole,” you tell him with a hiss when he finally slides into you. He’s big. You already knew this from the (not so) dry humping just moments ago but it still pisses you off when he stretches you nice and full. “Stupid asshole alpha with a stupid big cock.”

When he looks up at you it’s with adoration and it throws you off. His eyes gleam and his teeth are caught against his bottom lip in a sultry grin. He plants his feet against his bed and thrusts up into you hard and fast–you almost fall because you have no time to plant your hands anywhere for balance. But the almighty perfect Minho catches you before you fall because of course he does. His hands on your waist only hold you in place to give him the opportunity to fuck up into you with more force and the wet sounds that come from between your bodies are filthy… but only serves to turn you on even more.

“You were saying about me being an asshole?” he asks. His voice is breathy and low and you fucking hate how much you love it.

“If all you wanted was to fuck me this bad you didn’t have to act like such a dick,” you say through tight lips. Okay. You’re trying not to moan, to give him that satisfaction. Who could blame you? “You only made me hate you more.”

“Fuck,” he says, throwing his head back. “It wasn’t on purpose… didn’t like you at first but all of a sudden it turned to lust and… can’t you feel what you do to me?” He punctuates his point with a harsh thrust and fuck, you vaguely remember him mentioning he was a dancer. Perfect body, perfect hips and thighs made just to fuck you like this.

“How you treated me wasn’t fair,” you tell him. You need him to know and you’re lowering your hips, trapping your legs under his so he can’t bounce you up and down on his cock anymore. Your hand snakes up to his throat and takes purchase there, watching the way he gulps and his eyes turn heavy at the action. You feel a burning satisfaction at the way his hips buck into you involuntarily when you squeeze slightly. “Say it,” you coo. “I want to hear you admit to me that you know you treated me poorly.”

You expect a fight from him because, let’s be honest, Minho always puts up a fight with you. But any ounce of opposition leaves his body the second his eyes meet yours. He looks regretful. He looks small. “I treated you poorly,” he tells you. His eyes never leave yours. “I acted like a child because I had feelings for you that were misplaced. I liked you from the beginning and I… fuck, I didn’t know how to deal with that and I pushed you away. I wanted you to hate me.”

The confession that spills past his lips is the last thing you’re expecting him to say. Your grip on his neck falters and he uses his stupidly impressive core strength to sit up, bringing your lips into a kiss. It isn’t explosive, it isn’t word-changing, but it is sweet and apologetic and very Minho.

He places you on your back and resumes his pace, bringing your legs up to rest on his shoulders. At this angle he reaches deep inside you and the first time you gasp he resumes his brutal, relentless pace.

“Fuck, I’m gonna knot you, please let me knot this pretty pussy,” he pleads. The first time he said it it was a demand; this time he asks from his soul, baring it to you and giving you ample time and opportunity to reject it.

“Yes,” you moan. But if he’s going to claim you as his from the inside out, the least you could do is return the favor. And so you scratch Minho, raking your nails down his back until they’re sure to leave a mark. And when you’re both on the precipice you bite down onto his shoulder hard, just inches away from his scent gland. It’s not a mating bite but it is a mark, a claim. You suck hard into the bite just as he finishes, his knot expanding and catching on your entrance. You don’t release your mouth from his skin until he’s done pulsing inside you but to your surprise, he doesn’t stop moving his hips. Despite his knot locking you in place he grinds his hips into yours in small circles, putting pressure right onto your clit with his pubic bone. It’s too much, the stimulation of your clit, his knot, and the thick head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside you causing you to cum around him hard with a cry.

You feel as if you’ve been electrocuted, little shocks going through your whole body with every wave of your orgasm. You almost wish he was bad in bed, if just to keep your dignity and tell him that he wasn’t all that. But with the gutteral noises he dispelled from your body, lying would just be a farce.

When you’ve both finally calmed down and his knot finally deflates, you half expect him to kick you out of his room. You’ve built up your walls so high around him that it’s hard to imagine him treating you any other way. You’re anxious for sure, moreso at yourself for allowing yourself to be so hopeful. But Minho rolls over and grabs you, holding you close to his chest. Even when you squirm he doesn’t dare to let you go.

“I really am sorry,” he tells you. A murmur into your hair. “I don’t want you to move out. I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. My alpha thought… that because we like you that maybe asserting our dominance would make you like us more. I know that’s illogical and just sounds like an excuse but…”

“I forgive you,” you tell him. “Well… maybe I don’t forgive you just yet. But I can if you prove to me that you’re done with the macho asshole alpha act. No more being possessive over Jisung. My friend by the way! Still haven’t gotten over that. And no more sabotaging my grades.” You shoot him a glare and he only looks at you sheepishly. Harsh looks turn into soft stares and all of a sudden he’s kissing you again. Your tension has already begun to melt away. You begin to see the charm of the Lee Minho everybody has told you about and you think, maybe… just maybe everything will be okay now.

“I think we owe Jisung a gift,” Minho whispers into your hair.

“I think we owe him a hundred gifts,” you wince.

“He’s not going to believe his fucking mind when he gets back.” You laugh so hard your stomach begins to hurt. You think maybe you like the way Minho looks when he smiles. You think maybe you really like the way cinnamon and ginger smell together. You think maybe you could get used to kissing Minho and that burning, bubbly feeling in your stomach agrees.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

#skz #stray kids #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x you #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee know x you #lee know smut #kpop smut #kpop x reader #lee know #minho x reader #skz minho #stray kids minho #ask

228 notes · View notes

bitchlessdino · 22 hours ago

Text

Good Roommates Don't (m)

for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid collab i recieved you @haologram!

Pairing: roommate! Minghao x barista!afab!reader Word count: 14.1k rating: R Summary: Xu Minghao had been the most ethereal being you've ever laid your eyes on to the point being unable of functioning like a normal person, but now you're roommates. Only time will tell when you lose your mind keeping your hands to yourself, so there needed to be a list of things you don't do if you wanted to be a good roommate. tags: meet-ugly, strangers to roommates to lovers, college au, barista au, down bad!reader, mentions of band, brief bdsm, mc fell first he fell harder, cum swapping, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), face riding, unprotected sex author note: thank you @lovetaroandtaemin and @gyubakeries beta-reading this with me. after writing towtsyfdtotbycf (holy shit) i was in a little bit of a slump and had several and i mean SEVERAL versions of this and for months racked my brain how i wanted to do this. Alta, i care for you deeply and we've gotten close in the last year or so, so i really wanted to write something that would amuse you and that you'd enjoy. and if you hate it you can use it as leverage to berate me on discord lol. but please, my valentine, enjoy my gift to you. happy Valentines day Alta (and tell me was i really not that slick) <3

When you first met Minghao, you almost killed him trying to save his life. At least, that's what you thought you were doing.

All you had to do was bear a normal shift at the Coffee Shop, attempt a semblance of a smile for the oncoming customers, and clock out at your normal hour, but the universe couldn’t even give you that. Instead, they sent you the hottest guy imaginable, along with the swiftness of a gazelle, the strength of a gorilla, and the intuition of a garden gnome. That day just confirmed that some things were better left alone.

A few things were already going wrong that day. For one, your alarm didn't go off. The alarm being your mom, who usually kicked you out of bed first thing at 9 am, since she had a doctor’s appointment. Fair enough. The strings of fate got you there. All the more reason why moving out seemed like a distant dream rather than a close reality. Were you really capable of being a functioning adult?

Then there was the bus and having to shell out twenty bucks for a Lyft when the next scheduled bus was reported to have broken down and was no longer an option. That twenty bucks could’ve been your meal for the next week, but no, being fiscally responsible was a circus act, and you were the clown being pied in the face repeatedly. As if you weren’t already putting on a face and juggling multiple things enough on a daily basis, today was no different.

And then, you were late to work—which again, was nothing new—but you were hoping that Nayeon, who was scheduled as the shift manager, she’d let you off with a warning. Yet, somehow, that went wrong as well, seeing that the shittier manager on your shift, Manager Fi, was present instead. And, by the look in the old man's eyes, he wasn’t happy about it either, especially considering he assigned you bathroom duty for the end of your shift to make up for your tardiness. He never liked you since you started. Then again, he didn’t like anybody, and vice versa.

This morning was bad omen after bad omen.

Leading up to finally meeting Minghao—tall, scorchingly hot Minghao, , with lips that looked soft as clouds. You hadn’t seen him around before until today, and perhaps it should’ve stayed that way, because you couldn’t see yourself facing him ever again.

He walked in with his large group of friends, all almost nearly as charming as him with a handful of faces that you’ve seen once or twice, but none that stood quite out like his. He had the kind of face that made you want to paint murals, write ballads, or stare long enough to linger too long over the same spot you were cleaning on the counter, windshield wiping until the wet streaks you wiped off devolved to discoloration and damaged the countertop’s cheap sealant. Eventually, you averted your gaze to conceal your flushed cheeks—turning away in clear embarrassment, thinking about how much of a fucking creep you probably looked overtly gawking at him—but you’d soon realized that was the least of your worries. You’d soon wish it ended with you looking like a creep.

The next moment you lifted your eyes towards him again, you found him in a compromising position, one that had you thinking—and that was your first mistake. His face twisted with discomfort, and he gasped as he covered his mouth. A million thoughts raced through your mind, considering all the possible reasons for his distress, and one screamed the loudest above all, setting off alarm bells. So you—being meddling and troublesome you—acted on instinct.

Hopping over the counter, you raced towards him, pulled him off the booth which he was luckily on the edge of, and immediately attempted the Heimlich. Finally, your CPR certification could be put to use. You embraced him from behind, putting pressure on his ribcage as you launched and thrust yourself against him, forcing whatever was lodged in his throat out of his body.

“I’ve got you!” you exclaimed heroically.

You put in as much strength as you could muster, truly hoping to save a life today, thinking out of all things that have gone wrong today, at least this would be one thing you’ve done right. You could feel your ancestors looking down on you to witness a proud moment in your otherwise boring and mundane life.

After several rough collisions with his body, he eventually spat something chewed up and unsightly onto the booth’s table, drawing the attention of several onlookers if your boisterous shouting hadn’t already. His friends were quick to look away, wincing in disgust while the cute boy doubled over in pain, holding himself by the ribs as you ran your eyes over at him in concern.

“Are you alright, sir? That must’ve been terrifying to suffocate on something so suddenly.”

He then finally lifted his head. His cheeks were flushed as anguish took over his features. “I wasn’t choking,” He rasped.

“...Come again?”

“Oh my god!” A third-party witness stood up dramatically from their seat. “This barista just saved this young man’s life!”

Suddenly, you were punished with attention, cheers specifically. All except the people who sat at the cute boy’s table clapped for you—or, rather at you now—and gave you standing ovations for your grand heroic act, when in fact, it wasn’t heroic at all. Meanwhile, you attempted to settle them down, flapping your hands dismissively and growing hot all over. You looked over the man you so-called saved as he strained to sit back in his seat, being tended by the friends he came with.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Shit, that looked like it hurt.”

“You probably shouldn't have been drinking it that fast, Minghao.”

It turned out you had severely miscalculated the situation. What appeared to be choking, prompting you to improperly administer a rough but appropriate Heimlich maneuver, was simply a mildly exaggerated reaction to hot coffee followed by a muffin to alleviate his burnt taste buds. You, of course, profusely apologized, as if you weren’t embarrassed enough for staring at him the whole time working your entire shift at the coffee shop because he was the most breathtakingly stunning person you’ve ever seen in your life. You might’ve just about broken his ribs and made his life flash before his eyes by abruptly slamming your body against him repeatedly, and not in the fun way.

Rather than an apartment, you were in desperate need of a hole deep enough to lead you to the core of the Earth to hide you from everyone else on the crust, ideally with cheap rent and good air ventilation.

You bowed your head in humiliation, unable to meet any of their eyes, especially with the possibility of them remembering your face with a lawsuit waiting to happen. “I can’t believe that happened, I am so sorry. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know.”

“It’s okay, really, but I think we’ve had enough excitement for today if you don’t mind.”

The attractive stranger—or Minghao, as you’ve learned from his friends who immediately rushed to him in concern—shook his hand in the air reassuringly. “Just, no more of that, alright? Make sure someone’s actually choking before trying to save them.”

“Right, please have a wonderful rest of your day,” you said, before returning to your station and disappearing behind the breakroom, screaming into your cubby and avoiding human interaction for as long as you could.

That scene replayed in your mind over and over like a recurring nightmare, burning the image of his beautiful face with such disdain for all eternity, while his name etched into your brain in permanent ink, embedded in every wrinkle in your brain. Minghao. A devastatingly beautiful name for a devastatingly beautiful owner.

Ugh. Get a fucking grip.

You just needed to get through the rest of the day. It would just be a couple more hours until your shift ended, and then you��d leave on the dot. It’d be just in time to make your appointment to meet your new potential roommate. Hopefully, it would be the silver lining of today’s catastrophic mess.

You met on electronic class forums while attending the same Cultural Studies course and somehow ended up relying on each other for notes. By your chat history, you seemed to have a lot in common—with the exception of his preference for tea over artisanal coffee—and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t get giddy seeing the green circle next to his username. Recently, he had just talked about moving into town after pondering the idea for so long, and as fate may have it, you’ve been looking for your own place to stay. You figured he seemed nice enough, and he even offered a reasonable quote on rent. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look. You just hoped he was as friendly in real life as he was online—with the day you had, you needed a win.

And, that win started with Chinese food, his choice, and it was a good one. You hadn’t been at this location before, taking note of the old-fashioned aesthetic touched by the harshness of modern neon signs that lit even the darkest of hallways. You were now thinking you ought to come more often as the heavenly notes of soy, ginger, and whatever concoction bled through the kitchen curtains and wafted through your nostrils the moment you passed through the double doors. Immediately, you were greeted by the host, visibly tired and overworked, with dark circles under his eyes, before he led you to a table in the center of the restaurant. You settled your nerves with a glass of water, trying to let the horrific events from today fade to as black as the soy sauce loitering on your table, waiting for a plate of dumplings to accompany them.

Funny how you could still have an appetite after everything that happened.

It wasn’t too long after you heard the same doors you walked through open, setting off the familiar sound of its wind chimes. You peered behind you, catching a glimpse of the new arrival, and immediately spun back in your seat, startled by the face that passed through your eyes. Trepidation brewed within you as the unsolicited visitor had your stomach in knots.

You couldn’t take another incident tonight.

You slunk into your seat, burying your chin in your shirt, hoping you’d somehow camouflage into your seat, facing away from the new arrival. Meanwhile, his eyes skimmed the room, walking in with purpose without guidance and greeting the employees as if he were right at home. Fortunately, he had yet to notice your presence as you slinked out of view the moment he passed by you to sit at the bar, while you made way into a booth in the dark corner of the restaurant, cursing the fates for their cruel games once again. You just had hoped that your new roommate would hurry it up already so you could get out of here before you were discovered.

And after about ten minutes, it felt as if all hope was lost. There was no sign of them and you were wondering if you had been stood up. Amid your anticipation, you were forced to pay attention to the person you were avoiding, seeing his patience wear thin with the tap of his foot as he sipped the last of his iced tea. Not a moment too soon, you saw him pluck his phone out from his pocket, fingers skittering over the screen before bringing it to his ear and scanning the restaurant’s floor plan. In the same instant, your phone went off, blaring your cursed ringtone, ‘Pocketful of Sunshine’, and the realization—along with the panic—quickly set in.

Alerted by the noise, his head whipped up from his screen. His eyebrows rose in shock, not all expecting the outcome that arose, and he dropped to his feet and quickly darted toward the sound that you—for the life of you—could not turn off fast enough. His footsteps matched the rate of your heart pounding in your chest, growing louder and closer until he found the source and located you cowering in the corner.

You lifted your head to lock eyes for the first time since this morning just as you finally managed to silence the ringtone and gave him an awkward laugh, waving with your phone in hand. Taking a nervous gulp, you awaited his disappointment, expecting him to make his quick exit after evaluating in the two seconds of your meeting that this arrangement would not work out because you were a deranged psycho with a savior complex. To your pleasant surprise, that didn't happen. Instead, you were met with a gentle smile and a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “There you are.”

You forced a sheepish chuckle. “Here I am, ha.”

Minghao softly chuckled before tucking his phone in his back pocket. “And to think just this morning you ‘saved my life.’”

You shut your eyes tightly, hands pressing together as if begging for forgiveness. “Again I am so, so sorry for that. It did look like you were choking.”

He shook his head reassuringly. “So you’ve said. I’m Minghao, or PalE8. Nice to meet you, CafeMixr0.”

“Is it…nice to meet me?” You asked dubiously.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

You blinked incredulously. “Well, for several reasons.”

He shrugged before entering the booth and leaving a healthy distance to sit just across from you. “Can’t think of any. Have you ordered anything yet?”

You shook your head, befuddled by his nonchalance, waiting to see the catch, if there was any.

“Good thing I know everything worth ordering.” His hand shot up before grabbing the attention of a server to get his order taken.

You weren't sure where the night was going. All you knew was the boy that you almost killed this morning was sitting across from you looking as breathtaking as he did this morning, even while slurping up his stir fry that was glossed with a sheen of chilli oil and swelling up his already full lips. Rather than a roommate meetup—if that was still the case—it felt like a date, a date you were exceedingly ill-prepared for.

Suddenly, you could feel the sweat on the back of your knees, feeling the strong urge to sniff the clothes on your back, unsure when the last time you did a fresh load of laundry and if your current attire was included in that load at all. Not to mention that bathroom duty that was forced upon you, which no doubt seeped into your clothes. You were better off naked, but then that would be an entire different kind of meeting, wouldn”t it?

“You’re okay, right?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from your spiraling thoughts as you barely finished your portion of chow mein—which was absolutely heavenly, to put it lightly.

He let out a light chuckle before kindly reassuring you. “How many times are you going to ask me? You and everyone from this morning. I’m fine, able-bodied and everything.”

“I just felt really bad. You looked really hurt.”

He couldn’t suppress his grin, finding your cautiousness amusing, but it only added to your unease. “I was hurt. You’re really, really strong.”

You winced. “Again. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s a quality of a good roommate.” He finished the last bit of his meal before dropping a couple of bills without asking for the tab. “Come on. I’ve got to show you the apartment.”

You raised an eyebrow while sipping your warm tea before tapping your mouth with a napkin. “You still want to room with me? After this morning?”

“There’s not a lot of good options for roommates in the city, and what are the odds that you’ll try to kill me twice?”

He had a fair point, and it wasn’t like you had options lining up either. You just had to hope he didn’t regret taking this chance on you.

A big reason why you wanted to move out was to learn to be on your own, but in addition to that, the city had pretty much everything to offer. The city had it all, from job opportunities to the right people to meet, and the apartment Minghao led you to was the center of the entirety of it. High above the town square, in a room several floors up, there was a nook that had a view through a large window overlooking everything within about a two-mile radius. If there was anything nice to say about the city, it definitely looked better from where you were standing. The street lights illuminated streets, neon signs brought the local businesses to life, and people that ran the night life lived it to the fullest in the flashiest clothes imaginable. You had never seen your city like this before.

Meanwhile, the apartment itself was gorgeous and already fully furnished with stylish furniture and greenery that touched the kitchen and living room. It was graced with Minghao’s taste in art and an eccentric—but tasteful—color palette of warm browns, olive greens, and rustic oranges. It felt like walking into Minghao’s mind, seeing into his world, and you were given the opportunity of it being yours, being part of his world. He was generous enough to even let you pass through the front door.

“So?” he asked, gauging your interest, watching as you looked down at the city from the large window nook in awe.

You softly scoffed, unable to take your eyes off the beautiful view calling to you like a siren at sea. “Um, I’m sorry, you had trouble finding a roommate, how?”

He crossed his arms, admiring the sight with you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision and grinning when he saw the childlike sparkle in your eyes. “I’m new to the city, and everyone I know here has their own living arrangements. I didn’t want to go too far in looking for a new roommate. I thought we'd work well together, since we’re based in the same city now and have a lot in common based on our conversations.”

“I almost killed you this morning,” You’ve pointed out to…death.

“Although you’re…impulsive and unpredictable, I’ve seen worse. I think I’ll manage.” He splayed his hand in front of you, gesturing for a shake to officially seal the deal. “What do you say? Do you still want to be roommates?”

Everything about this screamed it was a bad idea. Putting aside the fact that you nearly killed the man, you could barely stand in the presence of him without your mind drifting to dark waters. It didn’t take rocket science to understand that putting you in that same living quarters with Minghao meant you might have to live every day together with your hands tied behind your back and thighs taped shut. You’ve surprised yourself with how you’ve managed to keep your composure sharing the same air—the air you were even thinking of savoring as you contemplated this offer.

You were down-righteously-bad. You weren’t a fit roommate for Minghao in the slightest.

Yet, you took his hand, letting his cool palm clash with your warmth as his digits wrapped around you in a tight squeeze before shaking. “Let’s do it.”

And that marked the start of a new chapter of your life, unraveling the challenge of being Xu Minghao’s roommate. Only, he wasn’t the challenge. He was a breath of fresh autumn air. He was kind beyond words and accommodating in every step of your move. You were already familiar with his gentle and patient nature, as he had frequently taken the time to clarify complex ideas for class, and you’ve learned about the majority of his interests prior from your online discussions, but seeing PalE8’s traits in person—embodied in Minghao—was bizarre. You realized he was still a stranger after all. A stranger that claimed your breath with a single bat of his eyes and turned your stomach inside out worse than a bad case of food poisoning, no less.

Meanwhile, the neighbors knew him by name, were endeared by his presence, and found him to be a delightful conversationalist as well as a helping hand when the situation called for it. He was better than your friendly neighborhood spiderman. He was your kind, considerate, intricately woven, beautifully complex, and knees-bucklingly handsome Minghao.

You weren’t usually a sexual deviant, at least not to this extent, but Minghao brought something out of you that you hadn’t felt for another person. However, if you were going to live together, that had to change. This crush was going to have to dwindle out of existence if you wanted to live together—emphasis on you—in peace.

So, that’s when you decided to make a list of rules that only you had to follow. Sure, you were an adult, and the thought of giving yourself rules to keep your hands to yourself was juvenile and stupid, but for the sake of your sanity, you were looking for anything that might work. That’s when you decided to make a list of things “good roommates don’t do”, thinking it would be shorter and easier to sum up than a long redundant list of things good roommates would do, and the first thing to top the list was easy.

Good roommates don’t almost kill each other (again).

That seemed easy enough to remember, considering the first time was traumatic enough, and fortunately, it didn’t take too much effort, considering you hardly saw each other despite living together.

You ended up taking up more shifts at work, desperate enough to even join the catering team, to keep yourself busy and afford the new expense of rent, sacrificing a lot more of your free time. Meanwhile, Minghao’s work schedule was not only demanding, it was inconsistent. Working at a popular art gallery as an artist and attendant with frequent and erratic events to go to until late at night prompted your roommate to be seen home a lot less than expected. By the time either of you got home, there wouldn’t be so much of a hello or goodbye either, just the sounds of bodies falling on beds in either rooms as the day’s fatigue engulfed you until you succumbed to sleep.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little disappointed by these circumstances, but then again, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Seeing him as little as you did meant less opportunity for you to screw things up around him, because it seemed to happen quite frequently when he was around. The few times you did cross paths, you still found ways to humiliate yourself.

“That’s mine.”

You held the toothbrush mid-scrub, bubbles foaming at the corners of your mouth, “Eh?”

“I think you’re using my toothbrush.”

Your cheeks immediately grew warm, and you shielded your face with the back of your hand. You spat into the sink and splashed water on your face to rid yourself of toothpaste residue before turning back to respond, his words jumbling in your head and bouncing from corner to corner to process them. “I-I don’t think so, this is the one I always use.”

He snickered, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms, delectably dressed down in a gray tank top and sweatpants. The tempting taste of domesticity was sweet and permeated your tastebuds. “If that’s the case, we’ve been sharing, because I’ve always kept my brush there in the marble cup. Yours should be behind the medicine cabinet where you first left it.”

“What? You sure?” you pinned the used toothbrush on the sink’s porcelain before cracking open the medicine cabinet. “I’m pretty sure I took it—Ah!”

Startled by your findings, you dropped the toothbrush you gripped in your hand onto the floor when you’ve proven Minghao right as his toothbrush fell to the ground, now defiled with your oral bacteria and whatever was on the floor. The one day you take a shift later than usual because a member begged to take on more shifts, it blew up in your face. Seokmin, you will rue the day. “I-I’ll clean it!” You offered in a panicked tone.

He pushed himself off the threshold, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t, please. It’s dirty; I can just replace it.”

Filled with guilt, you stepped aside to watch him pick up the dirty brush before disposing of it in the waste bin, “Sorry.”

“You say that a lot.”

He pulled a fresh toothbrush out of a drawer and ripped it out of its packaging. It was notably identical to his previous and your current abandoned toothbrush, down to the bristles. “No worries. See,” he turned the new hygiene tool for inspection, “Clean.”

“Regret having me as a roommate yet?” you joked anxiously towards his reflection in the mirror.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing I can’t manage. I lived in a boarding house full of guys that shared things without asking and it didn’t stop at toothbrushes. You’re the first roommate I’ve had that’s apologized. I say that’s an upgrade.”

He went on to brush his teeth with his newly obtained brush, christening the bristles with a squeeze of fluoride toothpaste before scrubbing against his pearly whites. He never ceased to amaze you with his aloof attitude towards the situation, as if he’d become accustomed to your chaos when he didn’t need to be at all. This situation, however, did indicate that you had another thing to be added to the list.

Good roommates don’t use each other’s toothbrush (even by accident)

In your room just before you left for work, you haphazardly added to the list you put on a crumpled piece of paper you kept in your wallet, ensuring you held your list close before setting the pen aside. Your heart pounded against your chest, thinking what that had meant all this time. How you’ve pretty much swapped saliva nearly every day with Minghao since moving in. The fact that it had gone on for so long repulsed you, but not anymore than the tiny part of yourself that maybe had always known and continued to do it.

You held your digits to your lips, brushing the pads against the slit of your mouth, ragged breaths slowly leaving your lungs as you reached your enamel. Tension pooled in your stomach as the images that infiltrated your dreams were currently being conjured in your consciousness, while arousal chased down your legs as you clenched them together. Jolted back to reality, you wound your eyes shut, remembering how little he cared about the matter, how nonchalant he was when he found out. Meanwhile, here you were: perverse, losing your mind, and letting your imagination run wild like a hormonal teenager with her celebrity crush.

Fuck. You needed a night out. You had been cooped up in the apartment for too goddamn long. The only other place you went was work, and knowing labor laws, they had to give you a night or two off for all the time you’d been putting in. There was a whole outside world, and you needed to buck up and take advantage of it. You had to do something other than fawn over your very hot roommate. Losing some spare change was worth the sanity. At least, you hoped it was.

“You going out tonight?”

Hearing a familiar tenor voice, your head lifted up from fixing the strap of your shoes to see him remove his coat and store it away in the front entrance closet. “Oh, you’re home,” you stated.

“Yeah. The gallery is closed tonight for a bigger show this weekend, so I have a couple days where I’m off earlier than usual.”

More time for Minghao to be at home. Great.

You nodded, keeping your cool at the sight of his turtleneck hugging his lean and toned frame, making your heart work overtime in place of you this evening. “I see, but yeah. A couple of my friends and I are trying out that new place that just opened up in midtown.”

“Oh, let me know how that goes. Me and some friends had plans to go there too.”

“Okay.” You hurried your way to the door. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wait.”

Hand on the door knob, you cursed under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut as if bracing for impact before opening them, and turned around with an innocuous expression. “Yes?”

He held out his hand. “Your phone please.”

“Hmm? Why,” you asked, unlocking it before complying.

He smiled accepting it, before swiping his fingers off the screen. “I’m sending myself your location.”

And there your heart when pitter-patter again at thoughtful and kind hot as fuck Minghao. “I just told you where I’d be.”

“That could always change. Here,” he said, handing your phone back, beaming back at you warmly. “Just in case something happens, and you can always call me if you feel unsafe, okay?”

You gave a soft pout, cheeks growing warm at the thought of Minghao’s concern over you. It pleased you more than it should’ve. “Thanks. What are you gonna do tonight?”

He shrugged, taking a quick glance over his shoulder. “Maybe do some light reading and tea, paint if inspiration hits me.”

You gave a small grin, thinking just how Minghao those activities sound. “Sounds enlightening. Okay. I’ll be home soon.”

“Be safe.”

Even long after you’d left, you kept thinking about that interaction. How domestic it felt, how safe it made you feel, how seen you really were. It made you wonder if he was tracking you right now, looking at his phone, staring at the dot indicating where you were located. You wondered if he was thinking about you right now, because you were most certainly thinking about him.

Your mission of trying to forget Minghao by going out definitely was not working, but you took that as a sign to keep drinking. Your friends didn’t get to see you often with how much you worked, so they were just happy to see you were having a good time, not knowing you were trying to drown out the consuming thoughts of a certain man with a peculiar color scheme.

They wouldn’t have known the way you let yourself get felt up by a stranger near the dance floor, standing so close you could smell the knock off cologne he was practically bathing in as his breath hung in the air against your neck. When it went nowhere, he eventually left, looking for prospects elsewhere, while you stuck to your mission, seeing it work at some point at night. Until it didn’t, but you didn’t remember because eventually it’d all fade to black.

Your eyes ripped open, waking up with the biggest headache, blinded by the natural rays of light bleeding through blinds—only your room didn’t have blinds. You specifically made sure to have blackout curtains because you couldn’t stand waking up to the sun, and that hasn’t ever changed. Grumbling irritatingly along the lines about who turned on the lights, you flipped on the other side of the bed with a half awoken daze, your blurry vision making out a lumpy figure underneath the covers.

You drew closer in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were seeing before taking in the fact the lump had a face as blinding as the sun you turned away from, startling you upon recognition. Your eyes shot open, wide awake now, and you nearly stumbled out of the mattress before his arms grabbed you, latching on you before you could fall off and safely secured you in his tucked embrace.

“It’s a bit early for your charming antics, isn’t it?” Minghao chucked with closed eyes.

You blinked back at him, licking your lips anxiously. “How am I here right now?”

His eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the light. “You mean alive or in bed with me?”

Your cheeks grew hot. “B-both.”

“I wish I had an answer for the first question, but it seems your creator had more plans for you. As for your second concern, you seemed confused and tired, and I assumed you confused this bed for yours.”

“You should’ve kicked me out.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, rubbing his hands over your shoulders and sending a chill down your spine. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

You let out a soft sigh, ridden with guilt. “I’d deserve it. I must’ve been annoying to deal with.”

He knitted his brows together, the corner of his lips softly turning down. “You really don’t like yourself.”

“No—well, maybe not lately. Maybe I’m just coming to the realization I’m not a good roommate.”

“No one is good at anything their first time.”

“You’re not denying it!”

“You’re a fine roommate.” Patting you on the back, he threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, leaving his room to trod toward the kitchen. You followed after curiously, like a duckling that imprinted on its mother, watching as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge’s shelves. “Anything you’re allergic to?” He asked over his shoulder.

“Nothing comes to mind.” You answered hesitantly.

“Good. The recipe is fairly easy anyway, it shouldn’t kill you.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly stood by his side as he set all the items down, he followed with gathering bowls and cookware. “You’re cooking for me?”

“Mmh-hmm.”

“You don’t have to.”

He turned his head slightly. “You have a headache, don’t you?”

“Yes but—”

“It’s just egg drop soup.” He patted your shoulder nodding his head over at the counter stool either of you would often have breakfast. “Sit. It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

You sat patiently by the counter, watching him chop and throw ingredients into a small pot, which filled your shared residence with a savory aroma. As soon as he was done, he presented the dish in front of you, garnishing it with fresh chopped scallions and parsley. He picked up a serving with a soup spoon and gently blew on the top before taking a quick sample and grinning at the result. Scooping with the same spoon, he held a serving towards you with proud eyes.

“Try it,” he urged.

As you accepted the offering, you tried not to think about how you were about to share yet another household item that would enter both your mouths and let the simple flavors fan out on your tongue, the warmth of soup dispersing throughout your body. You hummed in delight, already feeling it work its magic. “It’s delicious,” you said softly.

He grinned. “Feel better.”

“Thanks, Minghao.”

“No problem at all.”

As you enjoyed your thoughtful breakfast, your roommate cleaned up his mess. He wiped down whatever residue was left behind before heading to his room and coming out properly dressed in brown slacks and muted green patterned sweater when you were just about done eating. “Heading to work now.”

“You had work?” You asked surprised, “Why did you waste time cooking? You could have left already.”

He softly scoffed heading to the door. “I spent—what, five or ten minutes? It’s fine. See you later.”

In the last 24 hours, Minghao managed to make sure you were safe by tracking your location, gave you a good night's rest by not disrupting your sleep, and made you breakfast right before work. Then there’s you, black out drunk with almost no memory of last night (probably good you didn’t), annoying your overly nice and overly hot roommate, hogging a bed that isn’t yours, and eating a home cooked meal that probably set back his schedule. You were the worst. All the more reason for a new addition to the list.

Good roommates don't sleep in their other roommate’s bed piss drunk (again)

It seemed that this list of “don’ts” was getting longer, probably because you’re an awful roommate, and if there was a reward, yours would already be at the front door. You really, really had to make an effort to do something about this arrangement. Now that some time had passed and these interactions were becoming more frequent, avoiding him seemed to be out of question unless you wanted to give him the wrong impression. You would just have to become a better roommate, and that started with making up for this morning.

In the following months together, to atone for the bed incident and good deeds that followed suit, you shared the occasional breakfast if you had time (that is if you didn’t burn anything), even sometimes grabbing dinner or a late meal in the small gap before or after work. While in the late hours, when both of you should’ve been sleeping, you’d have a cup of your favorite beverages. He’d have his brew of tea for the night while you’d have a mug of coffee, awake under the stars and basking in the night, watching from the nook that you both grew fond of that was in the direction of the moon when it’s at its peak.

Of all people to share these moments with, you couldn’t imagine it with anyone else but Minghao. He was the peace amongst the chaos, the quiet you came home to after dealing with the noisy world that helped you heal like nothing else. You liked that about him, and now you were liking him too much, to the point you thought of him every day. What it’d be like for him to hold you in his arms, letting his warmth envelop your entire being the way his voice naturally does with a simple “it’s okay.”

You’d imagine how he’d look at you, how lovers do when they ache for one another so desperately they could feel it down to every atom. You’d thought of the words he’d say to you, the words he’d say to someone he’s madly, irrevocably besotted with, and every letter and word and sentence would be spoken poetry. He’d feel like love. You didn’t think it was possible for you to grow more attracted to him, but learning all these wonderful things he does and seeing up close and personal how beautiful inside and out he was, you were developing feelings and growing all these desires that you were ashamed to admit out loud.

And with that, you pulled out your list and a pen, jotting in a new item.

Good roommates don’t live in every waking moment staring at them or thinking about wanting to kiss them (no matter how hard it is)

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve already broken that rule, but the least you could do was hold yourself accountable.

However, writing the rule didn't prevent future instances. Not from fantasizing, not from wet dreams, not from imagining a life together where you rid all your inhibitions and clothes and succumb to drowning in each other. Unlike every other rule that you’ve managed to avoid, this one was the outlier, flipping your world on its head and preoccupying every second of your thoughts with all things Xu Minghao. And what sucked was you were so guilt ridden, you couldn't even let yourself enjoy it.

This was your roommate for crying out loud. Your wholesome, nice, forgiving, and tolerant roommate that went beyond what was necessary to make you feel at home and comfortable. Only time will tell when he’ll see through you and finally kick you to the curb.

“Let’s go out.”

Your head lifted up from your phone with eyes large as saucers. “What?”

“We haven't really done anything together,” he suggested, cleaning up the dishes of the dinner you both had just had.

It was one of the few nights that you were both free. The coffee shop had more than enough staff, and you’ve exhausted the hours put in, while the art gallery was planning a grand exhibition, so they needed all hands on deck for the mornings for a few weeks, but evenings would be free until the week of. That left you two a lot more free time than you knew what to do with.

“We see each other all the time,” you pointed out.

“At home. We don’t hang outside the apartment aside from that one dinner the first day we met, so let’s go out.”

You blinked, watching him grab his coat before you could argue as he waved you over, his smile luring you closer and putting you under his spell without you realizing until it was too late. “Uh, where? It’s 9PM.”

“Anywhere.”

For someone who had only arrived in town a couple months ago, Minghao knew a lot of the good spots in the city. If it wasn’t food, it was book stores. If it wasn’t book stores, it was tea shops. He had a clear plan of the city, and without so much looking at a GPS, he could find his way around better than any native. And considering all the people he came with that day you met the coffee shop and all the staff at the Chinese restaurant, his index didn’t stop at places. He seemed more familiar with the people in your hometown than you were. Between you two, he looked like the real local.

Walking alongside your roommate, you turned to him curiously, “How do you know the city so well when you’ve moved in somewhat recently?”

He gave a soft smile looking into the distance, as if the gust of wind that passed through you both hit him with a wave of nostalgia. “I’ve been visiting for about four years. I only had the guts to become a resident recently.”

“Why’d it take you so long?”

“Student visa processes, paper work, all those things. Also, this city is great, and everyone I've met and have become close with is amazing, but home is just home. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He let out a deep sigh, taking in a deep breath before stretching out his arms and let fall back to his sides, turning slightly to you. “This country and town has become a second, though, some things even my home can’t beat.”

You mused at that, intrigued that he could find something appealing in here, then again you've been here all your life, yet Minghao showed you more you could ever imagine of it. “Like what?”

He simply smiled as their feet stopped at their final destination, a location they both aimlessly walked towards just a little off the center of the town. “I’ll tell you, as soon as we try this place out.”

Just off the center of town was a bar you had never heard of with a theme you’d never thought to put together on your own and definitely a place you’d never think to walk into with your roommate you were trying to keep platonic feelings for.

“Hey sexy babies, welcome to the Love in Leather BDSM Bar, where all your sexy dreams can come true.”

Oh, my god.

You were petrified. Every wall was decorated with leather or latex, either on display in a box, on a vulgarly displayed mannequin, or on an employee that was dressed in next to nothing, leaving no room for imagination. You weren’t shy about the theme of BDSM—there was always a small part of you curious about it—but it’s not like you’ve talked extensively about it with Minghao. The same person you were trying really hard not to think about sleeping with, which was especially hard in a place that served ‘cum shots’ and with their special for tonight being ‘buttery nipples.’

Glancing back at your roommate to get his reaction, he seemed to be just as startled with his findings as you were, but perhaps not as terrified as he should be, taking you by the wrist and weaving through the crowd with a marveled expression. You were grateful for the loud music playing the explicit versions of songs you wouldn’t otherwise hear on the radio, drowning out the sound of your heavy breathing and the loud thrum of your heart. You just had hoped he couldn’t feel your pulse under his fingertips, unable to untangle from his grasp as you felt the heat of his touch spread out through your whole body. You were trapped in a web you didn’t want to leave and that was the hardest kind to be in.

Suddenly, lights poured on the center stage of the bar. The music then slowed down, transitioning to another song, and a scantily leather clad woman entered that would erupt cheers of all clients seated in the chairs in front of her, to which she sent an air kiss and wink. Following the crowd, both you and Minghao decided to cheer along with them, your sounds of encouragement drowned out in the more enthusiastic and obscenely creative audience members of the establishment. Walking across the stage, she made a show of it, caressing her body in ways that would have a man on his knees howling at the moon (which you swore you heard once or twice in there) as money was thrown strewn stage like confetti, enough to pay for a few nice dinners uptown. After garnering the excitement, she descended down the steps of the stage, walking into her live audience. Her eyes skimmed through the endless crowds of people, landing on and picking one lucky front row member—a young, spry man no older than twenty-five—and brought him on stage, ensuing roars and applause, indicating the start of the real show.

What happened next was something you did not want to get into detail, but in layman’s terms, that audience member was having the time of his life with the use of a flog while everyone watched. You could only make the distinction of excruciating pain and pleasurable pain by the very loud affirmations coming out of his mouth and bouncing off the board he face planted on, and the words that passed through one of your ears and never wanted to come out the other. You were slack jawed from the scene, not at all expecting this scene today, and holy shit, you could not feel more suffocated knowing Minghao was witnessing all of this beside you.

He stared back at the scene, expression unreadable, but he seemed interested and unable to look away like it was an oncoming train wreck, looking as if he was stuck on the tracks and was making sense of what he was seeing. Suddenly, his eyes locked with yours and you watched as they softened with a glint of something behind them before you swiveled your head, feeling yourself burn from your face to your ears, clenching your free hand. This felt eerily like a date, but unlike the first dinner, this felt like a real one. An immense sexually charged one.

You were surrounded by sex at all angles, being tested to the most extreme degree. Tonight, you’ve learned dominance wasn’t particularly your thing, but if it were Minghao, perhaps you wouldn’t have minded.

But this, this was overwhelming. As if sensing your turmoil, Minghao tugged your wrist, making you fix your gaze on him again and read the words that he mouthed from his lips. “Time to run.”

Your fingers interlocked and feet picked up speed as you headed toward the door, running aimlessly for miles out of the bar in fits of smiles and laughter. There was no plan and no destination, you both just wanted out, and you’d only stop running when you reached a bridge, both your bodies collapsing against the metal railing. You both gave out in heavy pants, your breaths mingling as you faced one another.

“That’s crazy,” you managed to rasp. “Why did we think we could go in there?”

He gave you a tired grin back, looking in the direction from which you came. The light layer of perspiration made his shirt cling to his skin, and you get a sliver of his chest as he aired it out for comfort. “I don’t know. Try something new, but that.” He pointed where he faced. “That’s how I know so many places, I just walk inside.”

You ran your hand over your chest, baring the biggest grin. “Gosh. I feel like dying.”

“Iced coffee?” He kindly suggested.

“And tea?” You cared to offer.

Nodding back at each other, you both decided to walk the rest of the way back around, making a stop at a light night cafe and occupying their second floor balcony to taste the crisp air. As you sipped on your iced coffee and Minghao sipped on his warm tea, you quietly basked in the moonlit sky, as you’d done many times before. The adrenaline of tonight coursed through you still while you leaned against the railings and stared up at the stars, your elbows grazing close enough to spark that electricity that you’d feel whenever he ever got too close. This time, you were too tired to fight it, or you learned it’s about time you stopped trying to.

“I don’t drink coffee.” He abruptly confessed, penetrating the silence.

You softly scoffed, turning your head to him, taking his reminder as a jab for your ‘inferior’ tastes before taking a bigger sip of your delicious fresh roast press. “I know that. You prefer tea.”

“I mean, I don’t drink coffee, but the day you ‘saved me,’ I did.”

You hummed. “Oh. Yeah, you did. Funny. You got a coffee that day instead?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No, ask me why I drank coffee that day.”

You rolled your eyes, placing your drink on the side table before leaning your elbows over the railing. “Okay. Why did you drink coffee, Minghao?”

“I drank my friend’s mug on accident, thinking it was my tea, then tasted how scaldingly hot and wretched it was—”

You gasped, offended as a barista, “I work really hard on those!”

He waved his hand to calm you down. “Let me finish. I mistook my normal tea for coffee…all because I got distracted, unable to stop thinking about the cute barista who wouldn't quit staring at me from behind the counter.”

“...I apologize for being a creep.”

He shook his head smiling and set his tea cup aside. “Not my point.”

You stared into the contents of your drink, shaking the ice inside as you stirred the straw, trying to find any remains of your beverage and stalling for time to follow up with a response. Lips pressed in a firm line, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, silence met on the other end as he keenly observed you, mirroring your posture while he sipped his tea. “So…You thought I was cute,” you managed to sum up.

“Thought…think…know.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You timidly asked.

“We’re roommates,” he reminded you, plain as day. “We should be honest with each other, right?”

“Honest,” you repeated, lethally soft.

“Yes, honest,” he confirmed just as quietly. “Don’t be afraid to tell me whatever is on your mind, just as I’ve told you what was on my mind.”

His honesty was cute, flattering. Your honesty could write up a restraining order. “Is that necessary? We only really live together.”

“It’s necessary because we live together, so yes, be honest about your feelings. Let me in on your thoughts, whatever they may be.”

Good roommates don’t forget to be honest about each other’s feelings.

He stood in front of you dangerously close, the lingering smell of his cologne that reminded you of the ocean wafting into your nose as he drew near. His gaze beckoned you close without so much a word passing through his lips, and you felt his presence close in on the distance as he leaned against the railing. You softly batted your eyes, adjusting to your sense being overtaken by all things Minghao, mind just filled to the brim with Minghao, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

“You’re really committed to being a good roommate. I respect that,” you stated, harshly gulping. “Honesty. Where can I start?”

“Well, what are you thinking about right now?” He asked, face mere inches away from you, lips so plush you let out a wistful sigh.

“I’m thinking that…it’s really hard to think with your face so close in front of me.”

Despite that, he didn’t move, and instead he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your helix to feel your flustered warmth bloom between his fingers. “Fair enough. What else?”

You wrapped your hand around the railing, stabling yourself on the floor in hopes of not falling over on your two feet, your breath being stolen in real time by your roommate who was looking more and more inviting by the second.

“And if I knew any better, I’d think you're about to kiss me.”

“Let’s wager that then,” he said as he reeled even closer, his fingertips once in your ears now guiding your chin, letting the surface of your lips feel the ghost of his as your breaths mingled against one another. “You can predict one of two things. One, I kiss you. Or two, I pull away. You get a prize if your answer is correct.”

“How is that a fair wager? You can easily change your response depending on how I answer,” you pointed out, ultimately playing along.

“I won’t,” he reassured in a coaxingly smooth tone. “I’ve made my choice.”

You raised a brow, attempting to look only subtly intrigued when in reality you’ve let him enchant you. “What’s my prize?”

“Loser grants whatever the winner wishes.”

“That’s irresponsible.”

“Knowing you, your request would be far from unreasonable.”

“I’m talking about you.” You narrowed your eyes, swallowing at seeing him come at you so close. “But, okay. I’ll play.”

The corner of his lips lifted mischievously, tilting his head to the side as his eyes narrowed back at you. “So, what’s your answer?”

Your eyes flickered up to him, rounded up in intrigue as you tried to follow his gaze. “You’ll…pull away. Public displays of affection are cute, but maybe not your cup of tea, at least not grand ones like kissing, unless maybe it’s one the cheek or on the forehead.”

He smiled and gently tilted his head, eyes piercing into yours and taking a sharp breath before pulling away, crossing his arms with a soft pout on his lips. “You’re good.”

You felt the sting of rejection despite your victory, as if you’d hoped you’d be wrong. That he’d take you right there against the railing and give you a fervid kiss that broke you down to your knees and you could even taste in your dreams, but a win was a win. A predicted loss was better than a false victory.

“I guess I won.”

He sighed defeatedly, crossing his arms. “You did. So tell me, what desire would you like for me to fulfill for you?”

You shuddered at his choice of words, clamping your legs together. “Well, what would you have wanted me to do if I got the answer wrong?”

“Is that your wish? For me to answer the question?”

You softly scoffed. “Don’t be so cheap.”

He rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his tea, “Doesn’t matter, you didn’t get it wrong. You get the wish. So go on, tell me your wish.”

“…Fine. Grant me your wish as if you had won.”

“You want me to grant my own wish? That defeats the entire purpose,” he chortled with knitted brows.

“It’s my wish, so come on. What’s your wish?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“And we didn't have to place bets, but it doesn't seem like there’s any rules against it, so go ahead. Tell me.”

Minghao sucked his teeth before complying. “Fine.”

He moved toward you, hands settling over your hips and settling you on the floor beneath your feet as he gravitated toward, steadying his gaze on you. His face, inches away from you, and your breath hitched in your throat as he drew his lips near your ear. You heard the subtle squelch of his tongue as they licked his teeth, moments before the wish he dared you to grant poured out from his lush lips. “My wish is for you to…make me tea every morning, afternoon, evening, and every time I ask you to. Like my little tea gremlin.”

“Now that’s just evil, Xu Minghao,” You protested, lightly shoving him off.

He laughed. “No, it’s not! Think of it like pour over coffee.”

“Don’t try romanticizing it like it’s anything like my beautiful beans. Tea is tea. Coffee is coffee.”

“It was your wish to grant my wish.”

“Can I take it back?” You whined.

“It’d be dishonorable.”

You groaned. “Fine.”

He chuckled, “Let’s go home, hmm?”

Heading back home, you were embraced by a warm comfortable silence. There was a kind of silence that sanctioned your amicable living arrangement with Minghao to turn into something warmer, feverish even, something that you can’t even help but notice and your hands would occasionally graze one another on the way back, taking turn exchanging timid glances at you walked your path home.

“That was fun,” You admitted, taking off your shoes at the front door.

“Yeah, I think so. We should do it more often.”

You smiled at each other’s reflections as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, seeing you take the same tube of toothpaste and started brushing your teeth. You smiled as he purposely bumped into you, raising his eyebrow as you stared pointedly at him in the mirror, not expecting you to retaliate with a light shove. Ensuing a nudging war, you attacked each other’s shoulders, getting caught in fits of giggles before you forced yourselves to split up, knowing nothing would get done if you both let it go on.

“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked through the gaping door of your room as he cleared a glass a water before bedtime, freshly out of a shower and the smell of his clean, light fragrance was beguiling even from a distance.

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Mmh.” He stalked over in your direction, a feign innocent smile on his lips. “That's too bad. We only really have nights like these together, it seems at least only for a little while.”

“It is,” You said, lathering up the last bit of lotion up your legs, feeling his eyes on you as they traveled the path of your hands.

The silence engulfed you, as if both of you were waiting for the other to make a sudden move, yet both of you remained still. Like a predator with its prey, unsure who was who, you both stood with uncertainty and palpable tension hanging in the air, waiting for the other to strike when the moment was right. Even the usually confident Minghao stood back as he observed you from a distance, eyes flickering over at you as you strided slowly towards him guarded with crossed arms.

“I guess, I’ll go to sleep now,” You finally said.

His gaze softened, nodding. “Okay,” he smiled, “good night.”

“Good night, Minghao. Sleep well.”

If only you had taken your own words to heart.

That night, you couldn’t help but stare back at the ceiling, fiddling with the covers as the night’s events replayed in your head like a home movie, your thoughts traveling at a million miles a minute, too fast for you to stop and collect them—let alone process them—and stole your precious slumber. So, as you lay in bed awake at night, squeezing your eyes shut and waiting for the night to take you, waiting for the fatigue and sleep to come, it never arrived. Instead, your eyes ripped open, heart pounding in your chest as you sat up from the mattress and tore the covers off your body. Your legs pushed you off the bed and lifted yourself off, carrying yourself out the room and out the hallway with determined steps until faltering at the threshold of another front door before you softly knocked.

You turned the knob, the door creaked open and you peeked your head through to see your roommate on the other end in bed, torso visibly bare as he slowly sat up at his late night intrusion. “Hey,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “You’re up.”

“I think it’s the coffee,” you excused, clutching the edge of the door, “I can’t sleep.”

Wordlessly, he nodded, stretching an arm to beckon you towards him, and you slowly inched closer to him until you were completely under the covers. Occupying the space beside him, you nestled into the contours of his body as his arm cushioned the side of your head before facing one another, silence enveloping you. The only sound that bit into the silence was muted traffic, infinitely alive outside the walls of your confines. While it looked peaceful, and you felt as though you could melt into his arms, neither of you looked as if you were trying to sleep.

Rather, you stared at one another, making sleep even harder to attain as you traced every feature and took them in as if they were brushstrokes on a painting. Minghao may have worked with art every day, but he was a work of art in his own right, and you couldn’t help favor him above all others. You didn’t need a Van Gogh or Picasso, you had an original, a one of a kind Minghao.

And that’s when you saw his eyes begin to drift, lowering to the bottom half of your face, lips parting in intrigue as his breath fanned lightly against your cheeks. Your face flush in response, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth before they were caught, finding yourself doing the same with him and watching his mouth move in anticipation. You felt your pulse in your throat as much as you felt it between your legs, feeling arousal pooling and soaking your shorts.

“Do you want to wager another bet?” Minghao softly offered.

“What kind?” You breathed.

“The same bet, same prize. Do you think I’ll kiss you, or will I pull away?”

You mused at him, fingers extending toward him reluctantly, aiming for a lock of his hair laying stray on his forehead before smoothing it over his head, softly stroking him, feeling him lean into your touch. “Hmm, this time you’ll…kiss me,” you whispered with absolute certainty. “The tension is practically eating you alive.”

A grin stretched wide across his cheeks as a hand softly clasped over your face, thumb swiping across your cheek. “Right again.”

He closed the gap, slotting his lips between yours and languidly moving against you, letting you chase after his pace. You sighed against him, feeling his hand on your hip as he pulled your torso against his, the other rested against the nape of your neck as he reveled in your heat. Hands flying in his hair, you softly moaned as he kneaded your skin, feeling him trace the inside of your mouth with his tongue before he roughly pulled your weight from the mattress to topple you over him, letting your legs card between his.

“Minghao,” you quietly sounded against his lips, crushing your hips against his groin and hearing his sweet moan in response.

His muscles tensed as you pressed against him, while his legs clung to your thighs. His hands ran over the shape of your figure, unearthing an ungodly moan from your lips as he slipped beneath your shorts, etching over the curve of your ass and claiming your raw flesh in his hands, pushing you against him assertively.

You whimpered, grinding against him. “I know my wish.”

“Anything,” He tenderly mumbled.

“Call off work tomorrow.”

He smiled against your lips, bringing one of his knees to pin your bodies closer together. “Means you should too.”

“Oh, definitely,” You confirmed before reconnecting your mouths in a frenzied liplock.

Feeling the grind of your hips as his pelvis crushed against yours, his grunts slipped through every caress as his hand moved up your back. Soon, you started feeling something you had yet to see from Minghao in all your time living with him, the part of him you managed to evade but have envisioned a multitude of times, growing in his sweatpants and rubbing against your thigh the closer your bodies were.

“I have never wanted someone so bad,” He whispered in a soft ache.

His hands crept underneath your shirt, brushing against your skin, pressing against the small of your back. Pressing his torso towards you, his erection adhered to your thigh, the tension coiling in your stomach burned like wildfire, at an unstoppable rage. “Minghao,” you mewled, impatience singeing on your tongue.

“Somehow, I can still taste coffee on your breath, but I don't really mind it. It tastes really good on you,” He admitted before kissing you deeper, his moans buzzing against your mouth, hungry and alive as his hands dug into your flesh with utter greed.

“You taste really good too.” Your hand body scoured south, cupping his size under your palm and tasting his gasp as you sucked him between your lips. “I wonder what else tastes good.”

“You are something else,” he mumbled, through quiet chuckles. “Just like you to act on impulse.”

You let out a light scoff. “You are so—”

“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” he softly warned with a smirk.

“I’m not the one you have to worry about finishing.”

You moved down, the covers draped over your head as you kept your eyes on him and resting on the hem of his sweats. Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat, gulping while he felt your nails lightly claw against his bare torso, tugging the waistband off the tent he forged, revealing the lack of underwear and restraint he had left, now sprung against your face.

“Shit,” you said grinning, claiming him by the shaft, thumbing over the precum glistening at the tip. “Even your cock looks pretty.”

A soft pink decorated his cheeks and a hand meekly shielded part of his face. “You staring is how I got myself hurt in the first place.”

“Then I’ll be careful not to hurt you this time—that is, unless you want me to.”

You spat on his cock, a translucent ribbon stretching from your tongue to his length. Your saliva lubing your knuckles, you squeezed his girth in your grip as you stroked and felt him pulse in your hands, growing bigger the tighter you clenched. Minghao’s arms propped himself up and behind him as his chest heaved, blood pumping with every drag of your fingers, shallow breaths slipping out of him as he fisted the sheets beneath him.

You kissed the curve of the head, lips pursed to wrap lightly around him, suckling down his shaft, and feeling him twitch against your mouth when you chuckled. He softly whined, his hand extended toward you to tenderly caress the side of your head and tacitly pleading with you as you teased him. Showing him mercy, you took him with an eager mouth, closing your lips around his cock as you steadied your gaze on him. Moans vibrating around his girth, your tongue tucked on the underside of his shaft, hands wrapped tightly around his base.

“Mmmh like that.” He swallowed, exhaling through his teeth the deeper you took him. His abdomen flexing overtly as you moaned around him, vibrated against his skin, your pink muscle tracing over his veins as you worked your jaw to hug a tighter grip. “God, you’re perfect. Don’t stop, please…” he panted.

He palmed at your hair headily, his motor skills not properly functioning as he sucked in his breath, feeling his presence explore deeper. He leveraged his hips to regain some ounce of control, but the sounds of moisture and squelching burned his ears, and the heart in his chest was running like a marathon. His eyes, fluttering in and out of focus, trained his gaze on you while his stomach tensed, grasping the vision of you getting wide-eyed and bold as you gingerly ate him alive. Burning the image into his retinas, it made him want to explode inside you.

Threading through your hair, he pulled them up and off your shoulders, showing off your pretty features, doing everything in his power not to give his climax an early appearance. “I’ve never seen such a pretty mouth take my cock so well. Then again, I’ve never had a pretty roommate like you, or anyone like you.”

Flustered from the flattery, you sucked him like your life depended on it as you grew hot, making Minghao’s task to regain control strenuous to achieve. You hollowed out your cheeks, leaving no room to breathe, and felt him in your throat as your vision rolled to behind your skull to the point your language deduced to the sounds of gagging. You gripped his hips, nails plunged into his flesh as your drool dribbled down his groin, slobbering over his cock in an erratic, hungry mess.

“Yes, like that. My god,” He praised through ragged breaths, hips jerking gently up into you. He lightly threw his head back, the urge to ram himself down your throat getting exceedingly more tempting, but he suppressed it as he dug his nails into his own palms. “I’m so close to cumming, can I��in your mouth or should I…?”

You hummed a confirmation before you swallowed him whole until you met the base, meeting his groin as he vanished inside you, breathing oxygen not even an afterthought. Images in front of you dulled in color, pictures shapeless and unclear, and you pushed past your boundaries to let him find home in your mouth, deeply intent with him finishing inside you one way or the other.

“F…f…fuck...”

Pleasure rippling through him, Minghao pushed himself up from his position, thrusting weakly as he cradled your head, pouring his thick, ivory load into your mouth, which was insistent on receiving every drop. He filled your cheeks, allowing warmth to coat the inside of your mouth as he tenderly stroked your hair in gratitude. Cupping your cheeks as he let his hips falter, he gently pulled himself out of your mouth, amused at how carefully you were trying to not let any of his cum seep past your lips as you sat between his legs.

His fingers danced under your chin. “Are you gonna swallow?” Minghao tiredly chuckled.

With smiling eyes, you tilted your head, as if asking if you should.

He pushed your hair behind you, softly pressing his lips against your tightly shut lips. “Don’t if you don’t want to.”

An idea occurred to you then, and in an instant you pushed yourself up to board him as your knees took either side of him, looming over him. His hands naturally found your waist as you lifted his chin, eyes staring at you curiously as his hands ran up body and gently clawed down, awaiting your next move. You then thumbed over his bottom lip before dipping between the slit of his mouth and saw it naturally part, taking the digit and settling it between his teeth.

Now confidently, you lowered your head, swirling the contents in your mouth before pushing your thumb deeper, prying the entrance wider, and finding no protest as he sanctioned it. He dug the pads of his digits into your flesh in anticipation. His eyes fluttering, he watched as your mouth withdrew the generous gift he gave to you before you gave it right back to him as it gracefully streamed down on his pulsing, eager tongue. And nothing satisfied you more than hearing him sigh wistfully as it landed.

It sent you shivers how beautiful he looked despite how vulgar the act was. Only Xu Minghao could make tasting his own cum look so ethereal, and it only made you wonder what other things a face this beautiful was willing to do. You swiped whatever fell from the corner of his lips with your thumb, sucking the residue like leftovers before you connected your mouths, sharing and tasting his lewd tang in violent swirls, and pulling away to watch it stretch between your tongues.

“I guess toothbrushes aren’t the only things you like to share,” Minghao teased before pushing you on your back, grinding his resurrecting arousal against your clothed heat and lathering the thick, viscous substance flat between your tongues in your mouths as it dribbled down your chins until there was nothing but slobber. It was a mess, and the most unmannerly you’ve ever seen him, and you’ve never been more turned on.

“My turn.”

With a rough hand, he tugged you by your legs towards him, hearing you let out a yelp, and shoved down your shorts to expose your glistening, mouth-watering, arousal soaked entrance. Be still his heart. He felt himself throb seeing you ruin his bed, but hell if he wasn't going to be sucking those juices out of the sheets until he’d tasted every drop.

He kicked off his sweats, leaving him entirely vulnerable while you witnessed his cock slowly twitch back to life before he laid on his stomach between your arched legs. “If we want to talk about pretty things, your pussy is high up on that list.”

Not waiting for a response, he licked a thick stripe up your inner thigh, flickering over your folds before sucking them in his mouth, using the tip of his tongue to tease your entrance. He felt the flutter of your core before spitting, lathering at the juices, coating at entrance but not peeking to see what was inside. “You’re already so wet, fuck.”

“Hao…” You whined.

“Mmmh, I love how you sound,” he chuckled, running long strokes up your slit, wedged through you with every swipe, looking arm around your leg to hold you in place as his thumb brushed over your clit. “Are your moans always this delicious? Or are they reserved for when you’re thinking about me?”

Shaking your head, you were too turned on to answer verbally, while his mouth closed around your clit and sucked, utilizing his fingers to assume their previous position. You clenched your stomach, fisting into the sheets as you spread your legs, feeling them already clam up from the tension as his tongue flicked against your sensitive bud in unison with his fingers twisted up into, and you couldn’t help but writhe underneath him.

“Yes, spread those pretty legs for me,” he encouraged with a haughty smile before burying his face, his moans vibrating up your walls as his tongue massaged your walls and tasted your cock pulsing nectar, sending chills up your spine.

You mewled, and feeling reserved, you held your hands up to your face to shield the tears collecting at your eyes threatening to fall, but Minghao grabbed you by the wrists, roughly pinning them to the bed.

His eyes narrowed back at you before softening almost menacingly, “Don’t cover your pretty face, watch me.”

“But—”

“I want you to watch me fuck your pretty pussy with my mouth. Don’t make me say it twice.” He warned before he got you a quiet nod, earning you a kiss against your inner thigh.

His hand flattened against your inner thighs again, pressing them further away from another and delving his tongue deeper as he rubbed your clit, working your insides until he tasted every inch of you possible. He buried his face, but his eyes were clear, staring at you as he worked his jaw, engorging with his mouth that sent you above and beyond and his eyes that saw you at the result of your undoing. You had no choice but to cling on, freeing yourself from his grasp to have your fingers fly in his hair, navigating him as you took him for a joy ride, his tongue shifting gears as it picked up pace.

“S-shit!” You rolled your hips, threading your fingers through his locks and clamping his head between your thighs as you pushed him deeper.

“Yes, ride my face—fuck, use me, please,” he pleaded in a cracked voice, pouring his heart into his feast until he was practically suffocating, worth it to worship you and bring you to the highest peak of your pleasure.

Your legs trembled as his moans infiltrated your heat, the intense flicks of his tongue titillating you to the brink of ecstasy until he used it to fuck you in time with his fingers thrusting inside, clutching you as you held him in place and grinding against him. “My god, Hao!”

Hips shaking, you bucked into his mouth, and even after your release, he made no effort to stop, lifting you to his mouth as he got on his knees, eating you like a meal he’d never have again until he worked his tongue raw, tasting you and only you as your cum coated his mouth. You squirmed, the suction of his lips on your sensitive core in tandem with his tongue viciously swirling inside you overwhelming you beyond words, unable to kick him off as he held both your knees above his head.

“You’re gonna kill me, Hao,” you cried desperately. “Just put it in me.”

He chuckled before setting you down, meeting your lips halfway as he stroked his fully erect cock, massaging the evening’s concoction against your tastebuds, mingling the contrasting flavors as they battled in your mouth while the knowledge of it all pebbled your skin. Meanwhile, he ran his hands over you beneath your shirt, found your nipples, rolling them against his thumbs as his cock rubbed between your folds, ebbing your moans as they buzzed against his lips. “What if I want to play with you first?” He taunted.

You whined, brushing your lips repeatedly over his. “I want you inside me.”

“You’re cute even when you’re needy,” he gushed.

You clasped your hands over his soft, warm cheeks. “Minghao, please…”

He playfully rolled his eyes, kissing into your palm then down your wrist before his teeth playfully started nibbling at your skin. “Fine, because you asked so nicely. Just to let you know, though, I don’t have a condom on me right now, but I’m clean.”

“Then, we don’t need one.”

He grinned, stroking the back of your head. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Rubbing his tip down your slit, he savored your whimpers as he drew circles against your clit before sliding his length through your folds and stretching your walls, letting you slowly adjust to his presence. Your jaw slightly dropped as you took a sharp inhale, fingers digging into his shoulders and clinging on to him before you felt him sink deeper inside you, pacing his thrusts in a steady rhythm. Your eyes flit to meet his, feeling the back and forth of his hips as they snapped, while you reveled in each collision.

“Yes please…”

Before losing himself in his pleasure, he was determined to remember how you looked getting lost in yours, taking in your features as they distorted under his care. He first found your eyes–lost in a galaxy with an infinite amount of stars out of the way. Then, his eyes started to follow the slope of your cheeks, flushed to the touch against the back of his hand, saliva leaking out of your swollen lips. And your body with the shirt adhered to you by the sweat on your skin, clinging to your form and proving to him time and time again that you were not only the object of his desires, you were something straight out of his dreams.

“You look, taste, and feel good? Where have you been all my life? Really?” He landed a harsh thrust, pressing down on your nipples and smiling manically at how you whimpered in response, clutching you as you shuddered against him. “You like that?”

You nodded, clawing your hand up his back.

“Mmh, me too,” he drew his lips to your ear. “And I like you. A lot. I wouldn’t let someone go on and use my toothbrush for months if I didn’t.” He slowed down his thrusts, cupping your face to meet your eyes. “You like me too, right?”

Feeling your ears burn, you frantically nodded again, mewling after you felt him nip at them, teeth scraping under your earlobe before an open mouth pressed against the side of your neck. The warmth of his breath sweltering against you as you struggled to carry on with the conversation Minghao was determined to have.

“Yeah, you want me to take you on a real date?” He said into the nape of your neck, moaning into your skin as he dragged his hips, rutting into you like an animal. He barely made out your soft ‘yes’s in your sharp gasps. He gritted his teeth, taking you by the hips, pushing himself flushed against you. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he groaned.

His hips took flight while he separated your mouth in a loud moan, feeling you becoming malleable under his touch and growing weaker as you recoiled against him. He lifted your shirt above your chest and neared your stiff peaks, rolling your bud against the base of his tongue as he pinched the other, moving out of pure instinct. You threw your head back, going mad with sexual gratification. Your body spasmed out of your control, yet you craved more.

“Harder,” You gasped.

He scoffed under his breath in disbelief. “You want even more?”

“Yes…I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel everything that’s yours, Minghao.”

Knees buckling at your titillating request, he gripped your ass in both palms, clutching you against him as he rammed himself up inside you, and you’re forced to hold on. “I’ll do you one better,” he offered, “why don’t I just make you mine?”

“I…Oh, god…” Your brain was becoming mush, only processing the sound, taste, smell, sensation of Minghao’s cock as he plunged himself inside you. It fogged up your thoughts, clouded your judgement, and only formed incoherent gibberish that took place of real vocabulary as they passed through your swollen lips.

“Be mine, hmm?” He asked, pleading. “That way I can be yours.”

Captivated by his words, you nodded, feeling him suck the life out of you as your body felt close to giving out, the hilt of his cock bottoming out inside you. You anchored your legs around him, following his pace before you felt something within reach, just seconds away from ripping a scream out of your throat that would surely ensue a noise complaint from one of your neighbors.

“Hao, I’m going to cum, I’m really close,” you meekly warned.

His hand settled against your thigh, nodding. “I can feel it. You’re shaking so hard. Let me have it, I’ll catch you. Every last bit of you.”

Ecstasy was just a word, but Minghao was everything, and you could breathe in that everything.

Your bodies crushed against each other, lost in heat as you became one. Breaths blended, bodies embraced, only faltering after you long finished the initial orgasms, coming back for more. You embraced the sheer carnivorous lust that quelled this several month long push and pull, adhering you by the sweat misted on each other's skin before your mouths tenderly met repeatedly.

Sleep felt futile, while the night felt everlasting. Minghao’s company was more than you could ever ask for, and by the time you did sleep, you were too tired to move. You collapsed against each other, bodies drowning in each other’s releases, sheets and pillows stained by the arousal from the evening’s lack of inhibitions. Minghao should’ve been just as tired, but instead he tended to your tired body, leaving kisses in its wake as he cleaned you off and slept alongside you in your clean bed, letting him worry about laundry in the morning.

With your eyes closed, mind in another world, Minghao was brushing the hair away from your face, softly smiling as you gently stirred and nestled closer to him. In response, he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, warmth blooming in his chest as a grin developed on your face.

“I’ll take you on a proper date. I promise,” he said while you slept. “And If I don’t, pull the bad roommate card on me. You can punish me however you like.”

“…ok, I will.”

#thediamondlifenetwork #seventeen #the8 #xu minghao #minghao #minghao smut #the8 smut #xu minghao smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #minghao fanfic #xu minghao fanfic

306 notes · View notes

muleumpyo · 2 days ago

Text

The day Eddie left for Texas, Buck made a mistake—the biggest of his life.

And that's saying a lot for a kid who was born a failure.

—

The realization had hit the moment he sat down on Eddie's couch, tablet in hand, head still ringing with the words "El Paso" and "leaving" and "Chris." The words hadn't made sense when Eddie had said them, not at first. He hadn't understood what they really meant.

I'm moving back to Texas.

Buck's own response had come out automatically. He could tell what Eddie needed in that moment—the awkward tilt of his head, his hands squeezing tight, his whole body radiating nervousness—and it wasn't whatever clawed, cold thing had suddenly tightened its grasp around Buck's heart, forcing it still.

Eddie wanted encouragement, so Buck had given it, smiling wide, his voice suddenly too loud in the small space.

It wasn't until he strode over to the couch and dropped himself onto its familiar cushions, that he realized that soon, he wouldn't be able to do that anymore. Eddie would find a place in El Paso, hire movers to wrap up his furniture, and start packing up the little house Buck had come to know as a second home. This couch wouldn't be here anymore, and everything else around him—the art on the walls, the pictures on the mantle, the plates they had eaten off a thousand times together—would be gone.

And Eddie, too. His best friend, his partner, the person he thought he'd see basically every day for the rest of his life. He'd be gone.

Nobody ever stays, Buck thought.

That was unfair, he knew. Of course, Eddie had to be with Christopher. There was no question. Eddie had been miserable these last few months without him. But Buck had always thought—had hoped—that Eddie would get through to Chris, or Chris would realize how much he missed his dad, or how much his dad loved him and wanted him home.

Home. Here, in LA.

Here, with the family they had built with the 118, and Maddie, and Jee, and Karen, and Athena, and all the people he and Eddie both loved...

Love.

For a second, Buck wasn't even sure he was breathing.

It was only when the couch dipped next to him and a familiar hand had landed on his shoulder that Buck realized how long he had been sitting there, frozen. When he looked over, he caught Eddie's relieved smile and his warm brown eyes, crinkled in the corners, all the tension from the kitchen gone.

And his heart, which felt like a stone in the center of his chest, restarted. This was Eddie, and Buck would do whatever he could to make sure he was happy. No matter what it took.

And the thought came then, so familiar it was as if he'd had it a thousand times before, although he never had. Not like this.

I want to kiss him.

But he couldn't do that. Eddie was leaving, and Buck wasn't going to do anything to mess up their friendship before he left.

—

The thought followed him around for the next month, as Eddie found a place (close but not too close to his parents and Christopher, with a pool already in the backyard) and put in an offer, as he put in his resignation and packed up his things and said goodbye to everyone, one by one.

Everyone was emotional about it. Buck's weren't the only tears shed at the goodbye (for now) party. That made it a little easier. It wasn't just him that loved Eddie, even if he was 98% sure nobody else there loved him in quite the same way.

But the thought followed Buck all the way out the front door with Eddie on that final morning, carrying the last boxes from the quiet, empty house. The weather had endeavored to comply with his mood, sending a rare storm through southern California the night before. In the pale morning light, rain silvered the edges of the trailer and the messy strands of Eddie's hair.

This was it.

They put the boxes in the trailer and Eddie pulled it closed, the metallic clank of the latch echoing in Buck's ears like some screwed up record playing the same five seconds of a song, over and over again.

Eddie turned to him, awkwardly clapping his hands together, an uncertain smile pressing into his cheeks.

There was now nothing left to say or do but make their goodbyes.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

"Have a good drive," Buck said suddenly, the words coming from somewhere outside himself. "Let me know when you get there."

The smile on Eddie's face shifted slightly, through some emotion Buck couldn't quite read. "Of course."

Silence drew long between them again, awkward in a way it never was. Buck's stomach twisted, his throat tight with some emotion he couldn't name. Was this it? His goodbye with Eddie?

"Well, I—"

"You should—"

They both stopped, each waiting for the other to continue.

This whole thing felt so wrong and it couldn't just be because he didn't want Eddie to go. It was wrong. But he couldn't keep him here, either.

Finally, Buck tried again, attempting to inject levity into his voice that he didn't feel. "You should probably get going, before traffic gets bad."

Amusement lifted the corner of Eddie's lips. "It's LA. Traffic is always bad."

Buck's heart curled up inside his chest. Why couldn't he do this right? "Yeah, I know, I just—"

"I know," Eddie interrupted quietly, stepping closer, his hand warm on Buck's shoulder. He looked... unhappy. "Sorry. I just—" he let out a low breath, shaking his head "—thanks."

Buck wanted to say it was okay, he understood, but he couldn't seem to speak. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Eddie and pulled him in close.

He tried to keep the hug light, friendly, but it was Eddie who squeezed him in closer, until they were fully pressed together and Buck couldn't help but hold him tightly in return.

They wouldn't have this again. Not in the same way, he was sure. The scent of Eddie's shampoo, the solidity and strength of his body in Buck's arms, the press of his face, so briefly, into the crook of Buck's neck. They fit so perfectly together, Buck never wanted to let go.

But eventually Eddie pulled back slightly, his grip loosening, and Buck made himself do the same. His heart felt like a fatal weight, pulling him underwater.

He didn't know why he did it. Perhaps it was that last second close together, their faces inches apart, the weight of Eddie's hands on his shoulders, or the way he hesitated when Buck went to pull away.

Or maybe it was the fear that he wasn't going to see Eddie again, not for a long time.

So Buck made the biggest mistake of his life: he leaned in and kissed Eddie.

The kiss was perfect, small and soft, Eddie's lips warm against his, the rain falling cool against his cheek. He felt suspended in space, his whole body lifted free from gravity's pull for just a moment. But it was wrong.

Eddie wasn't kissing back.

Fear slammed him back into himself, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. Of course, Eddie didn't feel the same.

Fuck. He had screwed this up, worse than any other screw-up.

He pulled away, mind reeling with excuses he couldn't quite get out of his mouth. But when he opened his eyes, it wasn't to accusations, or anger, but to tears on Eddie's face. Buck's whole body went cold.

"Eddie," he said helplessly, "I'm—"

Eddie shook his head, something painful stealing across his expression.

The silence between them felt heavy, pulling at Buck's heart. But before he could ask, or continue, Eddie wrapped a hand around his arm and pulled him in again.

And this time, Eddie kissed him.

If the first kiss had felt perfect, this felt better—and worse. Eddie pulling him close, lips soft on his, breath fanning across his cheek. The small sound he made when Buck leaned further in, the way he rose into the kiss, like he couldn't get enough.

Perfect, and just—Eddie.

But it was worse when he pulled away. It was worse when he met Buck's gaze, that pain from before not gone, but even more deeply embedded.

"I'm sorry," Eddie said, his voice rough. "I have to go."

Buck swallowed around the lump in his throat, unable to do more than say, "Y-yeah. I know. Have a safe drive."

Eddie nodded, eyes tracing over Buck's face like he was afraid he'd forget it. "We'll talk later."

Buck nodded, unable to speak.

Eddie gave him one last look, and then he was gone.

#buddie #911 fox #911 abc #buddie fanart #buddie fic #evan buck buckley #artists on tumblr #911 spoilers #911 season 8 #911 season eight #evan buckley #eddie diaz #digital art #happy valentines day #this scene will emotionally devastate me. i just know it #the abby parallels!! buck's abandonment issues!! eddie self sacrificing again!!!!!

236 notes · View notes

devildomwriter · 2 days ago

Text

They Discover You Doodling Them in Your Notebook | Others x Reader

Solomon

Solomon had called you in for another lesson in potions, one he had invented himself by mistake. At first, you were really interested and participated but now you were waiting for the mixture to settle so he was organizing his things in the meantime.

As you waited you helped yourself to some of Luke’s cookies but then he, Simeon, and Raphael turned in for the night and it was just you and your D.D.D. which was nearly dead. To pass the time left you took out your sketchbook intending to study but you were much too tired for that and your pencil had a mind of its own.

You had no intentions to draw Solomon but your eyes followed him as he walked around the room, humming an unknown archaic song. He looked as innocently cheery as ever despite being anything but.

You blushed as you studied the way his hair fell across his face, the way his gray eyes darted back and forth as he collected things with careful precision.

Then without meaning to, your eyes met and you quickly looked away pretending it didn’t happen. This was the wrong move as it made him more suspicious. He walked over with a smile hoping you were studying as you’d intended.

“My, look how studious my apprentice is being!” He beamed and before you could protest he quickly levitated the notebook in front of him as you tried to hide your blush.

“Oh my. Studying me are we? Well, I certainly don’t mind but our potion is ready now. However, I could set aside some time later tonight if you’d like?”

“For me to draw you?”

“Hm…sure if that’s what you’re really interested in. But I get the feeling that’s not what you were drawing me, is it?”

Spot on as always, you snatched your notebook back and hid your red face as he laughed and teased you further.

It was going to be a long night no matter what you decided.

Simeon

You sat up against the headboard on Simeon’s bed, writing in your notebook as he sat at his screen typing away as ideas for his novel flooded his brain.

You didn’t understand how he broke free from his writer’s block so easily. Maybe it was some divine power? Most writers procrastinated for a living, while he wrote nearly every day for millennia.

You took a sip of your drink and sat it down on his nightstand. You’d come over to spend time with him doing nothing in particular. Being in each other’s presence was enough to be content and it was significantly calmer here than back at the House of Lamentation.

He strongly encouraged you to study or take a nap, whatever you felt like but trying to study was hard to begin with, but impossible when staring at his exposed back as he sat across from the bed. You had no idea what angel garments were so open but you weren’t complaining.

You decided you’d sketch him while you could, it gave you great practice at drawing backs, something you rarely considered doodling.

As you sat there in a daze you stared at his shoulder blades, the way he hunched over the keyboard and occasionally sat back to stretch and avoid poor posture. You desperately wanted to run your hand across his soft skin and Simeon must’ve felt your eyes in him because he sat up and turned around to see you sketching away.

He was by your side by the time you saw him and you let out a small “eep” that made him laugh. He thought you were truly adorable.

“May I see?” He asked and you blushed but allowed him since he’d been so polite.

He looked at the drawing and blushed, “My, these are excellent, ___.” He praised. “You’ve spent so long watching me type away, it’s your turn now. Allow me to pose for you?”

Luke

You were at Purgatory Hall, via Luke’s invitation to help him with a new recipe. Luke had it down so you mostly watched and agreed with the comments he made about the process and taste.

Now it was in the oven and you had nothing but time. Luke decided it would be a good idea to study, and not wanting to look less responsible than the child, you took out your notebook too.

You watched Luke kick his legs and stick out his tongue as he thought about what he was writing. It was so cute you had to capture it and taking out your D.D.D. would just alert him so you quickly got to sketching.

You propped your notebook up a bit so he couldn’t see it from where he was.

He sighed exasperatedly and frowned at his assignment. “Hey, ___?” He asked.

“Yeah?” You responded without looking away from your drawing.

“I don’t really get this part, can you help me?” You set your pencil down and looked at the question.

“Oh heck no,” you said bluntly.

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I have no idea what that is at all, ask Solomon.”

“I would but he’s at the Demon Lord’s Castle today.”

“Oh yeah…”

“Well, if you don’t know anything about it what have you been working on?”

“Oof, caught red-handed. I was just drawing you,” you admitted and spun your notebook around to show him.

His eyes lit up and he smiled, “WOW, ___! This is really good!” He paused for a minute and pointed at one of the drawings.

“Why do I have cat ears?”

“Actually, those are Chihuahua ears.”

“___!”

Raphael

You watched Raphael hum as he sorted through the rows of fabrics trying to find the right one for his new embroidery project.

He’d asked you to tag along and you excitedly agreed as he wasn’t much of a social butterfly and you loved getting a chance to hand around him more. You didn’t expect, however, that finding a single piece of fabric for his new pillow was going to take over an hour.

Raphael was very particular so you should’ve expected this, maybe some part of you had as you’d brought along your notebook.

The notebook wasn’t for school or anything in particular, just something to jot down notes or ideas as they came to you. Right now all that came to you was the strong urge to sketch Raphael’s serious gaze as he sifted through hundreds of sheets of fabric.

Occasionally he’d show one to you with a sweet smile and ask for your opinion, but in the end, he chose whatever felt right.

Each time you looked up from your drawing he was in much the same position but slightly farther down the aisle until you looked up to see he wasn’t there.

You set your notebook down on the chair and stood up quickly looking for him.

“Raphael?” You called.

“What is this your drawing?” You heard directly behind you and jumped.

Raphael seemed concerned as you caught the breath he’d scared out of you. You laughed it off and sighed.

“You’re really so quiet,” you huffed.

“No…I just don’t think you were paying attention.” He commented.

He picked your notebook up to see the drawings of him across the page.

It was difficult to tell how he felt as he wasn’t very expressive until a sweet smile crossed his face and his eyes seemed to sparkle just a bit.

He handed the notebook back to you, “You have talent.” He complimented and you blushed.

“Do you think I could draw you with your spear sometime?”

He tilted his head, “what for?”

“Art?”

“Hmm…” He thought about it before smiling “Sure.”

Thirteen

Thirteen had invited you to her home to help her build her latest invention. You were excited to get in on it but she was so absorbed you were mostly left to handing her tools and trying to remember what she named them. So instead of being useless, you decided to take notes as she explained some of it to you.

Eventually, you became so lost that you just gave up and started drawing it instead and when you ran out of tools to draw you started sketching Thirteen.

It was simple at first, just brief pencil strokes in a sloppy outline but then you began to focus on her. The way her hair fell into her face as she leaned in closer, the spark in her eyes and brilliant smile as she discovered something new, the red tint on her cheeks when she caught you staring at her.

“Hey? What are you doing?” She asked and stood up walking over to you.

Too embarrassed to admit you weren’t doing what she’d asked and had been sketching her instead you hid the notebook in your backpack.

“What? You’re really not gonna show me?” She said a little surprised as you were usually very open with her.

“I…got distracted.” You admitted and she shook her head.

“Really? I was hoping you’d keep instructions for me, I plan to mass-produce these. That way if that damn sorcerer brings down one, he’ll have hundreds more to watch out for!” She began laughing manically to herself and you laughed at her antics and nodded.

You reacted for your notebook again and she quickly snatched it from you, “It’s mine now!”

“Thirteen?” You poured and she laughed and flipped through your notebook. She found the pages you’s written in and nodded approvingly until she got to her sketches and her face turned a shade of pink darker than her hair.

“Wh-what are these?”

“…I got distracted.”

She blushed again and handed the notebook back to you. “Fine, I’ll allow it,” she huffed and got back to work occasionally fixing her hair now that she knew you had your eyes on her.

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles has called you into the RAD Newspaper’s office that morning to assist him with an interview. Lucifigus, a friend of Asmodeus’s was going to be hosting a fashion week show in the greenhouse at RAD. Mephistopheles wanted your assistance taking down notes as he interviewed to make sure things flowed smoothly.

Mephistop was already taking diligent notes as was his habit so at some point you began lazily jotting down two words here and there in between doodling. Lucifugus was a beautiful demon but you couldn’t help but be drawn to Mephistopheles and his enthusiastic but serious expression as he conducted the interview.

After what felt like an hour Mephistopheles stood up and extended his hand to Lucifigus to shake so you quickly got to your feet to do the same.

“Thank you for your time,” you mimicked Mephistopheles and Lucifigus grinned and thanked you both before leaving with a flirtatious wave.

“Well, I’d say that went very well,” Mephistopheles grinned and turned to you, holding up his notebook. “Now then, let’s compare notes.”

Your face turned a little pink and he noticed, “No need to be flustered. I’ve been doing this far longer than you so you needn’t worry about matching my level of skill.”

He reached for your notebook but you closed it abruptly. He gave you a slightly exasperated look. “___… you were taking notes, right…like I asked?”

“Uh…um…at first.”

He sighed, “At first?” He decided to investigate for himself and grabbed your notebook, flipping through it until he found what you’d been doing and his cheeks flushed a color darker than his hair.

“I-I see…” he stuttered, more flustered than you. “W-well, I suppose it’s only natural to document the most interesting person in the room.” He boasted but inside he was a melting mess. ‘How cute can this human be?’

Barbatos

You had your notebook out, ready to write down recipes for Barbatos as he experimented with improving one of Diavolo’s favorite meals. You volunteered to help so you could gain some cooking experience, something you sorely lacked.

Barbatos hummed and his tail flicked back and forth as he concentrated. Every so often he looked your way to see what you were doing and was pleased to see you happily jotting down notes in your book. After a few minutes, he noticed something strange. He’d tell you to write something down and you’d flip back a few pages to jot it down.

He frowned and quickly deduced that you were doing something other than observing his cooking instructions but decided to let you do as you pleased since he worried he’d bore you with the painfully long waiting time in between cooking steps.

You watched Barbatos with a small smile as you gently sketched his features in your notepad. You were worried he’d notice and want a look at what you were doing. That would be humiliating for you since you were far from being a good realism artist—you preferred chibi sketches, something Barbatos found odd when Leviathan did it.

Your eyes briefly met his and you blushed and watched him set a timer for the sweets before turning back to you.

“May I see what you’ve written so far?” He asked with a warm smile and you nodded and quickly flipped to the correct page.

He reached out his hand to take the book but you kept a firm grip on it, tipping him off further, so he hid a chuckle and simply observed your notes instead.

“Ah, good. But you’ll need to fix this,” he hummed and took out a pen from his apron. “May I?” He asked and you nodded handing the notebook over so he could correct your notes.

He leaned over the counter as he wrote down what he needed and you froze as you saw him quickly flip to your sketch page.

He met your eyes as he did so, a mischievous smile across his face as you quickly got up to explain.

“Um—I was just—“

Barbatos looked down at the sketches of himself and his heart skipped. He covered his mouth to hide his pleasure with what he saw, but when he saw your panicked expression he was quick to praise you.

“These are incredible, ___, why don’t I make you some tea while you continue?”

Diavolo

Diavolo sat across from you at the RAD lunch table. He’d invited you to his private booth that day since it was hard to find time in his schedule to be with you.

He grinned as he watched you studiously write in your school notebooks for what he assumed was your previous Devildom Math course, a subject he knew you struggled with.

He sipped on his tea from Barbatos who took the cup back to refill it.

“Your tea is getting cold,” Diavolo reminded you and you were brought back to reality and quickly closed your sketchbook with a small blush, worried he’d bit iced what you were doing.

Diavolo hadn’t noticed, but a certain butler did and he smiled at you knowingly and excused himself to replenish your snacks.

“I’m glad to see you working so hard here, I know it hasn’t been easy adjusting,” Diavolo complimented and you almost felt a little guilty that you weren’t studying at all.

You’d been working on your art style lately, ignoring math for as long as you could, and the current subject of your artistic inspiration was the beautiful demon prince in front of you.

“It’s more like adjusting to going back to school, than anything,” you admitted and he nodded.

“I see. Another reason you should be proud of yourself, as I am,” he grinned and reached out his hand.

You gave him a quizzical look so he laughed and asked for your notes, “May I see what you are studying? I might be able to help?”

You were caught now. Your study books were shoved in your backpack on the ground.

“Umm, actually I was just sketching…” you admitted and he tilted his head, a curious gleam in his eyes.

“Oh! I’d love to see your art if you’ll let me.” He asked excitedly so you nodded and flipped to the beginning of your sketchbook where you had normal sketches of the Devildom.

It pleased Diavolo to see you drawing his realm and the creatures in it but then he flipped a little too far into the notebook and you quickly stood up to take it back but it was too late.

“Oh, what’s this?” He asked as he saw page after page of himself from all different angles.

“I uh…” you were lost for words and defeatedly covered your blush, hiding your face in your hands.

He laughed at your reaction and handed your notebook back, “I’m sorry, did you not want me to see these?”

He gave you your sketch pad back and you blushed and hid it in your bag finally taking a sip of your drink instead. It was quiet for a moment before Diavolo cleared his throat and looked at you with a faint blush in his cheeks.

“I’d love it if you could do my portrait sometime. Nothing would make me happier than to have your art in the walls of my castle where I can see it every day.”

Brothers

205 notes · View notes

slut4christopherr · 2 days ago

Text

— SOFT SPOT —

matthew sturniolo…

warnings: fluff, thigh touching?

(i think that’s all! if not then lmk!)

summary: you and matt were always close, no matter what, even if you had hung out and it was silent. it was comfortable. you both got paired for a history project which brought you both together. most of the time when you hang out with matt it’s just silence, but it’s the best times ever.

a/n: not a lot of talking in this! enjoy though!!

matt talking=blue

reader talking=pink

you've were under the impression that matt was utterly in love with cassie. she was beautiful, kind, so you couldn't blame him.

she was the reason you'd even met him in the first place─she introduced you to the triplets, creating a small friend group you had now.

you were close with each of them in your own ways, but with matt it was just the comfortable silence.

you both weren't big on starting conversations so when you'd be left alone it was usually silent, mixed with the occasional ask to grab something for one another.

when you inevitably got paired together for a history project, matt finally decided to talk to you─the first few weeks just being endless questions about cassie, each time further driving you further until your responses were small 'i don't know's’ and repeatidly asking to focus on the assignment.

he never noticed your mood shifted from calm to annoyed anytime you saw him─but what he did notice...was how pretty you were.

matt's pupils dilated everytime he saw you, which was almost every other day. he seemed to grow a sweet soft spot for you, insisting on hanging out even when it didn't involve the project.

✧˖°.

matt's eyes averted to lunch cooridors, his hard gaze liftinv as you walked in with cassie, but just like every other time for the past two weeks, they had stayed on you. he could feel this giddiness as you walked closer, your smile staying as you faced the group.

matt scooted a little further from the edge to make space with you, his cheeks reaching his eyes with a smile as you thanked him, taking the seat.

you were busy talking with cassie as nick, only keeping the fact matts head rested on your shoulder, nuzzling himself closer as if he couldn't get enough of your perfume, at the back of your mind.

you didn't know when this change of character had happened, but you were alright with it─knowing if you'd reject it matt would instantly back off. his grabby hands lowered to play with the fabric of your skirt

"s'this new?"

he murmured against your neck. you didn't know if he was talking about the skirt... or the fact he was so clingy.

matt could sense your uneasiness, so he pulled back a little which earned a slight frown from him. he was just about to say something, but cassie began talking again.

but not before he could whisper in your ear.

“you look really good in skirts."

he leaned back into your shoulder again, resting his head this time as he started to play with it again.

matt was hyper fixation on the fabric, twirling his fingers through it─he wanted to just get up and sit on your lap and bury his head even more...but he didn't want to be to obvious in public... as obvious as to how his hands were wandering.

nick was telling a funny story now, resulting in everyone around the table being very distracted.

matt was only half-listening as he was so focused on you, his head now turned into your neck. he inhaled the sweet scent of your perfume...and could almost taste it. he wanted more.

matt’s hand begins travelling painfully slow up your thigh, his fingers tracing little patterns across your skin, but he goes way too high for being in public so you slap his hand, not too hard but enough to startle him.

matt's hand froze as you stopped it, his breath hitching. he hadn't even realized his hand had been moving so far up... but now he didn't want to stop. he just wanted to continue...

✧˖°.

3 minutes later…

matt gently placed his hand on your thigh again, his thumb rubbing in a circle. he knew if you saw his face right now, it would be completely flustered. he just kept his head buried in your neck.

matts hand was a little higher this time─so, a little bit of your thigh was now exposed. and he could tell that no one around the table was paying attention to both of you, considering how high the table and benches were...

matt's hand began to travel up a little more, but just as he was about to go higher, you placed your own hand on his.

his head pulled away from your neck this time, his face so close to your own that he could feel himself breath in your perfume even more. he was completely flustered now, just staring directly at your own hand on top of his.

he stayed like that for a few seconds before finally looking up at you, meeting your gaze with his own.

he kept silent, letting his eyes just travel all over your face and down to your mouth...he was in trance almost.

he couldn't help but keep staring at your lips, his own mouth slightly parted. matt was getting the familiar itch to pull you away and find somewhere more private, or at least away from the table...

his hand moved under your own, lightly holding onto your wrist. his thumb began rubbing circles on your skin, keeping his gaze on you as he leaned in a little closer...

his lips parted ever so slightly more as he inhaled your perfume once again.

it got him every time.

he didn't know what it was, maybe just the way the smell lingered on your skin but he just wanted to taste you, he wanted nothing more than just to feel your lips on his own.

he let his hand travel up your arm, his grip on your wrist tightening. this time, his lips grazed over your earlobe, his breath hot and shaky.

"i have something to ask you..."

matt's voice was quieter this time, but there was something in the way his voice sounded that sent chills through your spine...he was definitely on edge this time, but he didn't want anyone around the table to hear...

“what’s up?”

your voice came out quieter than expected, heat rising in your cheeks.

matt moved his head back, his gaze once again fixated on your lips. he bit his lip, his fingers gripping onto your wrist.

“can i talk to you...privately?"

on one hand, matt seemed desperate to know the answer, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes, as if they were in a silent fight to see who would give in first...he wanted more than to just be touching you.

he wanted more than just whispering to you. he wanted to say it all to you, tell you everything on his mind...

he needed to be alone with you...

but on the other hand, your heart was pounding in your chest, you swear it’s visible, matts eyes locked onto yours, the way his chest rose and fell. you finally found your voice.

“yeah.. where we going?”

matt stood up, not waiting for your hand to stop holding yours before he began tugging you away, towards the bathroom. he was almost shaking as he did, as to not be seen by anyone around...he just wanted to have you alone.

as the bathroom door finally appeared, matt pushed through the door, checking under the sinks to make sure it was empty before pulling you in.

he let go of your hand as soon as the door shut, locking it behind him. he leaned back against the door, exhaling as he just let everything hit him. he was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon...

he took another breath as he just let his eyes roam over your body, taking in your presence. he wanted to touch you so badly, but he still held back.

“you wanted to talk?”

matt nodded but he still didn't say anything right away. he had to take a few more deep breaths to try to calm himself down. he was so worked up already...he didn't even realize how badly he wanted this until now...

his eyes were on you this time, he couldn't help but stare. he loved the way your body looked, the way your hair fell, and the sweet smell of your skin. how was he able to hold back this long.

he pushed off the door and started to walk slowly towards you, his eyes still staring down at you...his gaze looked hungry this time.

he just wanted to grab you, pull you closer...

he was having an internal battle with himself at this moment. he had to keep it cool, he couldn't push you away, but he was already so desperate...

he moved closer to you until he was standing in front of you only a couple inches away. he was still shaking a bit as he looked you in the eyes, his own gaze filled with a thousand emotions that he was trying to keep in.

he wanted to reach out, to touch you...but he was having trouble giving in to his desires...just a few more breaths...he let his tongue dart out, wetting his lips in small movements.

“matt..?”

matt's body almost tensed up when he heard his name come from your lips. the way you said it, so soft and sweet...he just wanted to hear you say it over and over to him.

he was so worked up at this point, he would have been fine with you just saying his name over and over again all night.

he had to take another, deeper breath, this one sounding almost strained. he was desperate at this point. he couldn't just be this close to you without touching you…

then…

your eyes open to the sound of your alarm blaring in your ears.

it was all a dream…?

you tiredly got yourself out of bed and put your uniform on, brushed your teeth, did your makeup, ate your breakfast, and went to school, hung out with matt like nothing had happened in your own head last night.

a/n: my sincerest apologies for the ending. 😭 i hope y’all enjoyed i’ve been writing this for the past 2 hours LMAO

dividers : @bernardsbendystraws

tgl: @ariastur9z @plasticferal @pasteldreams @pr3ttylittleslutt @phone4pills @pussypie456 @chr1sslvtt @christmastreecake @chrisprettybaby @chrissturniolodailysluts @chrissweetheart @alexturnersgooch @angelisaslutforthesturniolos @addisynchrisslvt342 @anyaa2s @blushsturns @baebadoobee4ever @ishasturnz @ifwriasredhair @ivysturnss @iluvnicksturniolo @ineedchriscock @dollieskisses @delilahsturniolo @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsobvimyfav @mattscoquette @mattsmedusa @mattsdeer @m4ttthemunch @mattsbunnyxx @sturns-mermaid

85 notes · View notes

captain-huggy-bear · 1 day ago

Text

Marks on Your Skin

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, Smut/NSFW

Summary: Clayton is a big fan of that particular lipstick you always wear, the one that leaves red marks all over his skin. He particularly likes kissing it off of you

Notes: This wasn't supposed to be NSFW but it just led that way, still not confident in my smut writing so fingers crossed its not shit.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

From the first moment that Clayton Keller met you, you'd always worn red lipstick. It was such a constant part of your everyday attire that he grew concerned when you didn't wear it. The days you didn't choose to put the red lipstick on were always the days that he knew you were feeling self-conscious, maybe body dysmorphic, not wanting the attention that a bright red lip would draw. On those days he always knew he needed to give you more tenderness, more compliments, more affection and love.

He was fond of the red lip look you always sported. Fond of the fact he could use it to tell your mood, that a dark red lip often meant you were feeling a little more angsty and 'vampy' as you'd put, a bright red lip showed you were more confident that day and no red lip a bad sign entirely. He was fond of the way the red looked against your skin, how it seemed to make your eyes pop and he was fond of the way you smiled more when wearing it.

Most of the time you wore a red lip that was almost impossible to budge, the sort of red lip that never left much of a mark behind when you kissed his cheek. But, sometimes...sometimes you wore his favourite lipstick on you. A true red that wasn't too bright or too dark, a red lipstick that wasn't immovable, a red lipstick that left marks behind whenever and wherever you kissed him.

Call it some sort of silly infatuation, a quirk of his or call it some sort of prideful desire to have your affection visible and littered across his skin, but whenever you wear that lipstick he can't help but goad you into kissing him, into pressing marks into his skin. It's like a switch flips in his head so that the only thing he can really focus on is that you're wearing that lipstick and how fucking good it looks on his skin.

The truth is it's not just Clayton who enjoys the perfect crimson lip shaped marks left on him. You only keep that lipstick for him, for the express purpose of leaving red lip prints across his skin. You'd have thrown it out ages ago otherwise. It was impractical, always rubbing off, leaving smudge marks around your mouth whenever you ate anything. You kept it for him. knowing that he'd coax you into kissing him the moment he saw you wearing it...not that he needed to know that. He'd be far too smug about it if he knew.

It was nicer instead to enjoy his reaction whenever he saw you wearing it. Like right now. Clayton had assumed when you said you were going to touch up your lipstick after dinner that you'd meant with the same lipstick, the bright red one that never seemed to budge except when you ate something particularly greasy. He hadn't expected the lipstick to replace it.

You could track the moment he clocked it as you sat back down at the restaurant table you had been having dinner at, how his eyes seemed to narrow on your mouth before blowing wide, pupils dilating like he'd seen his favourite dessert. Part of you wonders, as you try to hide your smirk, if you had managed to create some sort of Pavlovian response in him, trained him to expect kisses and marks whenever he saw that lipstick.

"Everything alright, Clay?" You're smirking as you see his reaction, unable to help it. It's hard not to feel a little prideful when someone like Clayton, your boyfriend, is staring at your lips so intently, looking at you with blown pupils all because you're wearing a silly lipstick.

"You didn't want dessert, right?" He doesn't even really wait for you to answer before his hand is in the air calling for the bill and you know he's got one thing on his mind: kisses. Silly red smudges across his skin that he'll refuse to wipe off until the morning when the red will have transferred onto his pillow and he'll have to get it dry cleaned to remove the marks.

"Maybe I wanted dessert? There was a very tasty look cheesecake on the menu." He's got his card out already, barely looking at the price of the meal before paying, perks of being an NHL star. It amuses you, how focused he suddenly is on getting you both out of the restaurant and home.

"I'll door dash you a cheesecake later, baby." It's an absent sort of comment, offhanded, as Clayton shrugs on his jacket before making his way behind your chair to help you into your own.

"What's the rush?" You put your arms through your jacket as he helps it onto your shoulders, not having a chance to reach for your bag before he's picking it up and handing it to you.

"You know exactly what the rush is, baby." His large hand is already pressing into your lower back to urge you forward and towards the door. Clayton leaning down as you walk to whisper into your ear, trying to keep a modicum of respect in a public place.

"Maybe I don't?" Your coy answer has his hand sliding from your back, over your hip and around your waist until he can pull you tight against his side as the two of you keep walking, "The rush is that lipstick." His breath is warm against your ear, the sort of temperature change that has goose bumps rising on your skin, a little shiver falling down your spine as a strand of Clay's hair tickles the skin of your neck.

"This old thing?"

"Don't play fucking coy, baby. Ass out the door, in the car, now." Clay's voice is low and gruff and while it sends a thrill through you, a wave of goose bumps across your skin, you can't help but laugh at him, a laugh that earns you a sharp swat to the arse the moment you're out of the restaurant and onto the quiet street.

"Clay!" You hiss at him even though no one is around at this time of night and all it does it earn you a second, harder swat that has you practically trotting to the car.

You learnt years ago not to even bother reaching for the door handle, waiting patiently by the car door even as you glare at your boyfriend for manhandling you.

"In, baby." Clay has the door open wide, tilting his head towards the car seat, gesturing you in. He's not smiling, too fixed on his goal, the sort of look you often see when watching him play out on the ice. All he's missing is that godforsaken mouthguard to chew.

"You're so bossy, Clayton." You say it as if it bothers you, as if you don't love the dynamic the two of you have where he's the decision maker, the one in control and you get to sit back and reap the rewards. You say it as if it's a chore and not one of your favourite things about him, that he's so natural at taking charge of any situation, so good at leading you.

"I thought you liked me telling you what to do, sweet girl?" The smirk he directs your way makes you freeze, warmth flooding your face because fuck, he's hot and you really, always manage to underestimate his ability to fluster you.

"Shut up." Your response only widens his smirk, a confirmation that he has in fact won this little tete-a-tete as you sink into the passenger side seat.

You practically hold your breath when he dips inside the door to buckle your seat belt for you. Clayton's so close as he does so that his hair grazes your chest, warm breath falling across your skin. His blue eyes have practically between swallowed by his pupils, damn near black to the naked eye.

The moment Clay is in the driver's seat his large hand finds the bare skin of your thigh, long fingers dipping under the skirt of your dress to feel your warm skin. His ring is cold against your skin, bracelets pressing in just as his fingers do, squeezing like he's contemplating leaving a mark there. There's something delicious about watching the way fingers flex, the tendons on the back of his palm shifting as he grips you.

There's a heavy sort of tension in the air, anticipation swirling around you and making you breathless or maybe that's because Clay's fingers wander at every set of traffic lights, fingers dancing higher up your thigh before easing back down. The sort of light, teasing motion that has goose bumps covering your skin and a shiver running down your spine.

It doesn't help that he's smirking the whole time, dimple on one side of his mouth prominent, eyes dark and lidded. He doesn't even have to look at you because even from his side profile it's enough to send a flash of heat through you, a sort of restlessness that fills you causing you to shift in your seat.

That doesn't help, if anything it makes things worse as the fabric of your panties catches and rubs against you, slick pooling between your thighs and he hasn't even done a single thing. The arrogance you know is going to fill him shouldn't be attractive, but fuck, you love Clay when he's a little less humble and little bit cocky. When he actually recognises how good he is. Because he is good, he's really fucking good at so many things and in so many ways, one being how he takes care of you.

"You alright there, baby?" It's the smirk in his tone that makes you squirm more, the overconfidence that tells you he knows how wet you are when all he's done is touch your thigh and drag you from a restaurant.

"Mmhmm..." You hum, not trusting your voice not to shake as his grip tightens on your leg, fingers dancing just a tad higher again as they slip under the skirt of your dress.

You're clamping your legs together before he can go any further, a laugh bursting from Clay because he doesn't need to feel you to know you're soaked for him. It's all there in the way you breathe shallower, the way you stop him from advancing, how you wriggle in the car seat like there's ants in your pants.

He doesn't try to wriggle his hand any higher the rest of the ride home, he doesn't need to, you're squirming enough without him touching you and he's more interested in getting you in, on the couch and kissing that lipstick off you.

There's a controlled sense of urgency to each of his movements as he pulls the car into the garage, turns the engine off and reaches for the door handle. His steps are quick and sharp as he makes his way to your side of the car, hands unbuckling you with efficiency before pulling you out and ushering you in front of him towards the house.

"Ass in the house, baby." Another swat to the ass has you gasping for third time, a glare sent over your shoulder even as it makes your centre tingle with want. Part of you wonders if his aim is to leave a hand print on one of your cheeks.

You're evidently not moving fast enough through the house for him because Clay's gripping you by the waist and all but tossing you onto your back on the couch as soon as a lamp has been turned on to provide a modicum of light.

"Clay!" You can help but laugh when he practically dives onto you, forearms resting besides you to keep most of his weight from body slamming you into the couch cushions. Still, your laughter is short lived, one of his hands curling around your calf to pull your leg over his hip as he settles himself between your legs and against you until you can feel him pressing into your centre.

"Clay..." You always get like this, whatever bravado you started the night with drifting away to be replaced by a shy sort of coyness, looking up at him underneath your lashes, cheeks filling with warmth, body squirming from nervousness. It's the intensity of him that does it, the way he stares at you so intently, blue eyes fixed on yours as he crowds you against the pillows so your world narrows to Clayton and Clayton alone.

"I want my kisses, baby," He's smirking at you, lips a hairsbreadth away from your own, his breath warm against your lips, nose brushing against yours. It's not like you didn't expect things to go this way when you put that lipstick on, but there's something about how direct Clay always is that makes you bashful every single time. The direct intensity when you were always so used to talking around the subject instead.

"Clay..."

"Need you to mark me up, baby," He pulls at the collar of his shirt to expose his neck more, chains on full display against his collarbone and you know there's no getting out of this. He's determined to have you cover him in kisses, to mark him in red lip prints until it's obvious who he belongs with. Not that you really want to get out of this, you can't help but love covering him in kisses, seeing your mark on him, knowing he's so proud to display the fact he's taken.

You're hesitant at first, amusing to him really, how you reach up to press a kiss to his cheek like it's the most scandalous thing happening right now, like he's not practically grinding his hard on into you or had his hand up your skirt tonight. Like you're not soaked. Still he closes his eyes and revels in it, in the feeling of your confidence growing as you press lipstick marks down his jaw, across his chin before hitting his neck.

Clay's always loved marking you up, but he can't help but shiver into the sensation of you doing the same to him, lowering himself till he's resting his weight against you. Groaning when you decide kiss marks aren't enough, confidence filling you at his reaction as you suck on the skin by his adam's apple until a deep purple hickey is left behind.

It's really like a switch flicks in your head when he groans like that, low in his throat, amorous. The feel of him hard and throbbing at your centre has your legs locking behind him to pull him closer, rocking against him, your hands finding their way to his hair, tugging probably a little roughly as you attack his neck with bites and kisses, sucking on each free patch of skin, laving over it with your tongue.

He practically has to tear you away from him, and when he does his skin is a patchwork quilt of purples and reds, his face littered with lipstick marks. Your lipstick is thoroughly smudge and worn away, red marks around your mouth, your eyes are hazy and blown and the way you pull him against you in an attempt to relieve the ache between your legs is enough to have him taking your mouth roughly with his own.

Clay bites hard on your bottom lip, hard enough you gasp, mouth opening on instinct and like he can't help himself his tongue slips in. He kisses like he plays hockey; hard, rough, passionate, biting and chewing on your lip like you're his mouth guard and you really can't complain, not when it has the warm feeling in your gut tightening like a knot.

He can't help it really, you've made him a Jackson Pollock painting and it's only natural that he wants the same for you, that he wants everyone to see you and know you're his, irrevocably and completely. It's only natural that once your lips are swollen and kiss bitten and you're squirming under him, that he turns his attention to the smooth and fresh expanse of your neck.

The whine you let out the moment he bites down on your neck, tongue laving at a spot until it comes up purple and bruised? That whine has Clayton grinning into your skin, rock hard in his pants as he grinds harder into you until you're moaning under him, because fuck...fuck, you're it, you're everything and it's nigh on impossible for him not to practically maul your skin, hickeys on every section until you match him. You can't stop moaning under him, whining at the way his mouth sucks marks into your skin, breaking blood vessels until he's written his status as your boyfriend on you in hickeys rather than ink.

"Clay, need you, please...fuck," You're soaking, slick between your thighs and you know your panties are sopping from the kisses that have littered your skin, from the grinding of his hips into your own. You feel hazy and dreamlike, moving on instinct against him at any moment.

The way one of his hands, the one with that goddamn ring slides down your chest, between your breasts and over your navel, makes you tug at his hair harder, his mouth still sucking hisses into your throat. Clay hitches your dress up around your waist without hesitation, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties, to find you absolutely dripping.

"Fuck, sweet girl, this all for me?" He sounds wrecked, voice deep and gravelly as his fingers slide through the wetness at your centre, thumb just barely grazing your clit, fingertips circling your slit until all you can do is moan and there's a thought there that he could cum in his pants like this, like a fucking teenager because Jesus are you hot.

You can't find the words to respond, broken moans and whines as he slips one of his thick fingers inside you, thumb circling more purposefully around your clit and the feeling in your tummy, that coil of need winding tighter and tighter.

Clay pulls back from where he'd been practically nibbling on your neck to watch your face because shit, it might just be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your mouth open, slack, moans and whines falling out like you can't help it, your neck littered in marks, a Monet of his affections...Shit, he wishes he had a camera on him.

One finger turns to two, twisting deliciously into your centre, thumb moving just slightly to the left in the way he knows makes your moans breathy and shallow as you struggle to catch your breath.

"Fuck, baby, gripping me so tight..." There's no way for you to respond, not when he's building you up higher and higher, closer to your release.

You practically arch of the bed, keening when he finds that spongy spot within you, then again, determined to hit it on each thrust of his fingers. When you manage to open your eyes, just slightly, he's smirking down at you, free hand reaching to grip your throat, not tight, just holding, thumb caressing just underneath your jaw.

"Cum for me, baby, you can do that right? You can be a good girl and let go for me, can't you?"

That's really all it takes for your vision to go white, your body to tense before completely relaxing, going boneless as you orgasm. Just his voice, gravely and over confident in your ear, the way he takes your ear into his mouth before nipping behind it. Your nails digging into his shoulders so hard he's sure he's going to have half moon circles imprinted there.

"There's my good girl...did so good, baby..." Clay presses kisses to your temple, your forehead, over your cheeks as you come down from your high, trying to catch your breath.

You wince a little, oversensitive, as Clay removes his hand from your centre and he's quick to press more kisses to your cheeks, "I know, baby, too sensitive, huh?" It's one of those nights where he can see that that's enough, your body not currently comfortable for more. One orgasm more than enough for now.

"But..." You start to protest but he knows it's not because you want more, it's because you feel guilty that he's still throbbing in pants, not having cum.

"I'm fine, baby, don't worry about it."

"But, you haven't cum, yet..." He's still hard against your thigh and you go to reach for him but his hands are gently grabbing your wrists pinning them by your head with a soft smile.

"You can make me feel good later, baby, if you feel up to it." It's his compromise because he knows you're oversensitive right now, can see it in the way you wince when your hips shift. He knows if he tries to get inside you right now you won't enjoy it and there's one thing Clayton cares most about when it comes to sex and that is your enjoyment. He'd rather die than have you uncomfortable in an effort to please him.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, baby" He laughs, smiling down at you, "Just want to get you comfy and cuddle, yeah? I'm good." The smirk from earlier, the cocky overconfidence is replaced by softness, the sort of smile that makes you feel warm and fuzzy, his dimples on full display. His chain and a few strands of his hair dangling between the two you, making him look perfectly dishevelled, like it was planned.

"Okay..." It's the soft smile you give him that reminds him how easy it is to make those choices, to put you first because God, you're so grateful every time like it's not the least he can do. Like prioritising your comfort and wellbeing isn't the standard.

It reminds him that not every man you've been with has treated you the way you deserve and it's what makes his touch oh so gentle when he guides you up off the bed and helps you get changed for bed. Every move he makes is tender from the way he slides your dress off to the way he helps you step into your favourite pair of sweatpants. Even the care he takes him helping you wipe your make up off is slow, gentle to the extreme.

He helps you brush your hair, you insisting you look in the mirror at the same time, complaining that you look like he's mauled you to which Clayton laughs and simply gestures to his own neck, just as littered in hickeys. He doesn't even try to wipe red lipstick marks you've left on his skin off, smirking happily when he notices them.

You whack his arm when you notice the smirk and all he has to say in response is, "I like everyone knowing I'm yours, baby." The sort of response that has you unable to respond, too flustered as he pulls you into bed and against his chest.

As wriggle back against him, cocooned in his arms, he can't help but think he needs to have you mark his skin every day, so there's never a moment he goes without a mottled collection of hickeys across his skin. So that he's always got your mark on his skin.

#18+ mdni #huggy bear writes #clayton keller/reader #clayton keller x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

75 notes · View notes

duckybarnes1917 · 2 days ago

Text

Bad Idea, Right?

18+ Only

Ex-boyfriend! Gojo x Reader

Summary: You left Gojo Satoru for a reason. He wasn't reliable. He wasn't serious about building a future together. He was always gone. But one thing he was...amazing in bed. Much better than your new husband. Could anyone really blame you for falling back into his bed just one more time?

Warnings: The only actual trigger warning is this fic contains cheating. Reader is cheating on her husband with Gojo. It's angsty. Other than that...it's smut...be pleasantly surprised 😘

AN: This is my first time writing in the JJK fandom! I just finished season 1 a couple of days ago so this fic is based on limited knowledge of the characters! Happy Valentine's Day! Oh and I took liberties with the powers and such!

Thinking about ex-boyfriend Gojo, who you can’t help but call. Dealing with his infuriatingly cocky attitude is worth it for the way he fucks you like no one else can. Every time you fell into his bed, you swore it wouldn’t happen again, especially now that you were newly married. You didn’t love your new husband, but he was rich, and he took care of you. You married him hoping to secure a future for yourself–and hoping the sex would get better–you could teach him, right? Gojo wasn’t that special– right?

Wrong.

It had been a month since you got married and as many times as you tried to teach your new husband what you liked, what turned you on, he just couldn’t get it right. Tonight had been your last straw, you had tried so hard to be patient. He was doing better, but he had finished before you got off. And then had the audacity to fall asleep.

You shot a glare his way as you climbed out of bed noisily and slunk off to the bathroom. The door slammed behind you and you waited for any kind of response. You got nothing from the other side of the door but more heavy snores.

The drawer across the bathroom, where you kept your toys, was calling your name. You knew it wouldn’t be the same, but what choice did you have? Maybe if you set the mood, it would be better. You turned off the overhead light, lit a candle, and listened to soft music on your phone. Still, you stared at the toys in the drawer with disappointment. Your most trusted wand was waiting for you on top, and you sighed as you picked it up.

You tried to block him, to picture anyone else except for him as you worked the toy over your sensitive flesh. But there was no one else. And you were too close to the edge to care anymore. You let him flood your thoughts. His hands, his scent, his voice, his mouth–the toy died in your hand and you let out a groan of despair.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” you nearly yelled in frustration. No, you were beyond frustrated. You were aching, and desperate, and only one name was running through your mind.

“Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed your phone off the counter and opened his contact. The last message from him was dated a little over a month ago. A slight tickle of shame nagged at you, but your fingers pressed on.

You up?

His typing bubble appeared immediately. And you bit your lip anxiously, excitedly, as you waited for his response.

Be there in 5 minutes.

Maybe less.

You rolled your eyes at the fact that he didn’t even try to pretend you were texting him for anything else. Despite your annoyance, your body clenched in anticipation. You bent over the sink to splash cold water on your face–you couldn’t stand to face him so achingly desperate, you needed to cool down. Just as you were thinking you should probably go wait for him on the porch–because he was obnoxious enough to ring the doorbell at three in the morning–he suddenly appeared behind you in the mirror, that obnoxious grin on his face. His big hand covered your mouth before you could scream.

“Don’t want to wake hubby before I even get you off,” Gojo teased in your ear before he let you go and spun you around to face him.

He wore his familiar deep blue-black uniform, a black blindfold over his eyes that held his white hair perfectly in place. He always towered over you, but you felt smaller than usual in nothing but your robe, looking up at him from where he was caging you against the marble sink. Even in your dark bathroom, with only the light of one candle to guide your sight, his beauty still struck you in all the right places.

“Fuck you,” you huffed as you pushed his chest. He didn’t move, unaffected by your attempt.

He grabbed your wrist before you could pull it back. “Well, hello to you too.” He leaned in closer, his grin spreading wider and you held your breath, prepared for his lips to meet yours. But he pulled back quickly and moved next to you to lean against the counter.

“So,” he dragged the word out as he crossed his arms. “What's up?” He could barely keep the smile off his face as he toyed with you.

“Satoru,” you crossed your arms, mirroring him.

He simply raised one arched white brow, waiting. Was he really going to make you say it? Asshole.

“You know why I called you,” you grumbled.

He tapped his chin with one long finger, humming in thought. “A chat? Is your dishwasher broken again? Oh, I know,” he snapped his long fingers and jumped up from the counter. You winced at the volume of his voice. “You want a rematch on Mario Kart! Sore loser.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, anxiously glancing at the bathroom door, “dumbass.” You were starting to regret this already.

“Would it have anything to do with this?”

You turned back to him and found that he had moved to the other end of the counter where you had left your drawer open, your failed toy now in his hand.

“Hey, don’t touch my stuff!” You moved to snatch it back from him, but of course, he easily moved it out of your reach.

He waved it tauntingly at you before he pushed the button to turn it on.

“Doesn’t work very well,” he fake pouted. “Need some help?”

You swallowed your desire to fight him. “Yes,” you answered, just barely above a whisper.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that sweets.” Gojo leaned down as if to hear you better.

You clenched your hands into fists. “I called you because I thought you would get me off, not talk my ear off.”

“What do you take me for?” Gojo straightened himself, his hand on his chest. “I’m not a whore, you could have at least made me dinner first.”

“Seriously, Satoru, fuck you. I don’t even–”

“Where?” He cut you off and tilted his head as if he was thinking about it. The playfulness was seeping away as he stepped closer to you. “Should I fuck you right here, keep you quiet so your husband doesn’t hear?” The word husband rolled off his tongue with a mixture of annoyance and glee that you knew meant he was getting off on this more than he should be. “Or take you back to my place so you can be as loud as you want?”

Your mouth opened to answer him, to give him the only logical answer, but no sound came out. You hated this effect he had on you.

“What do you want, sweets?” He moved closer, lifting you with ease onto the bathroom sink. His fingers trailed up your thigh under your robe and you opened your legs for him, trying to force him to make the decision. You were not in the mood to think right now.

He smirked and moved his fingers teasingly up your inner thigh and over your hip instead of where you wanted him.

“Toru,” you pouted, too wound up for his teasing. “I want your mouth–please,” you added on the please to try to win him over. The word felt like broken glass in your mouth.

Gojo’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you nearly whined.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do, sweets.” Gojo leaned in and placed his lips at your ear as his fingers finally started to explore where you needed him most. He paused, losing his words for a moment, and you felt your cheeks heat at how wet he found you–how needy.

He cleared his throat once and continued, “You’re gonna come on my fingers like a good girl right here in this room next to your sleeping husband. And then I’ll take you home and fuck you however I want for as long as I want.”

His long fingers were already inside of you–you would have agreed to anything he said. You nodded your head frantically as you gripped his shoulder. “More, faster,” you were trying to be quiet, but when he added a third finger, the sound that came out of your mouth was foreign to your ears.

“Fuck, I like you desperate,” Gojo’s voice was husky in your ear. All traces of his playful attitude were gone as he expertly crooked his long fingers inside you.

“I’m close,” you gasped. “Don’t stop.”

“Already?” He teased. “He’s not taking care of my pretty little pussy at all, is he?”

You wanted to argue with him. No part of you was his . But you both knew you would have been lying. Your head hit the bathroom cabinet as your hips arched up, trying to get even closer to him. You covered your mouth as you came on his fingers. His smooth voice faded in and out, praising you as your ears rang. Before you could come back down to earth, your surroundings shifted as he teleported you both to his apartment.

Your back hit his soft bed, and you immediately reached for him, pulling him closer to you as you devoured his mouth. He tasted sweet, and you imagined he had been eating candy before he appeared in your home. His tongue worked against yours deliberately, sliding across the roof of your mouth and you knew he was teasing you on purpose. You wrapped your legs around his waist and moved your hands to his face. The sticky substance your hand came into contact with on his cheek made you pause and pull back.

“Toru, what the fuck?” You sat up as he began laughing. He flipped on the light and you gasped at the blood on your hand and over his face. “What the fuck?!”

You jumped off the bed and ran to his bathroom. He was still laughing as he followed you.

“It’s just a little blood. Don’t freak out. I was working when you called.”

You scrubbed your hands furiously in the sink as you glared at him in the mirror. “Why the fuck would you answer your phone if you were on a mission?!”

Gojo wasn’t fighting. He was sitting with his back against a tree trunk, long legs stretched in front of him and a bag of sour candy in his hand. He watched his students work together to exorcise a curse. It was well within their ability to handle it, with a little guidance from him. He had already handled the more serious threats–it got a little messy, but it was easy work.

He smiled proudly as Itadori landed a skilled hit. Then his phone buzzed, and he glanced at it quickly. It was probably just Ijichi asking for an update on the reports he was behind on. He had to do a double-take to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating your name on his screen.

Nope.

Not crazy.

It was you.

“YES!!” He yelled, jumping to his feet and pumping his fist in the air.

“What is it?!” Itadori yelled from across the field, blocking an attack, as he looked back at Gojo with concern.

“Gotta go! You got this team!”

“What?!” Itadori and Kugisaki yelled. “Where are you going?!”

“Don’t bother asking,” Fushiguro said with the knowledge of someone who had spent plenty of time dealing with Gojo and his antics.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, bye! Proud of you!” Gojo gave them one last wave before he disappeared. They’d be fine. He had waited too long for this…okay like a month.. but still that was much too long.

“It wasn’t a big deal. My students are taking care of it,” Gojo shrugged.

“Jesus,” you muttered as you wrung out a washcloth and turned to clean his face. “I could have waited.”

“Please,” Gojo scoffed as he took the washcloth and cleaned the places you were too short to reach on your tiptoes. “You practically came as soon as I touched you.”

“I really hate you.”

You snatched the washcloth back from him and threw it on the sink for him to deal with later. The heat of his gaze followed you as you walked back to his bedroom, dropping your robe on the way.

“I know.” Gojo smiled at you as you laid back on his bed. “Need something, sweets?”

You groaned and sat up on your elbows to glare at him. “You can not seriously be as unaffected as you pretend to be.”

You couldn’t see his eyes, hidden under his blindfold, but something shifted momentarily on his face. It made you shiver.

“I asked you a question.” He crossed his arms as he leaned against the door frame. “Or I can send you back home?” He raised his fingers in threat.

“No!” You glared at him again. “I need you, Toru. Need your mouth, please.”

“Good girl,” he smirked but finally made his way to where you lay on his bed. He kissed you gently before trailing his lips down your neck, your chest, and over your stomach.

This is what you had missed the most about him. His damned mouth was both the bane of your existence and your personal nirvana. Your husband didn’t share Gojo’s talents or desire in that department. The few times he had even offered to go down on you had left you more frustrated than pleased.

Gojo’s big hands held your hips down as he teased your belly button with his tongue. “Tell me I’m the best.”

“Wh–what?” You nearly laughed even as you were trying not to moan.

“You heard me.” His mouth moved lower and goosebumps erupted over your skin as his breath hit your swollen clit.

“Toru, please,” you breathed out, body tense.

“Say it.” His fingers entered you slowly, hitting that spot that made your toes curl with ease.

Fuck him. Seriously.

“Come on sweets, I’ll make you feel so good, just tell me–”

His breath on your clit had you close already.

“Fuck! Just—” he blew cool air on your clit and you lifted your hips in desperation. “You’re the best, Toru, fuck , you fuck me so good!”

“Better than your husband?”

“Yes!” You pulled on his hair, urging him forward. “So much fucking better it’s not fair.”

His mouth wrapped around your clit, and you came instantly. Thighs shaking around his head as he moaned against you. His tongue replaced his fingers as he drank you up. It truly wasn’t fair how easy this was for him. And how were you ever supposed to move on knowing that this was one text away, anytime you wanted it?

Gojo’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, spreading them further apart as he lost himself in you. His once teasing tongue, now filling you so nicely that you were babbling nonsense. Praising him like you never would normally. But you would have said anything to keep his mouth right where it was. The arrogant asshole had the biggest praise kink you had ever seen.

“It’s so good, Toru,” you whimpered. “You feel so good, fuck!” You buried your hand in his white hair as your hips bucked up, grinding against his face.

He pulled back, and you whined at the loss of sensation.

“Aww, you wanna ride my face sweets?”

You nodded and watched with rapt attention as he stood and undressed himself. He grabbed the high collar of his jacket with his teeth as he yanked the zipper down. The rest of his clothes disappeared just as quickly. You gulped at the sight of his cock, heavy and ready for you.

“Focus,” Gojo pointed to his face and your eyes snapped up. He laid back on the bed and beckoned you forward. He was beautiful, as always, all lean-toned muscle and ridiculous abs. You could have stared at him for hours, spent even longer worshipping every part of him. But right now, you have one sole purpose. Your eyes moved to your prize. His pretty mouth, smirking at you. “Come on sweets.” His words are honeyed and tempting.

Hurriedly, you crawled over him until you hovered over his ridiculously handsome face. His hands splayed over your waist, ready to pull you to him.

“Wait,” you paused him and ran your fingers over his blindfold. “Can I?”

“Always.”

You pushed the silk black blindfold off his face, revealing his sparkling blue eyes. They were dilated with hunger that made your thighs clench.

“You’re so pretty Toru.”

He didn’t give you time to regret the words.

“Not as pretty as you, sweets. Now come on, ride my face like I know you’ve been dreaming about.”

“Cocky bastard,” you muttered as you sat on his face, not giving him a chance to respond.

Even you had to admit that riding his pretty face, hand buried in that pretty hair, staring into those pretty eyes–he had the right to be cocky. How could anyone else ever compete with this?

You were close, thighs clenching around his head. You looked back to watch him stroke himself–knowing he needed this too made you come all over his pretty face.

He groaned against you, moving both his hands to your waist to hold you in place while he fucked you through your orgasm.

“God, fuck that was good,” you sighed as you slid off of him. You intended to ask for a break, your legs felt like jello and you were sensitive after so many orgasms back to back. But Gojo had other ideas. He flipped you onto your stomach and lifted your hips, he was inside you before you could protest.

“Fuck sweets,” he groaned, “you feel so good every damn time.”

His cock was too much. The stretch burned, and his blunt tip hit the perfect spot with every thrust of his hips.

“Too much–Toru” you gasped as he gave you another sharp thrust.

“You can take it,” he answered, his body weight falling on you as he ran his tongue over the shell of your ear. His hand wrapped around your throat, two long fingers dipping into your mouth. “ You called me. You’ll take what I give you, yeah sweets?”

Seriously, fuck him.

You hummed around his fingers and nodded.

“Good girl,” he pulled his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. “Take it, know you need it.”

He moved his hips faster, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. He felt so good–otherworldly. Exactly what you had been craving. You couldn’t breathe, he stole each breath with each thrust of his hips. He leaned over you again and intertwined his hands with yours. You felt his lips as they began a path on your left shoulder, leaving searing kisses down your arm.

“Fucking perfect. Just being wasted. I’d never let you out of my bed. Mine.” A sloppy kiss followed each word until he reached your wrist. You turned your head to watch him as he kissed the ring on your finger, running his long tongue over it. It was too much, you had to close your eyes as pure pleasure melted your brain. Stars twinkled behind your eyes and you couldn’t stop the tears born of ecstasy anymore.

“Aww, are you cryin’?” His cocky voice should have made you want to punch him, but you were teetering on the edge of another orgasm. His tongue licked up your tears and you shattered around him. “So good for me, sweets.”

Gojo pulled out and flipped you onto your back. His gaze devoured you from head to toe before he met your teary eyes again. His fingers brushed your cheek gently. “Need one more, sweets, just one more. You can do that for me, right?”

You couldn’t speak, you made a small noise of consent and he rewarded you with a smile.

“You’d do anything I asked, wouldn’t you?” He nipped at your skin, tongue teasing your breast while he pushed your thigh up. “So pliant,” he spoke mostly to himself as you closed your eyes and let him slide into you again. “You don’t let him fuck you like this, do you?”

You knew he was talking about the lack of protection. You also knew the answer he was hoping for and you couldn’t give it to him. You wanted kids, he knew that. Gojo had never offered the security you needed from him–he was always gone, always so flippant about everything. He was never going to be marriage material. That’s why you had left him in the first place.

You felt his smile fade against your skin as he sat up to look at you.

“Not yet, but Toru–I’m off the pill. You knew I wanted this.”

His face darkened, and you saw a hint of anger in his blue eyes. He didn’t say anything as he lifted your leg and put it over his chiseled shoulder. His pace had slowed, but he was hitting those deep spots inside you that only he had explored. Finally, he took a breath and leaned back down to your ear. “Gonna send you back to him full of my cum. Full of my babies.”

You gasped even as your pussy clenched around him, betraying you. “You can’t,” you tried to argue.

“You want it, I can feel it.”

You did want it, both the feeling of him cumming inside you and his kids. But you’d never let him know that second truth.

“I hate you,” you whimpered against his lips, tears brimming your eyes again.

“I know, I know, I hate me too.”

He didn’t give you time to question what that meant. He quickened his pace, fucking you so hard you couldn’t form words if you had tried.

Your back arched off the bed as you moaned for him.

“Hold on sweets, not yet.” He lifted you off the bed and held you in his lap. He helped your hips move faster than you could manage on your own. He watched your breasts bounce for a moment, eyes transfixed, before he took one in his warm mouth. Your whole body was so sensitive, you cried out for him and one of his big hands moved to squeeze your free breast. He was messy, a string of saliva connecting him to you as he moved his mouth from your tits to your neck. He was going to leave a bruise, you could feel it.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped. “You have to–I can’t take anymore.”

“I said not yet,” he growled against your throat. “I’m not ready to be done with you. Not yet.”

Me neither.

You wanted to say.

I never want to be done with you.

But you said nothing. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hid your face in his snowy white hair.

Your world shifted, and you gasped as you suddenly found yourself back in your bedroom–in your bed–your husband still peacefully asleep right next to where Gojo was laying you back on your pillow.

“Toru, what the fuck?!” you whisper-shouted at him as you hit his chest. He simply laughed, loud and annoying. You shot a panicked look at your husband, but he didn’t move at all.

“Don’t worry, sweets, he won’t bother us.” Gojo put your legs back where they belonged, over his shoulders, and resumed his brutal pace.

Your headboard rattled, and the sound of his hips snapping against yours filled the room. Still, your husband slept as if nothing was happening. You didn’t question it–Gojo had his ways. You couldn’t possibly think straight with how well he was fucking you, anyway. You dropped your head back and squeezed your eyes closed against the pleasure curling low in your stomach.

“Do you think about me when he fucks you?”

“Yes!” you answered with zero hesitation, and you felt him shiver under your hands. “Always you.”

“I hate you,” he groaned quietly, painfully.

“I–” you couldn’t think of a response to that line, which usually only came out of your mouth. You couldn’t think of anything but how deep inside you he was.

“Come on, sweets,” his normal voice was back, cocky and needy. “Come all over my cock.” Gojo’s finger rubbed tight circles on your clit and you groaned.

“God, fuck, fuck , Jesus !”

“Say my name,” he panted against your mouth. “Say it, fucking say it.”

Satoru.

Satoru!

You couldn’t stop saying it.

“I’m cumming,” you gasped, “Toru, fuck!” You continued chanting his name and you could tell he was close, too. His thrusts got sloppy, and he whined in your ear when you pulled his hair.

“Don’t make me stop,” he groaned, planting sloppy kisses on your neck.

You should. You absolutely should make him stop.

“Don’t,” you whimpered, “don’t stop, Toru.”

“Fuck,” he moved from where he was hiding his face against your neck and pulled your head back to look at him. “Say it. Louder.”

He was frantic, his eyes so dilated, that you could just barely see a ring of blue. His tongue swiped at your lips in a messy kiss.

You never stood a chance.

“Come inside me, Toru. Please. Please, fill me up. Want it, need you.”

“Fuck yes, take it,” he panted against your lips as he came. “Such a good girl took me so well.”

You whimpered against his lips as he gave you a few more sloppy kisses before pulling out of you. He laid on his side, propped up on his elbow to smile cockily at you.

“You’re a sick fuck, you know that.” You glanced over at your husband, who still hadn’t moved.

Gojo smiled and shrugged his shoulder. “You’ve called me worse.” He swiped his fingers through your folds, pushing his cum back inside and then licking his fingers clean.

You stared at him in awe and hatred, no words coming out of your mouth.

“Mmm,” he hummed as he laid his head on your chest. “What a great night. Killed some curses, had amazing sex, and I get to collect on my bet with Kento. I told him you’d cave in less than 6 weeks.”

Heat prickled up your spine. If you hadn’t been so blissfully fucked out, you would have thrown him off of you. You settled for pulling his hair hard until he babbled out an apology.

“Idiot,” you hissed as you let him go.

“Kidding,” he rubbed the back of his head as he frowned. “Come on, shower.”

He hopped out of your bed like nothing was amiss and when you didn’t follow, he came back and picked you up as if you weighed nothing.

“Sorry, forgot you probably can’t walk right now.”

Too tired to argue with him any longer, you snuggled against his neck and let him carry you to the shower. You let him bathe you and dress you and carry you back to bed. You were half asleep by the time he laid you down on your pillow. That didn’t stop you from laughing at the sight of him in your robe. He didn’t think to teleport clothes with him.

“Shush,” Gojo pulled your comforter up to your chin, and you nuzzled against your pillow, inhaling his scent now embedded in the fabric.

“Thank you,” you whispered as he kissed you.

“Anytime, sweets.”

“Last time,” you mumbled. “Go get a girlfriend.”

“Not likely,” he chuckled. “I’ll wait for you.”

He meant he’d wait for your next text, for your resolve to break again. That’s it. You wouldn’t let yourself believe anything else.

You felt him brush your hair back, a whisper of a kiss placed on your temple.

You reached for him, to pull him closer, but your fist closed around air. You opened your eyes to find him gone, just as quickly as he had appeared.

Gojo teleported back to his apartment before he said anything else stupid. He should change and go to sleep. But being alone was…hard. The silence in his apartment felt like it was choking him. His laissez-faire attitude worked best with an audience.

Quickly, he put his uniform back on and secured his blindfold over his eyes. After a quick text to Kento to pay up, he teleported back to the field he had left his students in. Thankfully, they were still there. The curse was almost exorcised. They did not need his help at all. He could make himself feel better by watching their growth and achievements. Or…he could kill something.

Gojo removed his blindfold as he let himself float off the ground. The cursed energy that coursed through him built and built as he thought about you. He shouldn’t have gone. He told himself that every time. And every time he left you feeling shitty he told himself that next time he wouldn’t answer. He remembered the way he had literally leaped for joy at your text. Idiot .

“Gojo?”

Itadori’s voice from below. He’d be disappointed he didn’t get to finish the job. But Gojo couldn’t stop the cursed energy as it flew from his hands. The curse exploded into a million messy bits with a scream of horror. Gojo winced as blood splattered him from head to toe. He glanced down at the kids. Fushiguro was shaking blood out of his long hair and he could practically see the steam coming out of Kugisaki’s ears.

“Ice cream?” Gojo asked cheerily, a big fake smile on his face. They ran to him as his feet found the Earth again.

“Yes!” Itadori exclaimed.

“What the hell was that?!” Kugisaki yelled, her hands balled into angry fists.

“Where did you go?” Fushiguro asked quietly as Gojo led the way to the black car waiting for them.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Fushiguro fell quiet but looked up at him again hesitantly. “Are you okay? You looked…scary up there. And that curse was practically exorcised already.”

Gojo ground his teeth. Now the kid chooses to get talkative. He looked down at Fushiguro and almost blew him off again. But the kid looked so earnest. Gojo put his arm around him and pulled him closer.

“I did something I shouldn’t have. Something selfish.”

“That’s not new.”

“I suppose not,” Gojo sighed. The ache in his chest had only been slightly dulled. Too bad there wasn’t another curse lurking around to kill.

“How are you going to fix it?”

Gojo hummed, pondering. “Well, I guess when you love something, sometimes you have to let it go. I’ve been too selfish to do that.”

“Something or someone?”

Gojo flinched as Itadori popped up on his other side, big curious eyes boring into his face.

“ That’s why you left?” Kugisaki groaned. “Ew.”

“That’s not–no I–” Gojo stuttered, and they all broke into a fit of giggles. Even Fushiguro had a smile on his face.

“No ice cream for any of you.” Gojo stomped off, leaving their pleas and apologies behind him.

You had always thought that his love for his job and his students meant he would make a great father. You never understood why he never wanted that with you. It hurt you and he hated it. Hated that it cost him everything. But you never understood that his job was exactly why he couldn’t have that future with you. He couldn’t be there for you and you deserved someone who could.

He sat in the car, staring at your contact on his phone. The next time you called, he wouldn’t answer. His finger slid across the screen and pressed the red delete button next to your name.

His heart felt like it had been exorcised. A big empty hole in his chest that could never be repaired. He heaved a sigh, clutching his phone so tightly that it was a wonder it didn’t shatter, and said, “Last time.”

He loved you enough to give you that.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo #jjk #jjk smut #saturo gojo x reader #saturo smut #gojo saturo

97 notes · View notes

blastiebabe · 2 days ago

Text

just paint my nails, damn it

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

It was a tiring day, you are currently in your dorm room lying in your bed, scrolling though your phone. The training with Aizawa and All Might earlier have drained almost all of your energy. Just when you are about to close the app where you were bingeing, your phone vibrates. A message from Katsuki.

Katsuki:

my room. now.

You roll your eyes by his sudden authoritative text that is actually isn't new to you. It isn't also the first time that Katsuki asked you to be in his room, over the course of the two of you training together, to studying together, eating together, really, being inside in his room together isn't that surprising.

You and Katsuki hangs out almost everyday, maybe as friends (?) But in your perspective, Katsuki is becoming more than that for you. And you don't know what to feel about it. Hell for sure that explosive dude doesn't even see you as a woman. Therefore, these days, you have been trying to avoid being alone with him. Not that he will let you do so like what he is doing now.

After rolling your eyes, you type a response.

You:

nah, too tired.

Katsuki:

too tired my ass. come. now.

You:

Kats, I'm tired

Katsuki:

and that's why you should come here

For the nth time, you rolled your eyes reading that message. You see, this kind of things is what makes you think there can be a possibility between you both. You left him on read and was about to turn your phone off and just ignore him when it vibrates again, receiving another message.

Katsuki:

please?

You groan as you reach for your hair in frustration. Damn it why is it so hard to say no to that damn explosive man? You stood up, bringing only your phone and going straight into his room wearing pjs, you didn't even knock. You opened the door abruptly.

"What the fuck do you want?" You ask with both your hands crossed to each other. You find Katsuki sitting at the floor of his room beside his bed, in front of him is a coffee table and on top of it are nail polish and other shit that one uses when painting and cleaning nails.

"Well hello to you too, ma'am." Katsuki says without even batting an eye on you, focusing on looking at the colors of nail polish in front of him.

You come inside his room, closing the door, then sits in front of him. "Katsuki, what is it? I just wanna rest for fuck's sa-"

"What color should I paint my nails with?" Katsuki asks, completely disregarding your crash out. He holds up in your face 2 small bottles of nail polish, one is black, the other one is orange.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask, completely irritated at how he is treating you when he was the one who asked you to come here when you told him you wanted to rest. "Katsuki, I don't have time to do this, I just want to rest. I'm going back." You say before you try to stand up.

"You're not goin' anywhere." Katsuki says firmly, holding your wrist when you were about to stand up. He sits you back down.

"What are you-"

"Calm the fuck down. Give me a minute." Katsuki says before standing up ang going to his study table. He grabs a food tray, with a bowl of katsudon and a tea and water beside it. Katsuki brings it in front of you.

You look at him, trying to put your questions into words but none came out. When he realized you were struggling, he spoke. "The nerd told me you haven't eaten dinner yet. What are you, a dumbass?"

"What-"

"Eat, the only way to bring your energy back is to eat. So, calm the fuck down and eat." Katsuki says before focusing on the nail polish before him again.

You look at Katsuki and the food, then back to Katsuki, then the food, then Katsuki. "Did you make these?"

"What do you think?" He says without looking up at you.

"Aww, Kats that so sweet-"

"That ain't free, dumbass. You're coloring my nails." He says looking at you. You see the corner of his ears turning pink. Shit, that made your cheeks red too.

You proceed on eating dinner, while Katsuki tries to entertain himself by doing random things while waiting for you. After your last bite, Katsuki still haven't decided what color he should paint his nails. You thank him for the food he has prepared, and you bring the tray back on his study table.

You get back on your position drinking water and looks at Katsuki busy on trying to figure out his nail polish. You stare at him for a brief moment, then smiles. Suddenly all the tiredness washed out of you.

You grab the black nail polish, reached for his left hand and put it above the table while holding four of his fingers, studying it closely, thinking of a technique to color it perfectly. For sure Katsuki would not want anything less than perfect.

"The hell are you doing?" Katsuki asks, looking at you staring at his fingers. You see the subtle redness in his cheeks.

You smile. "Paying you back." You speak. "Black suits you the best, Kats. I have always loved seeing black on you."

Katsuki is trying his damned best to fight all his face muscles and not to smile by that sudden compliment from you. You laugh at this reaction from him. Seeing Katsuki flustered is an opportunity only presented for you, so not making the most out of it is a sin.

"Are you just asking me to color your nails so you can hold my hand?" You tease him.

"What the-?" Katsuki was startled by what you just said. Looking at your teasing expression, he groans. His cheeks redder than earlier. "Just paint my nails, damn it."

You laugh.

Oh, bloody hell, falling for this guy might not be as bad as you think.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ more of katsuki, here! ♡

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugo #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugo katuski #bakugo x reader #katsuki #bakugo katsuki x you

99 notes · View notes

sheerfreesia007 · 2 days ago

Text

New Cat Mama

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word count: 2,348

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You get paired up with Lee Know for your valentine’s date and his first two questions are do you like cats and are you allergic to them? You’re left wondering what kind of date he has planned for the two of you.

A/N: Divider was created by @enchanthings-a, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

The first flyer you saw hung up around your college made excitement course through you as your eyes danced along the words. Valentine’s Date Match Up Event! Submit your email address to the student council and be matched up for a date this Valentine’s Day! Your friends had teased you about how excited you were for the event, but you couldn’t help it when you had always liked the idea of being paired up with someone blindly for a date. The idea of matchmaking was always something that interested you and couldn’t stop your excitement over this event. When the student council set up their tables around campus towards the middle of January you hurriedly went up to one and began talking to one of the student council members about the event.

”So is there a certain criteria for the matches?” You asked curiously to the guy who was sitting at the table. You easily filled your email address onto the list on the clipboard before looking up at him.

”The IT department has helped us create a filter where we can input your major and your email address and the filter will pair you up with someone from an opposing major. We couldn’t really go much further in depth with that without running into privacy violations.” He explained and you nodded your head along with his explanation. “But don’t worry everyone that has signed up to be matched will only communicate with you through your school email unless you agree to share your cell phone number.” He said reassuringly, causing you to smile softly at him before nodding your head.

After learning all that you could about the event you quickly rushed off to your next class feeling eager for your match to contact you. Your stomach fluttered with excitement and nerves as you wondered who you would be matched with and whether or not you would get along with them.

As the weeks passed you wonder when you would be contacted by your match and if you had already been matched up with someone. But as time continued to move on you started to worry that you wouldn’t be matched up with someone or that your information had been lost somehow and you wouldn’t be involved in the event. Just as the first week of February started you were at your wits end when you suddenly received an email from Leeknowsaurus with the subject Be My Valentine? You were so shocked and instantly giddy when you saw the email that you quickly opened it.

The email was slightly disappointing for you as all it did was introduce himself to you and ask you two questions: do you like cats and are you allergic to them? You had sent off a confused response introducing yourself as well and letting him know that you did in fact like cats and weren’t allergic to them. His next email came quickly and you chuckled softly at the excitement that was implied with his written words that he had been paired up with someone who liked his favorite animal and wasn’t allergic to them. He then told you that he planned a lunch date at a cat cafe for the two of you but also if you were up to it he was going to volunteer at his favorite local cat shelter for a few hours beforehand and you could join him there to extend the date longer, but that was only if you wanted to. The smile that had lit up your face after reading his email stayed with you long after you had sent your reply to him and you couldn’t help the giddiness of your date for Valentine’s Day.

The morning of February 14th found you bundled up in your warmest hoodie and winter jacket as you walked to the Cat Tails Shelter. You had been texting Minho for a week now in your downtime between classes learning everything and anything about him before your date. You had found out that he was a dance major and excelling in his coursework as he worked on his dance routine for his final presentation this semester. It was going to be an interpretive dance routine and he was still stuck on the ending of it. You had shared with him your own Neuroscience major and all the medical journals that you had been published in already which had impressed him greatly. The two of you got along great over text messages and you found yourself at ease and not as nervous for your date as you thought you would have been but you figured it was due to all the texting between the two of you that made you feel this way.

As you walked down the sidewalk towards the shelter you held onto two coffee cups one in each hand. After learning from Minho what his favorite coffee drink was, you had figured you’d treat him to it this morning before the two of you went into the shelter. He had asked you to arrive earlier so that the two of you could help open the shelter with the employees there so you figured you’d both have enough time to share a coffee together before getting to work.

You spotted a young man standing in front of the shelter bundled up in a winter jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck as he looked up and down the sidewalk. Your eyes widened slightly when you got a look at his side profile and saw how handsome he was. His sharp nose caught your attention before your eyes darted down to his upturned mouth and you felt attraction grip onto you tightly.

“Minho?” you greeted him unsurely as you stepped up to his side and he flinched away from you with surprise causing you to chuckle softly at his actions immediately thinking he acted more like a startled cat then anything. When he turned to you with wide eyes you blushed softly as his eyes darted up and down your form for a second before landing on your face with a warm sparkle in them.

“Good morning!” he greeted you happily and you grinned at him as well before handing him his drink order.

“Good morning, here this is for you.” you say in explanation and he thankfully takes the drink already sipping at it with a pleased sigh.

“Thank you, I needed this. Didn’t have time to grab one on my way here. I was a little worried that you’d beat me here.” he said and you smiled softly at his concern and worry. “Ahhh, that’s so good.” he said after taking a sip before cupping his hands around the cup.

“So how many of these kitties know you on a personal level?” you ask excitedly and he smiles cheekily at your question as he shifts closer to you.

“All of them.” he admits softly and you smile warmly at him before tilting your head to the side.

“How often do you come and volunteer at the shelter?” you ask curiously and he ducks his head slightly at your question.

“I try to come a few times a month to help out. But some months I’m only able to make it once or twice depending on my course load and if I have a dance competition or project going on.” he tells you and you nod your head at him with a soft smile on your face.

“That’s really admirable of you Minho.” you say impressed and watch delightedly as his eyes widen and his ears turn red with a blush before he stares down at the ground.

“I have three cats at home.” he blurts out and you blink at him for a moment before smiling softly at him and he ducks his head once more. “I like cats and this is the shelter where I got two of the three of mine. So I like to come and volunteer at the shelter that gave me my babies.” he says softly almost as if he doesn’t want to share this information but needs to to explain why he volunteers here. Your answer smile is sweet and kind which shocks him for a moment before his ears flush once more.

“That’s really sweet Minho.” you say softly in awe of his kind nature. “And I’m sure the shelter employees are thankful for your help.” you say with a firm nod of your head. He smiles proudly at your words before there’s a happy cry from behind you. You turn around and spot an older woman opening the front door of the shelter with a wide happy smile on her face.

“Good morning Minho! A pleasure as always. Who have you brought with you?” she greets him and asks while opening the door wider to let him inside.

“I’ve brought a date to help with the kitties today.” he says excitedly and happily before grabbing onto your hand and pulling you with him inside.

It’s a few hours later and you’ve helped the staff with getting all the kitties out of their cages and into the appropriate open rooms where they can roam around while people come in to view them to make a decision on which one to adopt. You’ve helped the staff file paperwork, make numerous call backs to people who are interested in adopting, as well as helping with feeding the elderly cats in the shelter.

Just as you’re rounding the corner of the front office your little shadow leaps onto your shoulder with a soft purr and you smile widely at the rambunctious kitty who’s been trailing ever since you let her out of her cage this morning. You nuzzle your nose into her soft black fur and she purrs louder into your ear as she nuzzles back against your head. Chuckling softly, you walk into the open room where all the older cats roam and spot Minho sitting in the middle of the room with a cat toy in one hand while multiple cats try to grab the dangling piece that he’s flicking back and forth. You smile softly as you spot the two cats curled up in his lap and the third one splayed out next to him with its head resting on his thigh as it stares up at him, you can’t stop yourself from sighing softly at the image. The man is such a softie for the cats and your heart swells in your chest with affection for the man. You wonder slightly if this is what baby fever feels like but with cats and you quickly shake your head at the thought trying to chase it out. You shouldn’t be having these thoughts about a man on your first date.

“I see your little black shadow hasn’t left your side.” Minho says with a soft smirk as his eyes stay trained on you while still flicking the cat toy from side to side.

“She knows who her bestie is today.” you quip back at him and he smiles widely at you with a knowing look in his eyes. “What?” you ask cautiously and he quickly shakes his head as you come take a seat next to him on the floor, one of the elderly cats comes slowly walking up to you and plops right in your lap making you chuckle softly.

“I know that look, I’ve had it each time I adopted one of my babies.” he said knowingly and you look over at him quickly before you tilt your head to the ground with a soft frown. You hadn’t expected to become attached to the little black cat so quickly this morning but Minho was right. You liked the cat’s presence and didn’t want to leave it here.

“Is it bad that I only came to help and want to leave with my own little ball of fluff?” you ask softly and Minho smiles warmly at your worried question.

“Not at all. Besides, Shadow suits you, she found her perfect partner in crime.” he says knowingly and you look over at him with warm fond eyes that sparkle. “If you’re serious about adopting I can help you. I know all the great places to buy cat things and we can totally have playdates with my babies and your new little one if you want.” he said starting to grow excited at the thought that you’d adopt Shadow.

“You’ll help me?” you ask softly with wide hopeful eyes and Minho chuckles softly before nodding his head.

“I have to take responsibility, I was the one who brought you here in the first place.” he said softly as he leaned in towards you and you grinned widely at him. The way he was being so sweet with you made your heart flutter in your chest and couldn’t stop yourself from leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Minho stared at you wide eyed for a moment and you mimicked his look before Shadow meowed loudly in your ear pulling you both out your stupor causing you both to blush brightly.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” you apologized softly and Minho shook his head quickly at you in response.

“Don’t apologize. I liked it.” he answered and you smiled shyly at him. “Why don’t we go up to the front and get the paperwork filled out so that you can adopt Shadow and then we’ll go grab lunch and go shopping for everything she’ll need.” he suggested softly and you nodded your head at him happily. Minho then stood up before reaching down to help you up as well, when you stood in front of him he tugged you close, smiling softly before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek as well. “C’mon let’s go make you a cat Mama.” he teased softly and you flushed once more at his words as he smirked softly at you. “Cutest cat Mama out there.” he said softly and you groaned softly in response as he giggled at you.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

@channiesrightasscheek

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho

108 notes · View notes

callsign-rogueone · 19 hours ago

Text

vigil

Sawyer Henrick x reader (Peach!) words: 2.0k 🏷️: end of iron flame spoilers — our poor boy 🥺 time skip, so they’re back at the school now. descriptions of his injury, mentions of intrusive thoughts / ocd, Ridoc being the sweetest and looking out for his bestie’s girl <3 here marks the end of iron flame for them!! future chapters will have spoilers for onyx storm, whenever I get around to finishing it.

“Come back to me,” you whisper into the collar of his flight jacket. “Please.”

His lips brush against your temple as he speaks. “Always. I will always come back to you.”

You linger there a moment, knowing that this may be the last time you’ll ever hold each other. You aren’t ready to let go. You probably won’t ever be. How many times will you relive this moment? Will it ever hurt any less, or get any easier?

It shouldn’t, really.

“Hey,” he says softly, pulling back and tilting your chin up to look at him, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’ll be okay. We all will.”

You nod, trying to convince yourself that he’s right. He and his friends will stick together -- and they’re all powerful. They can fight whatever’s out there, and win. That’s what they’ve been preparing for this whole time.

“I love you,” you manage, swallowing the rest of your tears.

He drops a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. I’ll find you when it’s over, okay?”

Another nod.

You don’t know what else to say. There are no words for this situation, nothing that will make this situation any better for either of you.

You stand there another moment, trying to commit the sight of the other person to memory: how the first light of day brings out the red in his hair, the hilt of the sword he wears across his back, and the grooves he made there that fit his hands perfectly, the flight goggles perched on the top of his head… the pale blue of your healer’s robes and how they contrast against your skin, the flower necklace that peeks out from the collar, and the tidy hairstyle you default to every day…

He’s the first to turn away.

It’s agonizing to watch him leave, but it may very well be the last time you see him — so you stand there, until he crosses the bridge back into his quadrant and slips into a crowd of identically dressed riders, out of reach and out of sight.

All you can do for him now is pray. You close your eyes, beginning a silent plea to Amari and her husband — that’s interrupted by a familiar, but irritating voice.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

You freeze, turning to see Helen, one of the senior healers, who for some reason absolutely despises you. “Ma’am,” you begin, unsure how to continue.

“Is this profession a joke to you?”

“No, of course not,” you answer. “I…”

“Disappearing for a month without as much as a note, leaving all your responsibilities and schoolwork behind to go chase after a boy? If it was up to me, and we didn’t need all hands on deck today, you’d be leaving this infirmary in shackles.”

How the fuck are you supposed to respond to that? Does she want you to beg her to forgive you, or is she content to watch you blink at her like this, too stunned to form words?

“Lowen! I need you.”

You look at her another moment before you come back to your senses, looking in the direction of the voice. “Coming!”

You round the corner, squeaking in surprise when you’re tugged into a supply closet.

Sarah.

You wrap her in a tight hug, taking a moment to breathe. You hadn’t been too worried about anyone at Basgiath, who were still under the wards, but it’s a relief to see her again after not hearing from her for a month.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” she whispers.

“Helen isn’t.”

She laughs. “I swear, she got even worse after you left. I still think you’re absolutely insane for that, by the way.”

“I know,” you answer. “You’ve told me that a few times.”

“Alright. Help me carry these boxes?”

Over the next hour, the already-somber infirmary grows even quieter, as everyone realizes that everything is ready — the beds made up, bandages prepared, surgical tools cleaned… You’ve done all you can do.

Now you just have to wait.

————————

“I need all hands!” someone calls, and you drop the towels you’ve been folding to turn to the door.

It doesn’t take you more than a second to realize that the person they’re wheeling in is Sawyer. As soon as you catch a glimpse of his rain-soaked hair, you know.

His eyes are closed, his head lolled onto his shoulder — he’s unconscious, completely limp. You finally tear your eyes away from his face, your heart nearly stopping when you realize why he’s here: half of his left leg is just gone.

Someone had tied a tourniquet around his thigh, but it’s not enough to stop the seemingly endless flow of blood. The life is pouring out of him, spilling onto the floor and staining it red, and all you can do is stand there and watch. Your boots are stuck to the stone beneath you, your eyes fixed on the shredded muscle and exposed bone, the things you aren’t supposed to see outside of your textbooks.

You’ve never flinched at any cuts or broken bones, never hesitated to fall into place beside your mother when the neighbors came knocking after farming accidents — none of it ever fazed you.

But it’s never been him.

“Lo,” someone says softly, a hand settling on your arm, “if you can’t…”

“I can,” you interrupt, “and I will.”

——————

“You should get some sleep, P.”

It takes you a second to place the voice as Ridoc’s. You shake your head, not looking up. “I can’t take my eyes off of him.”

“He’s gonna be okay,” he says softly. “That tourniquet you gave him saved his life, y’know. Violet tied it for him, as soon as she could.”

You’re quiet for a moment, unsure how to explain yourself. “I know he should pull through, I just… I have this thing, that I’ve had since I was a child. I’ll have a terrible thought, and I try brushing it off or forgetting about it like a normal person would, but I can’t. It sticks to me, and I have to prevent it from happening by holding my breath or washing my hands or saying a prayer or something. And right now, my mind is telling me if I look away, even for a moment… I know deep down that’s not how it works, but I can’t risk it this time. I won’t. Not when it’s him.”

“I understand,” he says softly. “If I brought you food, would you eat?”

Another shake no. You haven’t had any appetite since this morning, knowing what could happen — what did happen.

“Water, at least?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Attagirl. I’ll be back.”

A minute later, Ridoc steps into your peripheral vision, careful not to obscure your view of Sawyer as he extends a cup of water toward you.

Slowly, hesitantly, you let go of Sawyer’s hand, setting it down on the bed and waiting for the worst, but he doesn’t stir, doesn’t show any reaction to the movement. You don’t know if that’s good or bad. It’s both, really; a sign that the sedation is working, but also that he isn’t going to wake up any time soon.

He might not ever.

You reach up to take it, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sleeve. The pale blue fabric is spotted with rusty brown patches — Sawyer’s blood. You’d scrubbed it off your hands, but it’s still stuck to you, staining your clothes and lining your fingernails. No amount of cold, soapy water would get it out.

Water. Right.

You take a slow sip, realizing how parched you are. The rest of the cup goes down easily, and your voice doesn’t sound as raspy as you speak again. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Ridoc takes it back from you, settling into a chair in your line of sight — on the opposite side of the bed. “How are you holding up? I know it must have been hard, seeing… that.”

“It usually isn’t,” you answer. “But it usually isn’t him.”

He nods, silent for a moment. “Everyone else is safe. Nothing serious.”

“S’ good,” you say quietly.

Another short silence — just the distant sounds of the infirmary, which has slowed significantly since this morning. Most of the beds are full, if not all of them, but everyone’s been attended to, wounds bandaged and bones set.

“I’ll be fine,” you say again, trying to convince the both of you that you mean it. “Go be with your girl.”

Ridoc looks at you a moment, thinking about it, before he rises from his chair, leaning down to brush his lips against Sawyer’s temple. “See you tomorrow, dude. Love you.”

You smile for the first time in twelve hours.

Sawyer stirs, his hand moving against yours, and your heart jumps. You and Ridoc both hold your breath, waiting.

“Peach?” he murmurs.

“Right here,” you answer, squeezing his hand gently.

“S’good,” he mumbles in reply, his eyes still closed — still working off the double dose of sedatives you’d had to give him to keep the pain at bay. “Was worried about you.”

You manage a laugh. Of course he worried about you, even when you’d been safe indoors for the whole battle. You bring your other hand up to brush the hair from his eyes, stroking the backs of your fingers over his cheek. “I’m okay, sweet boy. Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake.”

He hums a soft acknowledgment, settling deeper into the blankets.

Ridoc gives you a gentle half-hug before he slips away, headed back to the rider’s quadrant.

You take a fresh look at Sawyer, with a healer’s eyes, comforted by what you see: some of the color has returned to his face, and his skin is warm against yours, both good signs that he’s coping with the blood loss. You move your hand down to check his pulse — it’s steady against your fingers, if a little slow. His breaths are even, the bleeding has stopped… he’s out of the woods, sleeping soundly with the help of the heavy dose of pain-reliever.

You turn your gaze toward the window, out into the night sky. “Thank you,” you whisper to the stars. “Thank you.”

You could swear you feel the fleeting touch of a warm hand on your shoulder, but Ridoc has already left. You must be more sleep deprived than you’d thought. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a little while, now that Sawyer is conscious again.

You toe off your boots, tucking your legs underneath you and getting as comfortable as you can in the hard wooden chair, resting your head on the edge of the mattress.

You wake to the warm orange light of sunrise, and a gentle hand stroking your hair.

“You should have woken me up earlier,” you chide gently, fighting a yawn, but the sleepiness fades quickly as you realize he’s awake — and he likely has been for a while, judging by the way he’s managed to prop himself upright.

“You needed the sleep,” he says softly, his voice dry and scratchy. “And you looked too peaceful to wake.”

You sit up, ignoring the stiffness in your neck from sleeping in that terrible position, and turn to look at him. “How much do you remember?” you ask in a whisper, taking his hand gently. You look scared, those pretty eyes wet with tears and softened with concern.

“All of it, I think. Are you okay?” he asks softly, squeezing your hand.

You clear your throat, embarrassed that you’re the one crying right now. “Of course I am, why…”

“Is my squad okay?”

You nod — Ridoc had assured you last night that the others were all present and accounted for.

“Then I’m okay.”

You exhale, more tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I had to keep my promise,” he says, managing a smile. “I couldn't leave you behind again.”

You rest your forehead against his, closing your eyes. “I love you, Sy,” you whisper. “To the ends of the earth.”

“And I love you, sweet girl. To the South star and back.”

“To the South star and back,” you agree, your voice cracking with emotion.

He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’ll be okay,” he promises. “As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

#sawyer and peach #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #mine #sawyer henrick x reader

73 notes · View notes

kmt123whatsthetea · 1 day ago

Text

Official Business

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @mytrinityphelps

Request: “Office sex with coworker Fred Weasley (and him wearing glasses)”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I'm sorry it's taken so long to actually start and upload. But it never slipped my mind. This might just be my longest fic yet, so I hope it's actually enjoyable. I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot about the glasses request and I’m so sorry. I reread the request and went “mentioning glasses once might not cover it”. I’m sorry

T/W: Unprotected sex, Office banter, Blowjob, Nearly caught, Belly bulge,

What could you say about working as an Auror?

It was a decent job with decent pay, the hours were your casual 9 to 5 with weekends off.

Oh, and there was your coworker Fred. He wasn't the most serious guy, having left his job at a joke shop for better pay to keep his business up and running.

He was tolerable, unlike some of the other stuffy old workers who were seemingly glued to their desks. He was a little older than you with a ginger mop of hair and glasses that framed his deep brown eyes. He was friendly, always offering to bring you a morning tea and coffee personally instead of relying on the house elves. He even bought you a small owl ornament for your desk to commemorate your first year anniversary of working there.

Maybe you liked the flirty banter more. How during lunch breaks he’d comment about how you looked better than any dessert ever could, and that he looked forward to your smile more than any monthly wage slip. He really knew how to make your day brighter.

When he noticed the blush that spread across your cheeks in response to his teasing, he took a step up. Some of your favorite comments of his all shared a similar trait. They made you want to jump his bones. It was impossible not to when he spoke the stuff of wet dreams in that soft teasing tone.

“Your lipstick looks pretty, I wonder how it would look trailing down my chest”

“Looks like you’ve had a heavy workload today. Here I’d hoped you could take heavy loads, baby”

“You look tired, you’d sleep a lot better in my bed”

Oh, he was really trying to rile you up. And it was working like a charm.

Working overtime wasn’t rare in this line of work. Desk jobs always had their fair share of paperwork pile ups. Most workers left it till the next day or took it home to complete when possible. You only had a bit of work left and decided to stay to avoid the unnecessary task of homework.

One thing that caught you off guard was that Fred hadn’t said goodnight to you like he usually did before leaving. He did it every night. Was he angry at you? Had you said the wrong thing?

The thought stung a little, but you could always ask him about it the next morning.

Half an hour into your work was enough for a tea break. It wasn't procrastination if it counted as hydrating. Heading along the familiar hallway was second nature for you, but stopping dead was new. In the vast rows of desks, was a familiar ginger mop of hair. Was Fred Weasley staying late?

You made your way downstairs, an idea in mind.

Fred hated staying late. He hated this job. He had only taken it for some extra income towards the joke shop. He took the 9 to 5 job due to Georgie and Angelina expecting their first. At least if he was running the shop, he could be more lenient with trips to St Mungos. He still had a whole 3 hours worth of work to get through just to catch up. How people did this full time, he didn't know.

The approach of heels made him keep his head down, thinking it was some higher up reader to scold him for not taking the job seriously. But when a mug of coffee was placed before him, his head soon whipped up. There you were, like an angel in his time of need. You somehow looked perfect, like you weren't working overtime from an 8 hour shift. Instead of reaching for the mug handle, he reached for your hand in a tender grip.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know.

Your thumb trailed over his knuckles softly, a soft yet teasing smile on your face.

“I guess you owe me then”

That brought a smile to his face, giving your hand a tug causing you to fall onto his lap. You laughed softly, your hands finding his shoulders. This was his usual flirting to the max. But what was the harm in a bit of teasing?

“Give it your best shot, Weasley”

Knowing Fred in the capacity that you did, you should have known that he wouldn't take it as harmless teasing. He took it as a challenge.

His other hand found your cheek, pulling you closer to press his lips to yours in a kiss that seemed almost desperate. He let go of your wrist in favour of holding your waist to keep you steady on his lap. His lips pressed harder against yours, like a kiss along could merge your bodies. He wanted to be closer to you. He seemed confused when you got off of his lap, trying to hold onto you tighter, but his confusion turned into shock when you lowered yourself between his spread legs. He couldn't help his excitement as he practically ripped his belt off.

“You’re really gonna suck my dick? Sweetheart, you’re something else. Most girls would complain about ruining their lipstick, but you love being a dirty little office slut, don't you?”

He groaned when you pressed a kiss to his bulge in response before your hand took over, palming him teasingly. Your fingers tugged his zipper and fumbled with his button before his boxers came into view, and they were pulled down even quicker. Fred reached into his boxers, pulling his cock out. It stood tall before your face, his shaft veiny and girthy. The curtains definitely matched the drapes when it came to his pubes.

“Are you always this hard, Fred, or does a bit of kissing turn you on?”

He chuckled, his hand cupping your jaw to pull you closer.

“I'm always hard for you, I just don't show it as blatantly as you do. I knew how wet you got for me. I wonder if you ever played with yourself in the bathrooms thinking of me…or did you just finger yourself under your desk while I told you how pretty you looked every morning?”

That blush that filled your cheeks when he spoke, that's what he loved most about you. How that small tint of pink made you irresistible. How naturally it did.

His thumb caressed your blushing cheek, it was the result of him after all. Little did he know, it was all for him. You’d give all of yourself to him.

Your tongue gave his tip a gentle prod, reveling in his hiss at the touch. He sounded beautiful with every response, but those you drew from him were your favourite. Your lips wrapped around his tip, suckling softly. Fred stifled his moans, bringing his tie to his mouth and biting it to keep himself quiet from any other late workers. You looked up at him through your lashes, the sight making you wetter. Fred was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, his face nearly as red as his hair and his tie tucked between his lips while his cock throbbed for attention. He was like fine art.

Your lips returned to his cock, your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in your throat. His eyes bugged out when he felt your mouth take him deeper. But it was all cut short at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Fred pulled the tie from his mouth and nudged you gently, his voice merely a hushed whisper.

“Sweetie, stop. Someone, fuck…someones coming”

His hands ushered towards the underside of his desk making sure you were tucked in before pulling his chair up and trapping you between his legs. The footsteps stopped by his desk, one of your colleagues commenting on how he was here late, making some joke about his allergy for work slowly being cured. Fred could only nod along, his mind still in panic mode from nearly being caught getting sucked off by a coworker. You, on the other hand, took delight in how the tables had turned. It was your turn to tease him.

You leaned your face closer to his cock, sliding your tongue along his shaft and tracing his veins. You could hear his groan which he quickly covered up with a coughing fit. You could hear the coworker checking on him and patting his back, but you didn't give him a reprieve. Your lips circled his tip, suckling gently. Your coworker ran off, something about getting some water for Fred. He pulled his chair back and helped you out from under the desk.

“Sweetheart, we don’t have time”

He pulls his shirt over his erection and drags you by the hand, along the hallway and to the small utility cupboard that housed quills and inks. He pushed you in first and followed you inside, muttering a few enchantments under his breath. He had to make sure no one would hear you two and most importantly, that no one would try and open the door.

His hands wrapped around your waist like a python, pulling you into him. You pulled your pencil skirt up, hooking your leg over his hip. You dropped your voice to a sultry whisper.

“Then you better not waste anymore time, Fred”

His hand slithered between your bodies, pulling up your pencil skirt and tugging your panties aside. He practically growled at how wet you were, his fingers soaked from that brief touch. He couldn't wait any longer. He lined his tip with your entrance and pulled your hips, sliding you down his cock. You let out a relieved moan, grateful for Fred’s enchantment. His cock was buried so snug inside of you, every clench around his thickness felt like he could break you.

You risked a glance down and the sight of his cock causing your belly to bulge made you whimper. Just the sight alone caused that band to tighten. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pressing needy kisses to his lips. Fred pulled his hips back and thrust back into you, wanting to be as deep inside of you as he could. He wondered what it would be like to cum inside of you, painting you deep inside, but he didn't want to push his luck. There was plenty of time, and there was no way he’d have that much fun in an office storeroom. If it took, that would be a terrible place to conceive.

He licked along your bottom lip, his pace never slowing.

“I'm close, sweetie. Cum on my cock, make a mess”

His hand moved back between you both, desperate fingers circling your clit in tight, quick circles. He could feel your grip on his shoulders tighten, your eyes rolling back in bliss as you clamped down on his cock. A pornographic moan ripped itself from your throat as your juices coated his shaft. You were so warm and tight, that he contemplated just throwing all care out the window but instead he groaned and pulled out, his hand wrapping around his dick and pumping fervently.

His cum painted your bunched up skirt, leaving a sticky stain on the grey fabric. You didn’t call him out on it in your blissed out state, only noticing when you slowly came down. Even then, it was just a skirt. It was worth it.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll buy you a new skirt if I have to. Maybe some pretty lingerie as well”

His signature smirk returned as he whispered in your ear.

“But then again, I’d prefer you naked”

#fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley

71 notes · View notes

hrts4nagi · 2 days ago

Text

i tira-miss-u!

♡. . ! valentine's day special

synopsis :: it’s been 3 months since you broke up with nagi seishiro. he soon realizes how important you were to his life. and all he can do is try to win you back, but the question awaits, will you take him back?

pairing :: ex-bf! nagi seishiro x gn! reader, exes to lovers?

wc :: 3.6k

a/n :: happy valentine's day! i came up with this on the whim after seeing this tweet and became inspired :> hope u enjoy!

୨ ୧

when you proposed the break up nagi was ever so nonchalant. the two of you parted ways, no bad blood. just a plain old mutual break-up. ever since you moved out of your previously shared home, nagi’s starting to realize how empty the apartment was. and he did not like it, one bit.

he would turn around looking for you in the middle of the night, patting around on your side of the bed to be met with a cold empty space. he calls out your name asking where his cleats went, to no response. at the convenience store, he finds himself reaching for two cups of noodles out of pure instinct. he looks at chokki, frowning that chokki’s partner was also gone.

it becomes all the more clear to him, nagi wants you back.

scratch that.

he needs you.

how was he supposed to do that within a week from valentine's day?

he dies in a game with a large GAME OVER plastered over the screen. he grumbles placing his phone face down.

it was practically mocking him.

nagi can't help but think how his apartment hasn't felt like a home ever since you left. he misses the sweet vanilla scent of the perfume you wore. the scent nothing but a distant memory, leaving a painful reminder that you were no longer his.

he sighs at the thought. it was bothersome how he longed for you yet nagi wasn't sure how to get you back.

nagi: hey reo

reo: what’s up

nagi: i want y/n back

reo: congrats? but weren’t they the one to break up with you

nagi: yeah and?

reo: nagi, you can’t just show up on their doorstep asking them to take you back

reo: you have to show them you care

nagi: okay

nagi: i think i have an idea

reo: i’m trusting you with this one

before he knew it, nagi seishiro was standing in front of your apartment door with your favorite flowers in hand. he looks down onto the flowers, was he really about to do this? no second thoughts, he had to if he wanted any chance of getting you back. with a shaky breath, he knocked on your door.

“huh, sei? i mean nagi? what are you doing here?”

his eyes light up at the sight of you. though, nagi frowns at your lack of nicknames but that was to be expected. nervously, he holds out the bouquet to you.

“i got you flowers.”

“wow, uhm thank you?”

he looks at you expectedly, awaiting a response. you tilt your head in confusion. “did you need anything else?”

“oh, uhm no that’s all.”

“well, thanks again!”

you slowly close the door with a smile. being met with the door once more, nagi sighs. he had absolutely no clue how to execute his plan. he walks away in defeat, texting reo on the way back to his place.

nagi: it didn’t work

reo: what did you do?

nagi: i gave them flowers

reo: and then?

nagi: that’s it.

reo: …..

reo: we have a lot to work on

after a much needed pep-talk, operation win y/n back was put into action! reo sat nagi down in front of a projector to give him some well needed advice on winning you back! reo’s baffled on how nagi pulled you in the first place with his lack of competence in the romance department.

he scrolls through instagram noticing you posted something new to your story. nagi knows he shouldn't click on it. i mean wasn't that one of the many un-offical break-up rules? but alas, his curiosity gets the better of him. to his surprise, you posted the flower bouquet along with one of your favorite songs as the background. a smile breaks onto nagi's face.

maybe all hope isn't lost.

୨ ୧

step #1: take them to their favorite places!

nagi knew you were an avid animal crossing enjoyer, ever since you two played it together for the first time. it was where many dates of yours took place! specifically, in the aquarium area of blathers museum. you even had an animal crossing collection yourself. with that, nagi somehow had a good idea for once!

there happened to be an animal crossing aquarium that opened recently, so nagi knew it was the perfect opportunity to take you out! with new found confidence, he found your contact and initiated the plan.

nagi: hi y/n

you: oh hey nagi!

nagi: are you free tomorrow?

you: yeah why?

nagi: cool, i’ll meet you at 12.

you: nagi????

nagi showed up bright and early at 11:55 am at your doorstep. you blink, astonished. you already prepared yourself a youtube video to watch to keep you busy.

nagi seishiro was never on time.

typically, you'd be the one who ended up going to his apartment to wake him up for his slumber. it was a pleasant surprise to see him early for once.

“hi.”

“you ready?”

“yup! where are we going anyway?”

“it's a surprise, just trust me.”

hesitant, you follow letting the white-haired boy lead the way. he notices you falling behind, due to the long strides he takes. nagi takes your hand so you can match his pace, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people. your heart flutters at his actions.

your eyes widen in surprise, looking up at the vibrant, yellow sign which read animal crossing aquarium experience.

“how did you know? i’ve been meaning to go but tickets were always sold out!”

“lucky guess.”

“what are you waiting for? let’s go!”

you drag nagi by the arm leading him into the museum, while he stumbles at the sudden action.

from exhibit to exhibit, he watches you awe at the various sea creatures who used to be visible on the other side of the screen. he smiles fondly at the scene of your eyes lighting up in pure, child-like joy. nagi really missed seeing your face.

nagi notices the gift shop selling all types of animal crossing merchandise. slipping away from the scene, he purchases a tom nook headband for himself and an isabelle one for you. he gently places the headband on your head with your attention focused on the fish.

you blink in surprise turning to face him, pulling out your phone camera for a better look. you laugh noticing the yellow ears falling onto the side of your head. you turn the camera towards nagi where he throws up a peace sign in response as you snap a picture of the two of you.

“hey, can you also do a 0.5? it’ll look better from your angle!”

“sure.”

nagi pulls you slightly closer as he captures the picture of the two of you. the two hearts feeling warmth at the familiar action. the aquarium ventures continue. the two of you end up by the penguin enclosure where you excitedly snap multiple pictures of the animals. when you weren’t looking, nagi snapped a candid polaroid of you watching the penguins. he stifled a laugh, noticing how you were mimicking the penguins on the other side of the glass.

“hey, wait here.” you nod unsure what he was planning.

dumbfoundedly, you watch nagi approach a stranger asking him to snap a picture of the two of you. before, it was always you who asked strangers to take pictures for you. it felt foreign watching nagi do it, but it was a nice type of foreign. you notice him wielding the polaroid camera you bought him for his birthday last year. the cinnamoroll sticker you placed near the lens still in the same spot you left it.

nagi hands you back the camera, you fan the polaroid back and forth waiting for the film to develop. the picture slowly comes into color as you freeze at the realization. he recreated the scene of one of your many online dates at blather’s museum.

“nagi, did you recreate this from one of our animal crossing dates?”

“yeah, i did. do you like it?”

“i do like it, a lot actually.”

“good cause there’s a lot more where that’s coming from.”

the two of you ended the day with matching souvenirs and shared laughter over slushies. (you and nagi fought back and forth on whether red cherry or blue raspberry was the superior coice. the two of you came to the mutual agreement that the combo of both flavors was the winner).

nagi: gn pretty! i’ll see you tmr @ 5 :)

୨ ୧

step #2 - do the little things!

yet again, nagi seishiro showed up at your door with a variety of your favorite snacks in hand claiming it was time for a movie night. lucky for him, you had no plans! as usual you welcomed him into your apartment. he rests his bag on the floor and your eyes widen seeing the keychain you put on still in the same place.

“you still have that sugarbunny keychain on?”

“huh, oh yeah. i couldn’t really bring myself to take it off.”

“to be honest, neither could i.”

nagi clears his throat, breaking the silence. “so, what movie?”

“surprise me!”

nagi scrolls through the movie titles on the screen before landing on your name. a classic pick for movie nights. you clap your hands in joy at his choice. you usher to the kitchen grabbing the snacks he brought along with popcorn. you notice nagi watching you, sticking out your tongue at him in response. he roles his eyes playfully. you return to the couch as he grabs a blanket sprawling over the two of you.

“this reminds me just like old times. i thought you'd forget.”

nagi puts down the remote, making direct eye contact with you. “what? how could i forget?” you pause trying to find your words.

“i don't know,” you start. “it's just that i always felt like a second option.”

“oh, im sorry i really didn't know.”

“it's okay, at least you acknowledge it now.”

the two of you stare at each other in comfortable silence. nagi rests his head on your shoulders. to his surprise, you let him. the dialogue from the movie provides comforting background noise.

“can i stay like this? just for a little?”

“go ahead.”

out of instinct, your hand finds the top of his fluffy white locks as you softly rake your fingers through his messy hair. nagi hums at the familiar feeling, snuggling closer to your neck. he hopes you can’t hear the rhythm of his heart going at an inhumane speed from the contact. and you hope the same.

the knock on your door startles the both of you. to the point, where nagi shot up in fear, your shoulder already feeling cold from the lack of warmth.

"the pizza."

"oh yeah, i'll get it."

what a way to ruin the moment.

୨ ୧

step #3 - make-up for past experiences!

nagi remembered how you would beg him to take you out to this fancy restaurant months ago. as usual, nagi found dressing up to be quite bothersome. he didn’t really feel the need to dress up and throw on fancy clothes. he preferred just a hoodie and sweats. i mean, have you seen his closet? all those thoughts melted away when he saw you in your formal attire.

he made a mental reminder to thank reo for securing reservations to the place.

nagi thought you looked absolutely breathtaking, your hair was styled nicer than usual. the attire you chose for the night fit in all the right places. the sight of your collarbones made it hard for nagi to look away. red truly was your best color.

“woah, you look really good.” nagi admires, his eyes feel heavy on you.

“i can say the same thing, sei.”

a soft smile appears on his face at the familiar nickname. he always loved the way you would say his name with such fondness. he could hear you call his name all day.

the two of you are seated near the window, overlooking the city skyline. your jaw drops at the view as you snap pictures of the horizon matching perfectly to the numerous tall buildings.

“i swear i can see my apartment from here!”

“how much is this place anyway?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

nagi brushes off the question. “don’t worry about it, all i did was make sure you liked the menu.”

that was a lie.

nagi begged reo, practically on his knees, to book this specific spot since he knew you loved city views like this. not to mention, he also forced reo to make said restaurant add a special menu item or two, just for you.

who knew having connections would be so useful?

the waitress comes by and takes your orders where nagi orders for you two. you sit there playing with your hands. you couldn't stop staring at nagi. he was already handsome but when he made the effort to dress up, it was almost a total makeover. he even styled his hair slightly differently and all you could think about was your hands getting lost in his locks. you thank whoever chose this look for him.

you snap out of your daze as nagi finishes ordering.

“you two are super cute by the way!” the waitress compliments.

“thanks.”

you blush at nagi’s confirmation. it’s not like you minded being mistaken for an couple, since you used to be one. but you weren’t exactly sure where your relationship with nagi lies, with labels and all. it wasn't exactly commonplace sharing a candle-lit dinner with your ex at an overly expensive restaurant.

after some idle chatter, the waitress comes back with both of your dishes, placing them onto each respective side. nagi watches as your smile drops, noticing tomatoes on your dish. you hate tomatoes. you sigh defeatedly, reaching for your utensils. before you could even say anything, nagi grabbed your plate and moved the tomatoes to his. even giving you some of his sides which he knew you’d enjoy.

you sit there, bewildered at his actions. he quietly slides the plate back over without another word. you hum in satisfaction, enjoying your dish free of tomatoes.

nagi was reminded that night how much better food tasted eating alongside you.

୨ ୧

you kick your feet in your bed like a teenage girl, fawning over her crush. the same attire you wore to dinner sprawled onto your sheets. you felt like a lovesick fool. laying your cheek on one of your plushies, which nagi definitely won for you. you sit up at the realization throwing the poor bunny to the ground.

your mind was in shambles. nagi seishiro really changed, he’s become everything you that he lacked in the past and yet there’s that voice nagging at the back of your head.

what if this is all temporary

what if he really doesn’t mean any of it

what if.

you shake your head wanting to get rid of those thoughts on your mind, but you couldn’t. there’s a part of you that’s scared. scared that everything will go back to the ways they used to beforehand. and you didn’t want that.

if you were to say you moved on from nagi seishiro, that would be a big fat lie. you never stopped loving him over the course of the break-up. you still yearned for him as he yearned for you. unsure at your predicament, you opted to text one of your friends for some well-needed advice.

you: HYO I NEED HELP

hyoma: what happened this time?

you: okay so you know how i broke up with nagi like 3 months ago?

hyoma: all too well… you were slumped for two weeks straight.

you: moving on…

you: okay so he showed up at my doorstep a couple days ago and he’s been taking me on all these dates and i think i still love him and i want him

you: like REALLY bad

hyoma: woah woah woah

hyoma: can we back track here?

hyoma: WTF WERE THOSE FLOWERS FROM HIM THAT YOU POSTED ON YOUR STORY

you: guilty!

you: but yeah

you: he’s been super sweet and has been so proactive but a part of me is still scared

hyoma: how so?

you: i dunno

you: i feel like i’m gonna wake up tomorrow and all of this is just a dream :(

hyoma: hmmm

hyoma: from what you’ve said, he’s changed for a reason

hyoma: if he’s making you THIS lovesick, i think that’s all the confirmation you need

you: ur the best, love u bro <3

hyoma: yeah yeah same here

hyoma: now go get ur man!!!!

୨ ୧

step #4 - just be upfront and honest!

once again, nagi is at your door sporting his usual outfit composed of a comfy oversized hoodie and fleece sweatpants. you thought that was his best look.

“i got you flowers but i realized they would eventually wither so,” he reveals a flower bouquet lego set. “i bought these, so you will always have flowers with you. you won’t have to water them either so that’s a plus.”

he still hid his other hand behind his back. “what’s that in your other hand?” you question.

“that’s for later.” he shuffles against the wall hiding the object from your view, sneakily sliding it into the fridge. you laugh at his antics before waving him over to start on the lego flowers with you. you dump out the box and start organizing the pieces into piles. you start working on the flower bundles while nagi builds the stems.

“hey y/n?”

“yeah?”

“why did we break-up?”

you ponder, setting down the lego piece deep in thought, trying to find the right words.

“truthfully, i always felt like i was the one putting in all the effort in our relationship. i was always the one doing the planning but most of our dates didn’t even end up happening. sure, i loved spending time with you but i felt neglected from time to time. i felt like you didn't even want to be in a relationship with me, so i broke it off before you could hurt me." you look down feeling tears swell into your eyes.

“y/n, can you look at me?”

you shake your head not wanting to look into his eyes that you loved so much. softly, he tilts your chin up frowning at the sight of your downcast face.

nagi hates himself for being the sole reason for your tears.

"i would never break-up with you. to be honest, i've been a mess ever since you left me." nagi confesses. he hesitates for a moment before opening his mouth once more.

“can i kiss you?”

“if it’s you, you don’t even have to ask.”

that was all the confirmation nagi needed. he looks into your eyes before gently grabbing both sides of your face as your lips interlock. the way your lips mold together was like a perfect fit. nagi pulls away first, retracting his head but his hands never leaving your face.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry for everything i did in the past. i’ve made so many mistakes and i regret every single one. i didn’t realize how important you were to me until i lost you. and that’s why i’ve been trying to make up for everything this past week. which i know is not enough but i was an idiot, well i still am one, but i’ve come to realize that i’d rather be your idiot than just an idiot.”

you press a finger to his lips to stop his rambling. you let out a playful scoff at his words, a smile bringing its way to your face.

“hm, i don’t know? are there any more compelling reasons for me to take you back?”

“chokki misses his partner by the way.”

“oh yeah, what about chokki’s dad?”

nagi looks away in embarrassment. “he misses you. like a lot.” you smile, grabbing his cheeks and placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“lucky for him, i missed him lots too!”

“i got you one last thing,” he holds out a heart shaped tiramisu to you. how could he forget your favorite dessert?

“i tira-miss-you.” you giggle at the slight pout resting on nagi's face. you dip a finger in the dessert tasting it humming in satisfaction at the sweet taste before wiping a dollop onto his face.

his pout deepens. suddenly, you're being lifted into the air, bridal style as he makes his way to your room. you start flailing around, begging him to put you down.

“sei!”

“shh.”

he gently rests you on your bed and lays himself on top of you. “i just want you in my arms, is that too much to ask for?” you sigh, letting him envelop you in his arms.

“so, does that mean we’re back together now?” you flick his forehead, slightly annoyed.

“of course, you dummy.”

“hey y/n.”

“yeah?”

“i love you, like a lot. i never stopped.”

“you're silly sei, i never stopped loving you either.”

operation win y/n back, success!

nagi seishiro was lazy to everything, but for you, he'd do anything. and i mean anything. he would even quit gaming if you asked him to. not like you’d be cruel enough to ask that of him. no matter what, nagi seishiro would go to great lengths if that meant putting a smile on your face.

୨ ୧

#☆⌒(ゝ。∂)#nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x you #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock oneshots #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock drabbles #blue lock fic #bluelock x reader #valentines day #nagi seishiro fluff #happy valentine's day #valentines special

122 notes · View notes