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yourmidnightlover · 1 year ago

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forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents.

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place.

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely.

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be.

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite.

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady.

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light.

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much.

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life.

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together.

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door.

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe.

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight.

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting.

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls.

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile.

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline.

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun.

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting.

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you.

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway.

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men.

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips.

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates.

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned.

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes.

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with.

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often.

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip.

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be.

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband.

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins.

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away.

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you?

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this.

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think.

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted.

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly.

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.”

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident.

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth.

and then there was a knock at the door.

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting.

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements.

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft.

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was.

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again.

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.”

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you.

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing…

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed.

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point.

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad.

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ncteenv · 2 months ago

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svt as friends with benefits

s.coups (seungcheol) was very surprised when you suggested it but he didn’t waste any time lmao. he almost never hits you up in fear of being inconvenient but loves it when you hit him up and he’s at the studio (bottom line: studio sex). born to catch feelings. he sometimes have to stop himself from blurting out random “i love you’s” when fucking. you could be going on about how this is a great arrangement because you both get hot sex with no strings attached. and he’d nod but will also be thinking about marrying you.

jeonghan honestly texts you asking to come over whenever he’s bored, which is all the fucking time. he hangs around a lot and says it’s because the members annoy him. truth is, he loves hanging out with you even if y'all don’t fuck. he’s a giant fucking tease and will get you worked up with only words. he loves teasing you in public and doesn’t oppose if you wanna fuck in the bathroom. he’s addicted to fingering, a hoe for hickeys and scratches, and likes subbing more than he cares to admit. decent aftercare, but he would open up to you and feel embarrassed about it later. he’d slowly catch feelings but never confess. your relationship just naturally progresses into a serious one if you let it.

joshua was so shocked when you suggested it he just kind of sat there in silence for 10 minutes. he’s a surprisingly slow lover! very shy but loves eye contact during sex. he likes to just lay with you and watch some funny stuff afterwards so he doesn’t lose this sense of friendship. he probably had feelings from the beginning but doesn’t ever confess.

jun already had feelings going in. you meet his mom like two weeks in and he makes it look completely unplanned. he tries to hold back on the romance in case the feelings aren’t mutual but always ends up making sweet love to you even though you specifically asked him to blow your back out. if there’s like a day for friends with benefits, he will get you roses. he stays the night, and gets you breakfast in bed in the morning. a cuddler. you’ll probably end up married.

hoshi never even suggested anything, just had an impulse to kiss you one night and everything just kinda happened from there. ****#1 nude requester. he loves telling you to come over to watch some netflix and then kissing your neck 0.32 seconds into the movie. oral god squad™. hair puller + ass smacker but he makes it a soft combo somehow. hip thrusts sent from heaven. he’s very considerate if you catch feelings and he doesn’t, but if you both fall then it’s a very chill transition into a serious relationship.

wonwoo rarely ever hits you up but is always available when you do. he will fuck you against the wall on command. touch his thigh and his brain’s already going into alert mode. he’s very nervous but also very romantic somehow. loves cuddling afterwards but never initiates it. he’d catch feelings very quietly and gets giddy if you confess first.

woozi so damn awkward and nervous, you have no idea how y'all got in this arrangement in the first place. but he makes up for it in bed after the first 3 times (he needs time to calm down okay). honestly has 0 idea how good he actually is. he doesn’t like to talk much afterwards, but will cuddle if you ask though. the sex doesn’t affect your friendship that much but strangers will always assume you two are dating. send him nudes and he’ll be at your door in 0.3 seconds. he’d beg for blowjobs/handjobs, and is real fucking whiny. he will probably confess to you and if you reject him he will write 2 whole albums about it.

dk (dokyeom) is a professional feelings catcher and will try to woo you. he’d immediately start acting like a boyfriend and tries to play it cool when you remind him it’s nothing serious. loves making out while lying down and talking about nothing in between kisses. still a great friend and amazing listener and an even better cuddler. he’d get pouty if you have other friends with benefits. most likely to transition into a serious relationship.

mingyu all those muscles are for catching feelings. y'all finish fucking and suddenly he's facetiming his mom. aftercare includes cuddling, caressing your hair and talking about your emotions. he can go for HOURS and likes to fuck you against a wall so he can see his own muscles flex. he thinks he's discreet about it but really isn't. sloppy at oral but that doesn't mean he's not good. if you terminate the arrangement he sends you a 2 minute video that's just him crying and staring at his front camera.

the8 (minghao) if you’re not his lifelong best friend then sorry he can’t be your friend with benefits. he’ll be paranoid about keeping your relationship discreet. acts like he doesn’t know you in public, says it’s “hotter” and “naughtier that way�� when confronted. he will not look you in the eyes again if he finds out he’s not your only friend with benefits. he’s surprisingly fond of couch sex. you’re still getting aftershock from your orgasm and he’s already put his pants on, one foot out the door. he brags about your sexcapades to his close friends in cryptic ways, and would gets mad if they act interested. he’s deeply afraid of catching feelings and will probably terminate the arrangement if his heart flutters even a lil bit.

seungkwan loves bickering and then shutting each other up with a kiss. 100% a jealous bitch. he has zero problems with minimal pda but only around your close friends. he’s actually very nervous and shy about kissing but he’s very good at covering it up. he likes to talk a lot afterwards. he’ll definitely expect to get married to you later on.

vernon to this day you have no idea how y'all got yourselves in this arrangement to be honest. he probably hits you up the most when he’s drunk. he’s actually very shy and nervous but he’s always trying different things to please you. oral god squad™ pt 2. he stays silent for 3 straight minutes afterwards but then he says some weird shit and ruins the moment. he might catch feelings if you ride him.

dino loves LOVES L O V E S teasing you in public, oh my god he would be INSUFFERABLE. intense stares, lip biting and everything. also loves fucking in inappropriate places. oral god squad™ pt 3. dancer hips!!! after-sex cuddling doesn’t exist because he just wants to go again. he’s a wildcard when it comes to catching feelings. he might dump you tomorrow or might be daydreaming about marrying you. who knows.

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xomakara · 1 month ago

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Back To Me

SUMMARY | Mingyu or Hansol? You finally decide who you want to be with.

PAIRINGS | Mingyu (SVT) x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE | smut, just pure unadulterated smut, friends with benefits, angst

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity, lovemaking, unprotective sex, fingering, breast fondling, creampies, dirty talk, kissing, sucking, biting, hair gripping/pulling, praising, hair gripping, oral sex (f.receiving), pet names

LENGTH | 7,662 words

TAGLIST | –

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @keopihaus @cosyhomenet @winerys-collection

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Thank you @lovetaroandtaemin as usual for beta-reading these fics that I churn out. I really appreciate it, bestie 💚 Here is the last part of this fwb!Mingyu series. I hope you all like it! Likes, comments, and reblogs (mainly reblogs) are appreciated~

If you haven't read the other parts, you can find them here: What Are We? (Mingyu x Reader) If We… (Vernon x Reader)

Seventeen Masterlist

Mingyu feels like shit.

Not literally though. Physically, he's perfectly healthy. It's emotionally, his mind feels like absolute shit. It's no surprise that his mental health is a tad bit fragile these days. This has got to be the most stressful time in his entire life so far.

He can't concentrate properly in class or do his school work at home properly without his eyes blurring and his hand cramping up from the constant movement of his wrist. The stupid test coming up next week that is due for 20 percent of the entire course grade is already freaking him out so much that it is the first thing to pop into his mind whenever he awakes. Not even the hot piece of ass beside him the past few nights.

She isn’t you and will never be you.

It has been two weeks and three days since Hansol has started dating you. Not that Mingyu was keeping count or anything. Absolutely not. His free hand that isn’t holding his phone squeezes his forehead in annoyance. For the past fifteen minutes Mingyu has been trying so hard to focus and study.

But everything fucking hurt. And every time he flips through the pages of his books, the words keep swimming in front of him. So now here he lay on his back, on top of his unmade bed with a head filled with nothing but you and you. And the fact that it's only Monday is adding to his aggravation.

When he sees the text he received from you, he swears his vision has become fogged by the words he's reading over and over.

'Yes.'

An ache pierces his heart like a dagger stabbing at his very chest. How could this happen to him? This isn't how he imagined things would happen. How has it gotten this far and this complicated? Sure he's asked you a million times to be his girlfriend. Sure, you always turn him down, but still, you keep finding yourself back in his bed almost every night of the week. Sure you'd refused and protested countless times, but did he force you to do any of these things?

Is this just an endless cycle?

He squeezes his eyes shut. A sigh. Then another.

Who is he kidding?

Of course he’s being delusional. How could he have just presumed that because the both of you continued sleeping together and occasionally saw each other throughout the day for food or just to hangout together—no matter who they were with—means that things would go his way. But Mingyu guessed it was his fault for never pursuing a real, emotional relationship with you. Maybe if he hadn't set those boundaries from the start of your no-strings relationship, then none of these things would be happening right now.

Sure it might've taken longer than it should for him to realize how he's actually developed feelings. Why can't you realize that he knows what the two of you have is real, and it’s strong? You two are perfect for each other.

Can't you see that?

All those times you and he have kissed, the times he’s touched you intimately, the amount of nights and mornings the both of you have fucked, the number of times the two of you cuddled afterwards, the numerous conversations the two of you have had duringall that time. How could you not see what Mingyu sees?

Has he ever expressed it properly? Or are you just choosing to not see what's directly in front of you? Is there someone else? Does Hansol take you in and give you more tender loving care than he can provide for you? Is he better to you than Mingyu ever could?

Is he not enough?

Maybe. Just maybe.

Perhaps Mingyu hasn't done enough.

Hasn't shown or proven himself to be a suitable partner and be worthy of being able to love you the way you ought to be loved.

And it pisses him off.

He’s fucking jealous. So fucking enraged.

Because all these years, it was only him. Your attention. Your affection. Your time. All for Mingyu alone. Only him. But now? Now things were getting out of his control. Things have changed. And it pisses him the fuck off.

Out of sight, out of mind, was what Mingyu told himself. But in this situation, where it concerns you, it’s different. Seeing you and him together hurts, yet the more he sees, the more the desire to rip Hansol's arms away from you, snatch you away and hide you from his gaze gets stronger.

He needs you. Badly.

Then maybe... he’ll see and stop denying the fact that he's absolutely in love with you.

He tried to see other women after he found out you were dating Hansol, hoping it would do him good. But there was no use. Even while on a date, he would think of you and wish you were the girl in front of him instead.

Mingyu doesn't know when, how or why exactly, but somewhere in the middle of your little 'friends with benefits' thing, he began having feelings for you, and he had no one but himself to blame.

Because while Mingyu knows that he was the one that set that clear boundary between the both of you, it had to be his heart, the one foolishly going ahead and falling for you. It’s only in his fantasies where Mingyu is able to say whatever and do whatever he'd want to you, as many times as he wants and whenever he'd like to. That isn’t what’s actually happening. Because, if it were his choice, no one else would be touching or holding your pretty hands, no one else would see that sleepy smile of yours, or hear you laugh the way he did. No one would be able to wake up next to you, or hold you at night and hear you talk and cry about how the things of your life were weighing too heavy. Only him.

"Dude, you okay?" his best friend's voice interrupts and brings his attention back to reality. Wonwoo sits there, a book open on his lap and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

Mingyu lowers his phone with a sigh, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. "Honestly, I feel like shit, man. I just..."

"If you had only confessed to her before, things would be different," he gives Mingyu a serious look. Wonwoo sighs and leans back, tilting his chair with his foot and rolling backwards on the wheels, facing Mingyu from across the room. "Out of all the other girls you fucked with, Y/N is the longest one you've had yet. Most of the girls that you get involved with never last longer than two weeks, yet for two years she's been stuck by your side," he pauses with a nod, glancing upwards before returning back. "Either she's incredibly loyal to you and tolerates your bullshit, or the two of you really have something special," his deep eyes scrutinize, studying and contemplating.

"I don't know man, but lately, it just hasn't been the same," Mingyu props his arm on his forehead, resting on the pillows. "She keeps ignoring me and hanging out with him," he pouts. "It feels like I did something wrong when I didn't do shit."

Wonwoo sighs, setting his book and notebook down on his desk before standing and walks towards the bathroom. "Honestly I feel like it's both of your faults," his low voice mumbles, staring at his reflection in the mirror and fixing his hair. He glanced towards Mingyu from the cracked door. "We're heading out for dinner tonight."

"Who's coming?" Mingyu asked.

"Everyone."

"Y/N and Hansol too?" Wonwoo nods, and Mingyu lets out a groan.

"Don't be such a child. How are you going to even handle seeing your girlfriend around when we all share the same mutual friends?" Wonwoo takes off his shirt, walking into the closet and fishing out a clean shirt from the hanger.

"She's not my girlfriend," the tall man mutters. "Also, not so great that you'll all be laughing and having a good time and all while I'm moping on the side."

"Not really our fault dude. Maybe next time, try being honest and not fucking up." Wonwoo takes the comb in his hand, styles his hair and looks at himself once more. He takes off the reading glasses on his face, adjusts his round-framed eyeglasses, then grabs a denim jacket. "Hurry up and get ready."

"How the fuck are you supposed to help if you don't even understand," Mingyu stands and mutters the curse to himself. Wonwoo is already walking out the room and closing the door.

"Mingyu hurry your big ass up, or we'll be leaving without you," Seungcheol yells through the door and knocks a few times before walking away.

"Alright I'm coming," Mingyu calls out, moving quickly and picking the first outfit his hands caught. He quickly gets dressed, the stress of the finals wearing on him and adding to his anxiety, not knowing what he might run into next.

You. With your boyfriend.

Just fucking great.

Dinner that night was weird.

For you. Not everyone else.

When your mutual friends decide to get together at a restaurant for dinner and fun. Hansol, who you had been hooking up with for awhile now, clings to your arm. With every laugh or chuckle, he hugs you tight to him. Mingyu sits next to you, silent and glum. You've known him long enough to know his signs. Something is eating at him.

Your heart aches at seeing how crestfallen he seems. And despite being here with Hansol, the fake boyfriend of yours, you keep thinking back and forth between the two men.

Dinner is awkward, to say the least, sitting between Hansol and Mingyu, whose own plate lay abandoned as he sips his alcohol and sighs heavily to himself. He would talk to the others, but not to you, and it hurt more than it should've. Hansol seems a little concerned too, not that Mingyu is outwardly acting odd or hostile towards him or anything. He even goes so far as to squeeze Hansol's shoulders and slap his shoulder, laughing.

When it comes to talking to you or making contact, Mingyu is absolutely avoiding you. He does everything in his power, even ignoring you at times. Mingyu's pained expression is nearly impossible to deal with. His sad and distressed gaze is nearly ripping your insides to shreds, so much you wanted to reach and rub the frown and lines in his face away.

“Mingyu,” you place a hand on his thigh, “you okay?”

"Yeah," his voice comes out quieter and subdued. Mingyu turns his head away quickly, only to find Hansol's worried gaze searching him, noticing the subtle behavior.

"Something wrong man?" he frowns a little, brows knit together in question.

"Don't worry about me. The real question is are you guys doing okay?" Mingyu coughs slightly, and you both feel the tension of the atmosphere building. Mingyu seems off today.

"What makes you think we're not alright?" Hansol smiles lightly and glances over at you with an innocent stare, pressing a chaste kiss upon your lips, and you smile softly.

You don’t have much time to think before Hansol's soft mouth captures yours, the tenderness of the kiss distracting you momentarily. However, it does the exact opposite for Mingyu, whose mood becomes foul. You can tell Mingyu is looking on with his hands clenched. "Just asking, is all," he downs the drink in his cup, sighing as his eyes land on the both of you, stealing a glance that doesn’t go unnoticed. But you don't have the time to register the slight hurt, jealousy and rage that flashes in his orbs. Or how his smile disappears almost instantaneously at seeing Hansol kissing you.

"Can I ask what's eating you then?" Hansol raises a brow, concern filling his stare.

"I just had a stressful week, that's all," his eyes harden, masking the hurt. A pause and a momentary stillness comes.

"Nothing too bad, right?" Hansol shifts closer, slapping his back hard.

"Just exams," Mingyu responds, shrugging him off. "Don't worry too much."

The night wears on, and finally, Mingyu leaves before the rest of you do. The other friends depart before them, leaving you and Hansol to stand and finish your drinks.

"Well that was really something else," he chuckles dryly and breathes deeply, swallowing the cold beverage down, and you sit silently on his right side, leaning your arm against the surface of the table, head propped on the palm of your hand. "Feel free to give me a heads up if I should back down and let him win."

You sigh softly and turn to meet Hansol's eyes, deep and warm pools. But despite his attractive face and the fact that he’s a great guy, he’s no Kim Mingyu. "I just...don't know." You admit, pursing your lips. Hansol has been nothing short of great and a generous lover and guy.

But he isn't Kim fucking Mingyu, you reasoned with yourself.

"It's a complicated situation, I won't rush you," he nods and slips on his jacket. Hansol offers a hand to you with an endearing and honest smile, one that brings butterflies to your stomach. "Why don't you see him tonight? Then decide? I think it's time."

"Really?" you’re surprised, taking his offered hand. You bite your lip and squeeze his hand once.

"Go," he lets out a sigh and kisses the back of your hand, smiling. "Before he's gone, and there is no chance left."

It doesn’t take long for Mingyu to return home, unlocking and swinging his door open. He drops his keys in the basket and drags a hand along the wall as he shuts the door, then drops his leather jacket down on the sofa.

He’s exhausted; too drained mentally, physically and emotionally for this shit.

He lets out a frustrated growl, one so powerful it startles even himself when it comes out.

There are more reasons for Mingyu to not want to be around the others anymore, and it’s frustrating, knowing he’ll have to do a hell lot of pretending that he’s fine. In front of them. When it is in fact far from that. He takes out his phone, the screen bright and a picture of the both of you was the wallpaper, smiling so cutely, so happily that the frustration and irritation within Mingyu only builds higher and higher.

Hansol is treating you well, isn't he? He must be, judging the way you stare up at him with loving orbs and that fucking grin. How could he ever do better and love you more than that fucker is?

It pisses him off to no end.

"Mingyu," a voice speaks.

He jerks his gaze up and notices you standing by the door..

He sighs, sitting down on the couch and groaning in his hand. "Y/N what are you doing here? How'd you get in?" He mumbles.

"I still have the spare, remember?" your voice comes softly and hesitantly. Mingyu inhales deeply, a shiver racking throughout his frame.

"Shouldn't you be with Hansol?" his eyes meet yours, cold. "I thought you guys are in love and stuff," the tone has bite, and he refuses to break contact. His fist clenches and unclenches, eyes narrowing, staring.

"Mingyu, please," you whisper brokenly. "Don't."

"Why not Y/N? Am I just some sort of fool to play around with? Is that all you saw me as, as some stupid person that wouldn't mind being made a fool of?" Mingyu's head is filled with all sorts of images, thoughts and feelings.

"That’s not—"

"Then what?" he interrupts, jaw ticking in anger. "What is it exactly you saw in me? For two whole years, is this all we were worth? Sexual companions and nothing more?" Mingyu snaps, brows pinched and his jawline taut. "Or maybe for the longest time, I was a joke to you. Or a convenient person to spend your lonely nights with," he doesn’t intend for his words to cut so deep, but they do, and when you cringe visibly and flinch, his chest tightens in regret and guilt.

"You think I don't know how badly I messed up, Mingyu? You don't think I regret not giving a proper answer when you kept asking me to be your girlfriend?" tears cloud your vision. "You don't think I keep feeling the pangs of pain and confusion, with so many what-if's and maybe's whenever I am near you?" you approach slowly, standing in front of Mingyu. His expression remains hardened, refusing to express any emotion and let himself feel weak. "I'm scared, Mingyu," your voice lowers, whispering and afraid to meet his gaze, as the truth will probably get spilled at a moment's notice.

"Don't do that," his tone softens a fraction. "Please, don't pull that bullshit," he looks away.

"Mingyu, I'm scared that if we take things further, and we inevitably drift apart, then what do I have left?" the ache in your heart twists and pierces sharply. "What will I do if I get addicted to you, and everything that has happened up to this point falls away?" the air shifts, as silence weighs between. Tears fill the rims of your eyes, and you finally look up, locking your gaze on Mingyu's brown irises. "What will I do if you grow bored of me like all the others you've been with before?" your voice cracks slightly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

His features relax, hardened gaze becoming vulnerable. He stands, reaching out. You watch as his large hand reaches and cups your cheek gently, carefully. He steps closer, holding your face delicately and pulling you in towards him, soft gaze fixated on your orbs, filled with nothing but sincerity. The back of his fingers caress you, trailing along your jawline.

"Y/N," your name falls off his lips so effortlessly, a hush from his lips. You press forward, wrapping your arms around Mingyu's middle. And for the first time in a long time, the both of you let things go naturally, simply standing, embracing each other. He holds you tighter, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the faint scent of the shampoo he knows you use every morning, memorizing it in case you become nothing but a memory. Mingyu's larger frame dwarfs yours, shielding you, embracing you tightly against his muscular torso.

"Mingyu, I'm sorry, I really am," the whisper is quiet, and yet it cracks in the silence between, almost as if it has never existed. "I should've talked to you, communicated and been truthful. I was just so scared and I felt like, ‘this might end’." The admission is tender.

His lips are set on your forehead, lingering for a few seconds, and then Mingyu pulls away, taking hold of your face in his large, steady palms. The dark depths of his brown eyes hold your gaze, reflecting the slight hint of emotion behind it. Your fingers come and grasp hold of his wrists. You almost allow yourself to melt when Mingyu brushes your hair, fixing the strand out of your face and running a finger along the skin below your ear. The tips of his fingers stay there for the next seconds.

"Y/N, I need an honest answer from you, and a direct one," a moment passes, and Mingyu's words still hang in the air. You pull away and glance back with teary eyes. "Do you really and honestly have feelings for me?" his orbs flicker downward, lips pressed in a thin line. He won't speak until you do.

"Yes," it takes you less than a second to utter the one word, yet it feels like an eternity has passed. "Please..." the word leaves your lips. "I need you."

"What about Hansol?" his jaw clenches briefly.

"No, Mingyu," your teeth nibble your bottom lip. "Right now, it's just you and me. Just us," you begin, and he presses you back, pushing you slowly into the wall. Mingyu leans his head back and takes a moment to collect his thoughts before swooping down to claim your soft lips.

Your arms move swiftly, holding onto his shoulders, clawing at the fabric of his shirt, the contact sending electricity through him. He continues the desperate action, deepening and molding, matching your actions. He makes no attempt to stop or pull away. And despite the strength and intensity behind the kiss, his tenderness isstill there, coming through in every sense of the word.

For so many nights, you've dreamed of and reminisced upon these past experiences of Mingyu kissing you, just like he is. Inhaling the smell and fragrance which was utterly his own. Of the sweet taste, of the taste that never seems to diminish nor fade away despite how long it's been.

Like it's his very first kiss, and he's desperate to never lose such an unforgettable taste. It’s the urge to say, “Fuck everything else, who cares.” You had never wanted to get so lost in him. The heat of his hands burns on your skin, even after the touch is gone. He moves, unable to stay still while kissing you. A small groan from the back of your throat elicits from the pressure against the wall, and he hoists you up, forcing your legs around his waist. He's immediately hard for you.

His arousal thickens, his body stiff. Mingyu pants, eyes closing, groaning softly as you roll your hips. His hand lowers and squeezes the flesh of your ass, grinding and thrusting his lower half with desperate movement, making sure to match your rhythm.

When it's time, you want to savor it. To commit everything into memory, every curve, slope and dip of his muscular figure.

"Say my name," he purrs into your ear. "I want to hear it."

"Mingyu," it falls from you softly, an echo in his ears and an unadulterated moan of a prayer.

He carries you to the couch and sits, bringing your bodies as close as humanly possible. He runs his lips up your neck, making his way back to the lips he loves so desperately, tongues fighting for dominance. "Again, baby girl. Please," he whispers against your lips. His hot breath mingles with yours as his fingers trace every crevice of your figure, his lips hungry and demanding.

Mingyu wants to taste you in ways you could only ever imagine. In ways you want, no, need so badly.

"Again," he growls, eyes trained on you, hunger clear in his eyes as he stares into you. "Say it."

"Mingyu," you’re practically pleading, staring deep into his eyes. "Mingyu," you whisper into the kiss and feel the vibrations in his throat. He smiles against your mouth and pushes back your hair, continuing to move in the most intimate position, to match his every rock against you.

"It sounds so good when you call my name like that." The growl is deep from his throat, and his words slur from intoxication, from being drunk off the very essence of you and only you. "Did you and Hansol fuck a lot like we did?" The thought and mention of someone else brings his desire down temporarily, but the satisfaction to be one with you is far stronger.

"Why? What are you going to do if we did?" The daring tone in your voice is unexpected.

“Gonna fuck you so good so that you forget any name but mine, and any guy but me. So fucking good you can only scream my name and remember that you were made for me," he groans and pants, hips bucking. "So good that you won't even think of another cock but mine." His hands draw your shirt above your head, and his lips leave yours, moving down to your throat. He latches onto the sensitive spots and sucks, tongue dipping into the crevices, tasting and savoring every part of your body he has the pleasure of reaching. Mingyu sucks, tongue swirling patterns, and he presses into the bite, his hips raised. "And so good that you'll be satisfied by nobody but me and only me."

He rips his own shirt off before proceeding, mouthing down and nipping at the valley in-between your breasts, sucking a small hickey at the spot.

“What if Wonwoo and Seungcheol come back early? What happens if they see what's going on between us, Mingyu?" You gasp.

"Let them watch. What I do with you doesn't concern them, or anybody for that matter," he growls, looking into your eyes. "We've fucked at all those parties, in dark alleys and dark bedrooms when everyone's around. What's one more show for them to see?"

His audacity is almost unbelievable. Mingyu never did mind putting on a show in the most extreme and risky manner. It was a clear sign of his adrenaline and recklessness. Or he’s gone so crazy for you that nobody matters at this point in time.

"Can’t we fuck in a bed for once? Please? I can't count on all of my fingers how many times you’ve fucked me against walls, and desks and tables," you argue, lightly shoving Mingyu back. He laughs and nods, following suit and backing away. He lifts you effortlessly, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and wrap your legs securely around his waist. You nuzzle the spot under his jaw, whispering "Good boy."

He groans softly in response.

The moment his bedroom door opens, Mingyu practically throws you on the mattress and hovers. He's quick to pull off the rest of your clothes and toss them elsewhere, not worrying where they may end up.

You tug on his belt and throw it to the ground. Mingyu kicks off his pants and boxers next, quickly. Once he's stripped and bare for you, he parts your legs further and moves between them, caging your smaller frame in as he reaches up to hold the headboard with his fist. You run your hands up his toned torso, all the way up, and your fingers graze and tickle the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me what you want, and it's yours," his gaze holds an unfamiliar edge. Something foreign and different, dark and dangerous. It awakens a part of you that makes your muscles tighten.

"Anything?"

"Anything," he answers quickly.

Your fingers card through the silky black strands on Mingyu's scalp. "Want you to eat me out, Gyu. Wanna fuck myself on your face."

With a smirk and a roll of his eyes, he starts his way south on your body. He pecks down your chest, between the valley of your breasts and lower. Leaving light marks and red patches, the slight pain brings out the need and want within.

"Missed me, baby?" a smug grin stretches as his nose bumps your clit, leaning down to leave feathery kisses along the inside of your inner thigh. "How badly did you miss this?"

"So fucking much," you grit, hands curling into his hair.

"Tell me about it," Mingyu kisses the sensitive spots and teases, adding in light nips every now and then. The vibrations from his throat shoot all the way up to his tongue, and you moan at the contact. "Felt so empty and incomplete when you couldn't have me?" The tease is clearly evident as his large hands spread your thighs, a pleased and smug hum leaving his mouth as he pushes his tongue flat.

"Fuck," you grip tighter, tugging on the dark strands and throwing your head back into the pillow. Your feet dig into his back and shoulders for leverage, attempting to gain back control, but Mingyu won’t budge and seems perfectly content staying where he is and letting his mouth and tongue do the work. Mingyu continues to press against your folds and lap along them slowly, eyes trained on your expression, on your lips parted in ecstasy and the hazed look of bliss that coats your orbs.

"Look at that," Mingyu says, flicking your clit with his finger before replacing his fingers with his tongue, "That's my good girl."

He continues, tongue tracing all the right places, stimulating each part, pressing and circling your bundle of nerves over and over. You whimper, holding tighter onto the mattress, digging in your nails.

"Who," Mingyu pauses, smirking wickedly up at you. "Who is making you feel this way?"

"You, only you," the cry leaves you before you know it.

"My name, baby. Say my name," he licks across once, causing you to shake, before a shudder shoots down your spine.

"Oh fuck, please," a desperate sob comes out, and a broken moan follows.

"My name, Y/N," He punctuates every syllable with a torturously slow drag of his tongue. He knows just how to break you. How to leave you at his mercy, so that you’ll be nothing but his. Only his.

"Mingyu," you whine, and he groans in response, a satisfied sound.

"Good job, baby girl," a deep whisper into your thigh. His hands pin your legs apart, preventing them from trapping his head or slowing him down. Mingyu closes his mouth around you and sucks, tongue darting to lick inside. You arch your back off of the sheets, unable to speak coherently or think straight. "Keep talking," Mingyu breathes. "Tell me how fucking great my mouth feels."

"Holy shit, oh shit," the string of curses falls from your lips.

"Give me more; don't hold out. I want to hear all of it. Give it all to me," the fire of his words is fuelled when he returns to circle the flat of his tongue against your clit, and you let go, free falling into the abyss.

Your orgasm rocks through you, and you whine at the overwhelming sensation, arching your spine and gripping his hair. Mingyu moans, continuing his movements.

He holds himself up on both of his elbows, tucking his head and grinning, satisfied with his actions. Your breathing remains heavy as he pulls himself up, closer. He braces himself on his forearms, hovering, looking down at you, a small smile and contentment settling on his features.

Mingyu's right hand moves to cup the side of your neck, his thumb stroking across your collarbone. You turned, opening your eyes slowly to gaze up at his handsome face. The soft lighting washes over his bare shoulders, accentuating the outline, the dips and crevices of his body. "Hey," he leans down, nose bumping gently.

"Hey yourself," the giggle bubbles out, and you run a hand across the back of Mingyu's neck and down his back. "So..." you hum, shuffling in your spot to meet his gaze head-on.

"So..." Mingyu imitates playfully, a twinkle and glint reflecting the faintness of the light in his orbs.

You laugh, hooking a leg over his waist. His nose comes down and trails across your neck and shoulder, his warm lips grazing skin. "Are you going to keep staring? Or..." you lift a brow, smirk evident.

"Someone's eager," Mingyu's fingers dig into the sheets, his length brushing your skin. The familiar throb of desire begins to grow as his length drags.

"And someone's taking their precious sweet time," you pout.

"Let me savor this," he whispers into the column of your throat. "I missed you and your body, everything about you." He kisses, tongue sliding against flesh.

"You know how to make a woman swoon, don't you?" you hum, letting out a soft gasp when the pad of his thumb begins circling your entrance, lightly stroking.

"I only do that when the woman's you, so I'll take it as a compliment." His fingers sink into you with no warning, filling you entirely and curling immediately in all the ways you need and want.

"Shit," you let out a moan.

Mingyu kisses along your neck as his fingers thrust, withdrawing them slowly. His head is bent forward so his lips can find the pulse-point along your throat, and his body is flush against yours as he resumes kissing and sucking and nibbling there, allowing the warmth of your body, the sound of your whimpers to guide him.

"Does that feel good, baby girl?" His thumb curls upwards with his last few thrusts. He nibbles and kisses around the column of your throat before nips just under your chin. His breath washes over your neck, down your neckline, and across your jaw before returning to your earlobe. Your hands scrape lightly at the muscles of his back as he bites the skin behind your ear.

"Ah fuck. Need you, Mingyu," Your words fall out so effortlessly, not holding a care in the world.

He withdraws his fingers and settles his cock against your folds, coating it thoroughly. Slowly, Mingyu rocks his hips and allows his length to slip into you. Once he is fully buried into you, he pauses. You run your hands down his chest and to his shoulders before grasping the taut flesh of his bicep and drawing him down and on top of you. His lips capture yours again, and he shifts his weight onto his arms again. He rolls his hips against you and slides slowly and firmly in and out of you.

God, he fills you so well. Nothing compares. No man compares to the sensations and sparks, not in the same way, nor to the extreme lengths, which he causes in you. Mingyu's nose trails along the skin of your neck, and when his lips press a tender kiss to your throat, you know you wouldn't be able to survive if you were ever without his touches and affection once again.

"Mingyu," a near silent whisper, so light that the smallest breath would send it away, "I... I love you."

His thrusts slow.

His eyes shoot up at the same instant.

Mingyu stares, gazing at you intently. Your hand cups the back of his neck, and you use the other one to brush back his fringe. Mingyu leans his head into your touch, staring, gazing. He breathes slowly, heavily, "Say it again."

He wants to hear it. His large, warm hand slides up and down your cheek, just watching.

"I love you," you turn your lips into his palm, eyes closing. "I love you, Mingyu." You whisper against his palm, the heat and warmth radiating off his skin. "So, so much."

There’s a shift. Something in the air changes when the words fall from your lips and lands onto his.

Mingyu groans, his hand finding yours. He entwines his fingers with yours and pins the limb by the side of your head. "Shit, shit baby, I love you too."

You pull his head forward and kiss him, and as his body is pressed against your naked flesh, all you know is Mingyu's heart pounding hard against you as he buries his face into your neck.

His eyes screw shut tight before repositioning and sitting upright, and you follow, straddling and moving to wrap your arms and legs around him as he grabs onto you, clinging tightly, skin against skin, bare, vulnerable and open. Your breasts press against his torso, and his strong arms wrap around your upper back as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck.

His scent overwhelms and surrounds you, leaving you to only focus on Mingyu. And as he begins rolling his hips in a smooth and gentle rhythm, you focus solely on him, letting your senses be completely captivated by Kim Mingyu and his warmth and being.

Everything feels different.

"I love you," he punctuates. Mingyu keeps repeating the sentence, and as you kiss him, his lips are all over the place, and you’re gasping out the very same words, arching your neck and revealing his name. "I love you. I love you so much, Y/N," his thrusts pick up tempo. The warmth of him surrounds you and wraps and tightens around you.

The angle intensifies the sensation. It increases everything, and his cock hits the spot deep in you. "Fuck," you whisper. "Please, Mingyu, I-"

You're not quite sure exactly what it is you're asking him, but you know, instinctively, you're not the only one who needs more, wants more. He clutches harder, brings you impossibly closer. Your fingers dig into his back. Your head rests on his chest, ear pressed above his heart, hearing its thump against your ears. The noises you make are unadulterated now as Mingyu rocks, grinds and presses into your core, brushing sensitive nerve bundles and sending bursts of pleasure into your nerves.

"I'm yours," Mingyu mutters, gripping you tighter, "and only yours."

He spills deep inside you as he has done numerous times before, but the experience feels different this time, a step taken far greater than the usual sex the two of you engage in. The fact of the matter that the two of you had admitted to the feelings you've been carrying out over these past two years means a lot, everything, to the both of you. You can feel it in the depths of your hearts as he fills and spends himself inside you.

"Stay," Mingyu whispers, placing a delicate, soft and careful peck along the curve of your jaw. His hands slide along your back, the act sensual.The way his fingers dance along your spine is feather-light.

"Do you really think I'd want to go anywhere?" your lips connect with the place just beside his ear. He shifts, shuffling the two of you slowly so that you're on your backs once more, and his large form is still towering over yours and above you.

"Still," Mingyu burrows, face nuzzling and brushing. "I like that you're here. I want you to always be here." His eyes remain half-lidded and heavy when he peeks down and meets your gaze. He takes a long and hard look at you before speaking once more, "Please," a pleading and desperate beg. "Stay, and please stay for good."

"What? You want me to live here?" You raise a brow.

"Would be the easiest solution," Mingyu says, burying his face once more in the crook of your neck. He takes a deep inhale, nostrils expanding. The fingers continue drawing along your skin, never stopping.

"What about Wonwoo and Seungcheol? Won't they say something?" You let out a small laugh, shifting and wiggling to get comfortable under his weight.

"Let me take care of that," he doesn't budge, only stays put. "What about Hansol? Should I be concerned about him? Or others?"

"There's nobody," you brush your hand through his dark locks and chuckle softly, "Never was. We never really dated. It was fake, just hookups. Promise," you grip and hold him as close as possible, never wanting to let him go.

"Sooooo... this is real?" he asks carefully and curiously, almost unsure.

"What do you think?" a laugh, snort, and scoff combined.

"Hmmm, sounds fake." You pinch the muscle, and Mingyu recoils in surprise and shoots you a look before grinning.

"Sounds super real," You snort and shove at his chest, looking into his orbs, and smile.

"Yeah?" the sparkle of his eyes widens, shining.

"Yes, you handsome himbo," your grin matches his.

"Fuck off," his grin only widens more, and the widening spreads to the apples of his cheeks.

"Nah," you sigh, draw the hand across the expanse of the skin, and reach up to cup and caress the side of his face. "I'm sticking around for a long time."

"So you're saying that you finally want to be my girlfriend?" The question is smug, and his words drip with all forms of confidence.

"Only after two years and after a lot of pestering and whining," you mutter the answer.

Mingyu doesn't stop the stupid, lovesick grin plastered on his face from widening any more as he peppers kisses up and along your jaw, pecks scattered all over. His broad, strong arms circle your waist and pull you closer, hold tighter and hug. It's so much. Far too much, and you melt into the embrace, reciprocating and winding your arms around his neck. "About time."

"Shut up."

Mingyu hugs you closer and sighs in contentment and utter joy. It feels as if the weight on his shoulders is lifted, and you wonder why it took so long for the both of you to end up in this moment, being able to freely enjoy and love one another as you truly wish, feeling free for once after hiding it for the past two years.

Hansol sits at the cafe table, spinning his coffee cup around with a bored and unamused expression and gaze. The buzz and bustle is not entertaining in the slightest, but the vibe, people-watching and atmosphere of a cafe is something Hansol is fond of.

You arrive at the location at 1pm on the dot and spot him almost immediately, walking over, shooting a nervous and guilty smile as the seat across him becomes occupied by your frame.

"Hansol," the greeting is quiet and timid.

"You know you don't have to feel bad for choosing Mingyu instead of me. That guy was right for you all along." He sips his hot beverage. "We were never going to work, not when your feelings for Mingyu were, and still are, stronger."

You chew at your bottom lip nervously and stare. "But... I..." your voice dies off in the middle of the sentence, struggling with the right words to speak.

"There's nothing to worry about," Hansol shakes his head with a smile, laughing slightly. "You two belong together, and it was always obvious from day one."

"But we..."

"I'm not saying that I'm giving you up," he grins. "If he ever breaks your heart, you can come running back to me." Hansol winks and raises a suggestive brow.

You roll your eyes, a smile on your lips. "Thanks. Glad I can count on you as a back-up plan."

"If he ever hurts you or anything, he has me and the boys to worry about," he shoots a grin once more.

"Yeah, sure," You laugh and shake your head. "Thanks Hansol," the smile and your gaze soften. "For understanding and everything else."

"Well," he pauses and sighs softly. "We had a great time together, didn't we?" He grins once more, and you laugh along with him.

"One helluva' good ride," you agree.

"Hey, what can I say, I'm the best," he winks and waggles his brows.

You giggle, amused. "Shut up, you big dork."

Hansol laughs. "And I'm guessing now that you've finally pulled the bandage off and are officially dating the idiot, I'm free to get back to actually doing what I want?"

You nod with a laugh. "Yeah. Yes, totally. Go on a rampage. I won't judge. Besides, there's a lot of fish in the sea."

Hansol lets out a laugh, breathless and leaning back in his chair. "That is the damn truth."

"Woah," an all too familiar voice calls your attention, and your head snaps up to see Mingyu approaching the two of you. A huff and breath later, he plops down onto the free chair. "If it isn't two of the greatest pains in my ass."

Hansol smirks. "Hey Mingyu," he greets with a laugh.

Mingyu pulls you onto his lap, his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck and sighing contentedly. You roll your eyes, lips pulled into a smile. Hansol raises a brow in question, lifting the coffee mug to his lips and hiding an amused grin.

"Yo, I’m still here," Hansol laughs.

"Go away," the response leaves Mingyu's lips as he pouts, nipping at the exposed skin along the column of your throat.

Hansol laughs once again and smiles. "Nah, this is a free public area," he grins teasingly, pointing towards the rest of the establishment.

"Who the hell cares," Mingyu mumbles against your skin.

"Stop it," you giggle, poking at his bicep.

"Shuddup, you guys are gross," Minghao drops down into a seat at the table, glaring at the two of you and sipping on his iced drink.

Mingyu sits upright and holds you firmly, arm secure around your middle.

"Knew he'd catch up and join," Hansol hums, sitting up and kicking his feet. He adjusts in his chair and gestures toward the empty fourth one.

"It's been awhile since we've hung out," Soonyoung mutters as he takes a seat.

"Ah, we can't exactly hang with them much anymore since they're attached at the damn hip,," Hansol snorts, casting a sideways glance.

"What’s wrong with me being with my boyfriend?” you purse your lips and make an attempt to keep the amused grin off your face.

Mingyu pulls you against his chest even tighter and chuckles as Minghao gives him a look, with Soonyoung snorting next to him.

"Disgusting," Minghao rolls his eyes.

"Glad you both sorted your shit out, though," Soonyoung says.

"You're not even a little disgusted by them being this clingy?" Hansol gestures dramatically toward Mingyu, who's pulling you deeper into his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, face buried, breathing in and enjoying his scent.

"Meh," Minghao shrugs noncommittally as he waves a dismissive hand. "Been around them way too fucking often," his expression shows minor discomfort and revulsion as Mingyu runs his nose and mouth across your neck.

“Okay lovebirds, go home and do all that shit in the comfort and privacy of the apartment," Hansol barks, amused.

"Wait until they have the wedding and honeymoon," Soonyoung bites down on a shit-eating smirk.

"Cute," Hansol coos sarcastically, kicking lightly at Mingyu's shin as the older man stops his movement for a split second, giving him a look, before returning to his activity of cuddling and loving and embracing.

"Love you," the sound is muffled.

"Love you too," you answer.

And you really do mean it. Every word of it.

284 notes · View notes

menelausblues · 12 days ago

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tuesdays.

꒰ your roommate xavier is odd and quite specific. ꒱

𖥔 ݁ 12.5k. no evol, roommates to lovers au. video game developer x student mc/reader. xavier is a shy guy. rafayel cameo as your quirky neighbor. xavier and mc cook together. somewhat slow burn? domestic fluff. misunderstandings. jealousy. light angst. humor. ❀ ݁ this is old, very old. n i've re-written it for several fandoms atp but it belongs to xavier now n this is the last time i'll put it out there lmao.

mdni.

having xavier as a roommate doesn’t necessarily cause you any problems in your everyday life, but boy is he a rather peculiar man from time to time.

sharing space with him is an overall easygoing and even enjoyable experience due to his reserved and borderline reclusive nature.

he’s quiet, rarely has guests, and doesn’t pester you. he’s also quite domestic, which seems to indirectly benefit you. his areas are well-kept and consistently clean. he stays on top of household finances and shopkeeping. he enjoys cooking and often feeds you.

when you’re gone for the entire day from morning until night, either at work or shuffling through campus, you come home to an extra serving waiting for you. though, he’s never anywhere in sight. ( admittedly, you did eat his extras without permission the first time, but now, he delegates them to you in space-themed bento box you think he’s had since he was a boy. )

considering he sleeps quite early in order to wake up at the first breath of every morning, and you finally consume your second meal of the day alone in the dimly lit kitchen at 11:30 pm, there’s never an appropriate time to thank him. so, you instead leave a sticky note that reads, ‘thank you for the food. i ate well!’ on the coffee machine, the first place he looks each morning. you know this because every day, promptly at 7:15 am, you’re roused from your slumber by the pleasant aroma of coffee brewing and clinging to the air, seeping through all the walls. it’s a habit of his that cultivates comfort, a sense of home. you don’t even like coffee, but his routine is oddly like an alarm, a signal to your body that the day is beginning and rising with him. shortly after his brew begins, your eyes flutter open, humming contentedly as you take in the scent and stretch the sleep out of your limbs. xavier is kind enough. he doesn’t make many demands of you and asks for a reasonable amount to rent his spare room. of all the people and places you could have secured last-minute housing for university, you’re quite fortunate to end up with xavier.

he’s a simple guy, not one for many words, communicating in mostly happy hums, gentle sighs, and soft nods ( when you actually see him come slinking out of his bedroom or enter quietly from wherever he spends his day, that is. ) but despite being mostly pleasant and tolerable, he still has these oddities that make you quirk a brow at him, utterly perplexed. firstly, he nitpicks the number of paper towels you use at once. on one of the rare occasions you mutually linger in the common space other than tuesday, you have the audacity to wash your hands in front of him — dry them, no less. naturally, like any other, you grab paper towels to dry, and you feel his eyes locked on your side profile, watching diligently from the dining table. his eyes, little seas you can drown in, shamelessly bore into you. he analyzes you carefully — judges you.

you meet his eyes slowly, unusually nervous. you feel as if you’re being heavily and thoroughly scrutinized. his displeasure pierces the air with terrifying persistence.

“uh…is everything okay?” “you use a lot of paper towels at once.” he notes quietly, never tearing his gaze from yours. “it’s pretty wasteful.” he admittedly didn’t state it with malice, only moderate concern at best. when he says it, you look down between your palms where a bundle of paper towels are bunched.

you can admit it’s more than you actually needed, but it’s such an odd thing to want to observe and take note of, such a specific behavior to apply feedback to. you look back up at him, blinking slowly. “sorry?” you offer half-heartedly. “is there a certain amount you’d like me to use at a time?” you try your damndest not to let the severity of your bubbling agitation show, but you hear it slip in the way you offer him a careless apology and defensive inquiry about a solution. to your dismay, xavier only hums, ignoring your attitude and seriously considering your notion. “ideally, paper towels should only be used for spills and messes, so as to not permanently stain our cloth towels. considering there are two hundred and eight sheets in total, at an average cost of five diamonds per roll, making each sheet worth just under two-point-five gold, it’d be objectively more cost-efficient and environmentally friendly if you…placed a cloth towel there specifically to dry your hands and include it in your laundry cycle regularly. that’s what i do. it’s…the most reasonable option.” “uh…huh.” you say it slowly, trying to wrap your mind around why it took a boy who hardly ever speaks so many words to arrive at a simple conclusion: put a hand towel there instead. “i’ll put a towel there. i’m sorry for being wasteful.” he nods, his hard gaze softening and moving back to previous stimuli. “thank you for acknowledging my concern.” in truth, you don’t even get a chance to add a towel. xavier does it himself. the next time you’re in the kitchen, you notice he’s left an additional towel hanging right next to his, identical. the sight of it causes you to shake your head and chuckle to yourself, lips tilting into a grin.

peculiar boy.

coupled with his obtuse observational interests is xavier’s odd attachment to tiny, mundane instances inside his routine. specifically, everyone coming home on time. every tuesday you only have a single class in the morning, and you also have a day off from your part-time job. so, you usually stroll back into the apartment by mid-afternoon. xavier is never there when you arrive, and you don’t know much about what he does with his time during the day. at most, you know he’s already graduated university. you know he must make decent money considering his capacity for keeping the entire house’s basic needs met. you figure he has to do something during the daytime.

that, or it’s nepotism.

what it is? you’re uncertain, but he always carries a backpack stuffed full, and his laptop is always tucked securely under his arm within a protective sleeve. xavier is a habitual creature through and through, dancing in the spaces of predictability with perceivable glee. he arrives back home by 4:30 consistently. by that time, you’re usually engrossed in a book, spread out on the living room floor studying, or curled up on the couch watching dramas whenever he finally arrives. you never make eye contact or redirect your attention from what it’s already fixated on, but you do always absentmindedly greet him the same way each time: “welcome home.”

he always gives you a small hello and immediately retreats to his room without another word. sometime around six, he emerges from his room and comes to the common space to ask if you want dinner. tuesday evening is the only occasion during the week you’re able to try the things he makes fresh, rather than reheating them. and you both sit in an incredibly comforting, idle silence while you eat. there’s never expectations to entertain one another or engage in meaningless small talk. you compliment his meal, thank him, and tell him you ate well. it’s never a lie. xavier is an exceptional cook. but on one particular tuesday in question, he comes stumbling into the apartment at 2:45 pm, significantly earlier than usual, and he’s in an evident frenzy. he comes in, kicks his shoes off at the door with little regard ( entirely unlike him ), and moans begrudgingly as he shuffles back toward his room, defeat loud and palpable.

“welcom—” the greeting dies on your lips, hearing his long string of audible dread and looking after him as he scurries down the hall. “xavier?” you call after him. you watch his tall figure pause and turn back towards you when he hears you, his cerulean eyes round and wide with apprehension and fear. “yes?” “rough day?” you ask him softly, trying not to overwhelm him even more. “you’re home pretty early and you have this distinct look of terror.” you try to joke lightheartedly, but he sighs in response, looking down at his feet. “it is a rough day and it’s only going to get worse. i don’t know what to do.” “do you need help with something?” “i…i think so? i have friends coming over. i’ve never had anyone over here. i don’t…do that. i’ve never made that much food. i feel like i won’t be able to get done in time and clean myself up.” “you seem really stressed out about this. how many people are coming?” “…two,” he answers sheepishly. “but additional mouths to feed means more time and honestly, i don’t have any time. i left work early so i could try to make this happen, but now it means i’m going to be behind on the schedule i put together for my project and this is…it’s…it’s fussing up my routine. that's making me stressed. i’m sorry. i’m sorry . i know i’m just blubbering and prattling right now.” “xavier,” you say softly, giving him a sympathetic smile. “it’s okay. i get it. i hate when my day gets thrown off, too. i’m not doing anything particularly important if you want help with making dinner. are there things you need from the store or anything? i can take care of that while you wash up and relax for a bit.”

he’s quiet for a moment as if he doesn’t know what to say. he just stares at you with an unreadable expression, nods once — quite curtly — and turns back toward his room. you don’t take it any kind of way, knowing he often responds pretty similarly. you figure he just isn’t used to requesting or receiving help, but it’s fine. you can and will follow through. xavier doesn’t realize what a load he takes off your shoulder by providing you with regular meals. in your mind, the least you can do is eat well, be mindful of your paper towel use, and offer helpful hands when applicable. later when the two of you are prepping dinner and simultaneously trying to make the apartment feel ‘guest ready’, you keep noticing him glance over at you, but he doesn’t speak. actually, he hardly says anything at all the entire time you work together. it’s such a strange contradiction. he presents himself as shy and reserved because he simply dosen’t speak, but when he does speak, he seems to talk a mile a minute or be unnecessarily long-winded at an average speed. there isn’t really an in-between thus far, and you’d lived with him for nearly a year. unable to endure any more of his silent but blatant gazes, you snap your head to him, a little curious and also frustrated. “why are you staring at me? did i do something again?” “no,” his head shakes as he blinks, seeming a bit taken aback by your tone. “i was…thinking that i’m really grateful that you were willing to help me with this. i don’t have enough time to finish all my work. i don’t have enough time to see my friends or have dinner with them. i don’t have enough time to spend with myself. but i’m trying to do it anyway because…it matters, you know? but i was…in a panic earlier. i get really stuck on my routines. inconsistencies just make my brain itch. i was feeling really overwhelmed and your offer to go gather the things i needed just so i could shower and breathe for ten minutes…meant…a lot to me. so…thank you. also…i’m sorry…for staring. i have this really bad habit of not knowing what to say, so i say nothing or… everything.”

to his apparent surprise, you giggle. his eyes widen a bit at the sound. “yeah, i noticed that about you, actually.” you place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “no problem. we’ve been here together for a while now, yeah? it’s only natural that sometimes we need to rely on each other. it’s kind of like how you leave me your extras from dinner for when i get home. i…otherwise would only eat once a day most days. i move around a lot. i forget about it, and by the time i get home, i’m too exhausted to make food. i’m grateful for how you’re willing to help me, too.” you didn’t expect to see his face flush red or for him to look down as if staring at his feet will make the bright, rosy tips of his ears disappear.

“yeah…no problem. i guess you’re right.” “so…what is it that you do for work? what’s so time-consuming that you essentially have no life outside of it?” you ask. although you’re curious about his line of work, you ask him for his benefit, so he doesn’t feel embarrassed for feeling flustered after your exchange. you’re starting to figure out that although xavier appears and presents as if his lack of social involvement is a personal preference and choice, being a loner is not just a stylistic choice but an inevitable outcome.

he’s clearly socially inept. when you guys eat in thick silence, it’s not because he’s wading in an endless sea of comfortable notions and doesn’t feel the need to speak. he doesn’t know what to say, so he opts for absolutely nothing. small talk is likely not something he’s familiar with or perhaps even cares about. he has to be coaxed out of his fretful foundation just to express that he needs help. he communicates in grunts, nods, and sighs because it’s easier than navigating a flow of back and forth in conversation. “i’m a video game designer. i…work on actions and movements mostly. the physics of it all. when characters engage in combat or how they interact with certain parts of the environment in open-world games? i’m part of the team that goes behind creating things like that. we give the characters life and motion. it’s…pretty cool considering it’s been my dream job since i was young, but it’s a lot of hard work. we’re working on a really important game right now. it could put our team on the map with. so, i have to do my best. i can’t let my team down.” you hum, impressed. “that’s actually really cool. i kind of figured you were a nerd in some capacity. you’re a cool nerd with a cool job.” he laughs then, light and quiet but saccharine sweet. “i wouldn’t say i’m a nerd. i have a deep understanding of my personal interests. it doesn’t make me nerdy. just knowledgeable.”

you nod in agreement but hum in protest. “no, it doesn’t make you nerdy, but telling someone they use too many paper towels and proceeding to itemize the cost of a single sheet on a whim is…not, not nerdy.” you explain, clicking your tongue. he pouts. “i thought that information was relevant to helping you understand my stance.” “i would’ve understood even if you didn’t explain, xavier. it’s your apartment and you buy all the paper towels. it’s not wrong for you to, without explanation, tell me to be mindful of my excessive use.” xavier looks you over, his expression contorted by perceivable perplexity, lips pursed and eyes just staring at you while blinking blankly. “but you clearly were bothered by me bringing it up. that’s why i elaborated like that.” nonchalantly, you shrug. “i wasn’t bothered you brought it up. i just thought you were being peculiar. and you still haven’t been able to escape those allegations, by the way. it’s alright, though. even if we end up having to indict you for your oddities, i’ll still accept you.”

it’s quiet between you both then. xavier seems to have nothing else to offer to the little exchange, and that’s fine with you because when you peek at him again as he’s chopping vegetables, you notice his tiny smile. and you note that the subtle little smile doesn’t leave him for the entirety of the evening. you sit quietly on the opposite side of the room, midding — uninvolved but happily present — observing him engage with his work friends, jeremiah and ulysses. he seems quite comfortable with them. his speech becomes fluid, easy, and even exciting at times. you see a little sparkle in his eyes when they talk about games and how jeremiah is close to finishing is personal passion project.

xavier must love gaming a lot. you wonder if video game development is really his dream activity or just the dream career, and maybe his real passion is something more novel and less technical. regardless, you can’t help the sheer feeling of pride that swirls around in your chest seeing him like this: attentive, involved, lively. it gives you a subtle little smile of your own. and you note that it doesn’t leave you for the entirety of the evening.

among all other observations, the characteristic of xavier’s that confirms the strength of his quirkiness is how he’s suddenly far too concerned with how you spend your tuesdays. it starts the week after you help him prepare his tiny dinner party for his friends, the most peculiar aspects of his behavior. it’s all because on one particular tuesday in question, you never come home after class.

your friend and co-worker, tara, has a date with a girl she’s been flirting with for a while, and you agree to switch shifts. today in exchange for a day you don’t have class and you can stay home, a fair and even trade. you’re tired, hanging on by a thread, but you really need the extra time for the week. ( you work as a waitress at a small restaurant near the university. most students dine between classes or on their lunches. it’s a small but heavily populated establishment. when you volunteer to work on busy days, your boss advances you what you make for that day at the end of the night. it has its perks and its pits. ) while cleaning off the table of a guest who just left, you receive repeated text messages, making your brows furrow as your phone shoots signal after signal in quick succession. who could possibly be texting you this urgently? no one ever does. you glance at the time. 4:32 pm. xavier usually wanders through the door right around now. your expression lifts in light shock as you see he happens to be the source of the incessant sounding.

4:32 pm ⋮ xavier.

are you safe? you’re not at home. it’s tuesday. you’re usually home when i get here. my routine is thrown off.

you roll your eyes reading his messages. he’s being hyperbolic and overdramatic again, but for what? is it really so important that you’re there just to say two words he hardly acknowledges only to hole up in his room until he’s ready to make dinner?

maybe this is his attempt at humor.

you chuckle at the thought of it. xavier is so socially awkward that his jokes don’t even land; they just float in the air, suspended by complexity until someone gets it.

4:34 pm ⋮ you.

you’re being incredibly dramatic. i’m at work. very alive and well. making money to keep feeding us.

4:35 pm ⋮ xavier.

objectively incorrect. i buy all of our food?

4:40 pm ⋮ xavier.

look. no one was here to welcome me home and now i’m back but don’t feel an ounce of welcome about it.

you laugh at his response, very heartily, right in the middle of a restaurant, inwardly beaming with pride because he made a joke. and it was actually kind of funny. only kind of. you start to wonder why it matters so much to you if he grows into himself and becomes comfortable enough to speak freely and easily. why do you feel so invested in his character development? regardless, you hope to see him come out of his shell more. it’s becoming of him.

4:42 pm ⋮ xavier.

will you make it in time for dinner or another long night?

4:44 pm ⋮ you.

probably not. it’s pretty busy and we’re already short-staffed. another long night. aiming to be back by ten tonight. i have homework due at midnight.

4:45 pm ⋮ xavier.

okay…understood. godspeed.

work goes by as it does. it’s always the same formula and equation, just different bodies and times of day. you finally come strolling home at 10:05 pm. you’re dead tired and knowing you still have to finish your homework and submit it is making the exhaustion feel heavier than it probably is. when you head inside, you expect it to be dark, only the light above the stove left on as per usual, but instead, all of the lights are on. the tv is chattering with excitement, playing some kind of variety show, and there’s a spicy, thick aroma in the air that makes you pause briefly to breathe it in. it’s so pleasant. and warm. you walk in, greeted by a scent that feels like a long embrace.

as you stroll through the door, you look to your immediate left where the open layout kitchen is placed. xavier stands next to the stove, chopping vegetables carefully on the counter. “welcome home.” he announces it casually, just as you always do for him, but doesn’t tear his attention away from his task. you don’t know what exactly this is, the shift in his behavioral pattern. you aren’t sure what to name the feelings that attach to it, either, but you appreciate it because today you have an anomaly of your own. you understand it right then: what he means when he says he came back but he didn’t feel welcomed home. you’re always only ‘coming back’ but walking in and being welcomed by him, it feels more like ‘coming home’. you note that there might just be a difference. your voice is tepid and content when you finally speak. “hey, you’re up pretty late.” he only hums in response. you wander over to him, keeping a good grip on all your belongings. “cooking dinner at this hour? pretty unlike you. huh, your routine really did get messed up.” his lips quirk. “yeah, i worked more when i came home instead of eating. i’m still catching up from last week. but i noticed i was starving and then i realized it was almost ten. so i figured i might as well just commit to a curve in my routine. but…what about yours?” his inquiry surprises you a little because he’s initiating small talk with you. at first, your lips just part. “my…routine? uh…yeah? it got thrown off majorly today. i have an assignment due by midnight. i thought i would turn it in by this afternoon, but i got paid in advance for this shift, so that was nice.” xavier abruptly stops cutting his carrots and places the knife down calmly. and then, he just looks at you. it was a very normal look that you could give anyone: stranger, acquaintance, or friend. it was just a simple look, but for some reason, when his eyes meet yours, your heart starts to pick up its rhythm, and you swear you can hear the thump of it crescendo in your ears. he’s so…handsome. it’s not that you’ve never looked at him before. it’s not that you aren’t already aware that he’s a good-looking man. anyone with eyes and reason can see that. it’s just that right now you’re looking at him and he seems like his features have changed, like someone raised the saturation and clarity on his existence. his jawline seems sharper. his soft, blue eyes seem more potent, gleaming cooly. his lips are supple, pink, pouty, and curved quite romantically. he looks like a walking beckoning for affection. his pearly hair is tousled, all in disarray, like he’s been running his fingers through tirelessly. his clothes seem to cling to the thickness of his frame, outlining the definition of his thin but muscular build. he quite obviously works out. you didn’t notice that before, the way fabric bulges around his arms and shoulders. his feathery lashes flutter around lapis when he blinks, all that angelic beauty swirling around so casually. you haven’t looked at him this thoroughly before.

god, he’s pretty.

“you should make sure you respect your resting day routines. you seem to work really hard with…everything you’re doing.” xavier’s voice is soft and caring, cradling his own declaration tenderly. smiling, you nod, swallowing down how flustered suddenly you feel inside, hoping the quickening of your breath doesn’t give it away. “i hear you. it was a one-time thing anyway. now…need help?” “don’t you have homework?” his voice is perplexed. “go work on it. i’ll call you when i’m done.” to this, you reject his suggestion with a shake of your head. “no can do. i think i’m too tired and will take my loss with grace for the sake of a decent meal before midnight. i’ll ask again…need help?” you don’t say what you really mean right then: i think i’d rather spend time in silence with you. it looks like he’s only barely started, likely working on a base for some sort of soup. he has so many scraps laid out everywhere. xavier clears his throat. “uh…yeah…yeah, i do.”

“on it,” you say resolutely. “let me put my stuff up and change. it’ll only take me five and i’ll be back to help.”

after that, you don’t see xavier for the rest of the week. tuesday is really the only day your schedules coordinate enough to see each other even in passing. you don’t miss how disappointment settles in your chest every single time you wander inside at ten or eleven and you don’t see him standing there in the kitchen, back turned to you, nonchalantly welcoming you home. you don’t miss the way you stop yourself from texting him and telling him exactly what he told you: look. no one is here to welcome me back home and now i’m back but don’t feel an ounce of welcome about it. but on the following monday, you receive a surprising notification.

1:08 pm ⋮ xavier.

i would like to formally request permanent assistance with dinner on tuesday evenings. unless work or other contractual obligations prevent participation. it is much more efficient with two sets of hands. and since we both eat, it’s the most ethical and fair.

his formality makes you giggle, as it’s so aligned with who you now understand him to be. once again, smiling fondly to yourself, you think of what a peculiar boy he is. his request at its core is perfectly fair. he does buy all the food and cook it but you both enjoy the fruits of his labor. so if it’s a regular thing, you realistically should help him without a single qualm. that’s the line of reasoning you offer for the sheer speed of your response, agreeing to give away all your foreseeable tuesdays to him: in all fairness.

1:09 pm ⋮ you.

sure thing xavi.

you don’t miss the way it’s the first time you’ve ever called him by or given him any kind of nickname. you don’t miss the way you feel nervous to send it, as if being denied casual exchanges with him will have a significant impact on your emotions. now you’re the one acting peculiarly. for three weeks, on three consecutive tuesdays, you and xavier rally together in the kitchen, pick a recipe to follow, assign your roles, complete your duties, and successfully make meals together around six o’clock. for three consecutive tuesdays, you sit together at the table and eat well, sometimes in silence, but sometimes in comfortable, slow-paced conversation. the most surprising evolution is the budding presence of his attempts at small talk. “i don’t know how i feel about this recipe.” xavier admits after devouring the meat he’s made. “i don’t care for this marinade at all.” you, mouth full and consumption bordering barbaric, look confused. when you swallow, you have to inquire about why he feels this way. it’s quite delicious. and you can’t fathom him not liking it considering he ate all of it. “what? you didn’t like it? how? i think it’s incredible. probably your best yet. the meat is so, so tender and it’s very flavorful but not overwhelming. it pairs really well with this little sauce we made!” “you enjoyed it?” xavier asks. you notice then that he’s biting his lip rather nervously. “or are you only saying that because we spent a considerable amount of time on this one?” you grin, rolling your eyes. “why would i lie? you’re a good cook, xavi. seriously…i’ve never not enjoyed the food you’ve cooked. you did really well on the meat. and judging by your happy plate, i think you know that.” you figure out quickly that it isn’t that he doesn’t like it, but that he wants someone else to say he did a good job but doesn’t want to ask directly until an opinion is already offered.

he even seeks praise awkwardly. how endearing.

he doesn’t speak, only lowers his head with that subtle smile you’ve come to find yourself craving the sight of. admittedly, you enjoy this blooming tradition that the two of you are building. you feel excited for him to come home, eager for him to finish resting up and come out at six, ready to get started, ready to talk to you or just stand by your side. moreover, you really enjoy not eating dinner alone. you enjoy his proximity even in your settled silence. it always feels more like home when he’s here and you are, too, both parallel or perpendicular to the other. “this is nice.” you tell him warmly. “i kinda like our new tradition.” “oh,” he breathes softly. “i…” his head rises quickly and he looks at you, those icy eyes you’ve grown particularly fond of now slightly widened. you don’t know if you’re just seeing what your own unspoken feelings want to see, but it looks like longing looking back at you. his hand rests on the table and you glance down, only for a fraction of a moment, considering reaching your own out to find the answer to a theory you’ve constructed in the last few weeks: you think his hands might be incredibly soft. “well, um. i…that’s…good to know. i think that maybe…um, i…” ( your mind begs you to let it be known that he’s stammering and you’re staring, but your thoughts are ever so slightly somewhere else. ) you notice when he washes his hands, he pats them dry lightly with his towel. delicate. and he always opens the drawer below immediately after to pull out a tiny bottle of hand cream. every single time. habitual. he applies a dollop and rubs it all in gingerly. he makes sure to get all the nooks and crannies of his hands, the dips and the divots. thorough. patient. soft. satin. he seems to care a great deal about his hands, takes good care of them and the things they touch. you lick your lips and look away. “i’m sorry…i…uh…don’t know what to say i think and…” you cut him off. “is it a mutual understanding?” “what?” “do you…like our little tradition as well?” a slow, timid, soundless nod. you respond with tilted lips. “then…you can just say…i like it, too.” he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, but the look he gives you is becoming clearer, and you can’t look directly for too long or you’ll melt right before him.

xavier turns out to be a lot like the sun, and if you aren’t careful, your heart might try to become like spring and bloom for him. “i…like it, too.” he says finally. humming, you turn your attention back towards your food, looking away, and for the first time, being the one with nothing left to say. all the things you want to say officially teeter off the cusp of amiability and drop straight into a giant vat of arousal. after a moment, your body becomes so hot you can’t stand just sitting there anymore, so dinner ends abruptly with xavier telling you to leave your dishes and he’ll take care of them. you only nod and offer him a quiet thank you and a friendly goodnight. then you wander off to your room in a daze wondering if he noticed you squirming in your seat. he’s so domestic, you’re about to cum off the strength of existing in the same house as him. ( and that’s not good because you’re always in the same house as him. ) the things you watch him do in the kitchen, it’s all just so homely. there’s a kind of strength in a man who appreciates homemaking that makes you weak. telling you to make sure to preheat the oven, putting on his mitts to check on the food, setting timers, and tying an apron around his waist. cutting vegetables. using measuring cups.

‘slice, not dice. here, let me show you. watch.’

the way his triceps and biceps flex at the motion of his very intentional cuts, the way he’s always rolling up his sleeves, even when they’re short-sleeved shirts like a goddamn tease, basically begging to be turned into a husband and a father overnight.

it’s sickening. you officially want him so bad you want to throw up.

the orgasm you have in your room — stifling the sound of your moans and the sound of you quietly calling out his name when you did — spells it out quite clearly for you even if you don’t want to acknowledge it outright.

you like him. a lot. it’s absolutely sickening.

on thursday, another anomaly occurs in your schedule. a few actually, and all of them are pleasant. the first anomaly is relaxation. you don’t have class and since tara keeps up her end of the deal, you have an entire day at home to enjoy your alone time. but, as usual, you wake to the pleasant aroma of coffee. you smile even harder knowing there’s nowhere for you to be so you can move as quickly or as slowly as you like.

it means that maybe you can go have coffee with xavier before he leaves for the day. you don’t even like coffee, but you like him. and that’s more than enough reason to get you out of bed, tidy yourself a bit, and go sauntering out of your room to ask for a cup of hot liquid you’ll never consume. ( you’re more of a tea or hot chocolate kind of person, but there’s a first time for everything, and maybe having coffee will taste better if drinking it means spending even a fractal of time with him. ) this initiates the occurrence of the next anomaly. “good morning,” you say pleasantly. a yelp. a jolt. a wince. a hiss. a “fuck, fuck, fuck”. a resounding crash. the sound of shattered ceramic. xavier clearly isn’t expecting you to be up or to greet him. you wince at the sound of glass and lean over to see that he’s dropped and broken the mug he was holding: your mug. your favorite one. the one your grandmother made for you with her own two hands. there’s coffee pooling everywhere, all over the floor, and xavier moans dreadfully. “shit!” he exclaims. “you scared me. i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean…i didn’t mean to break it. i’m sorry. i really am.” the mug means the world to you, as your grandmother’s much older now and unable to craft little items for you like this anymore. it’s the only one of its kind. the only one that would ever be. and now it’s in pieces on the kitchen floor, a little sea of java surrounding the sad, jagged portions of loving sentiment. “i’m sorry i scared you.” you say softly, trying hard not to cry. you don’t want to make him feel bad. you don’t want him to feel bad at all. “it’s okay, xavi. it’s okay. i’ll get towels.” once you grab towels and come back to help him clean it up, he’s deep in a spell of unnerved groaning — a long, drawn-out whine that goes on under his breath for a while. “please don’t be upset.” he pleads, frowning. “i’m so, so sorry.” you smile softly, shaking your head. “i’m not upset, xavi. are you hurt at all? from the coffee? i heard you hiss.” “i’m okay. it splashed on me, but it didn’t burn me or anything.” you place the two large towels down to soak up all the liquid on the ground. xavier focuses on picking up each piece of the broken mug. as you watch him through the top of your eyes, you wonder just why he’s using your mug to begin with. “i’m not used to you being awake so early.” he admits, slightly embarrassed of how a simple good morning resulted in this. “but…good morning to you, too.” you just can’t help it. you giggle. peculiar boy. “if you want…you…you can pick one of my mugs to take in its place.” he offers, biting his lip. you nod and say okay for a few reasons: 1. you absolutely want something of his and it’s a microscopic guilty desire you have. 2. he seems like it’ll bother him a lot if he can’t rectify the situation in some way. you saying it’s okay doesn’t appear to suffice. 3. see reasons 1 and 2.

as he’s showing you his plethora of available mugs, you catch yourself smiling. he has all of these mugs of his own, but…he was drinking his morning coffee out of yours. you survey them all and find only one that stands out. it’s a white, ceramic mug with the word ‘create’ etched messily into it. it’s oddly shaped, looking nearly homemade. irregular. odd. it’s the most xavier mug of them all. that’s the one you want. you point to it. “i’ll take that one.” you chirp.

for a brief moment, he hesitates, pouting cutely, but his lips slowly tilt upward. “of course you will. that one’s my favorite. i made it in my high school art class, but…okay. okay. a mug for a mug. you can keep it. drink your coffee out of it well…and frequently…or it might start to feel neglected. it’s an extroverted kind of mug.” if you knew it wouldn’t result in one of the most blatant forms of rejection you’ll ever face, because xavier is nothing if not brutally honest, maybe you would have kissed him right then. it would be hard not to if you knew with unearned confidence that he wouldn’t push you away. but, instead, you quietly take the mug and you’ll use it well just as he asks. and maybe he’ll try to sneak in a hidden smile by just lifting the corner of his lips. and maybe you’ll spot his dimple because of it, the one that likes to hide the same way your feelings do. and maybe the sight of it will make your heart flutter and your breath hitch. and maybe it ( in its own way ) could be just as good as a kiss. a homemade mug for a homemade mug.

you have a feeling you’ll keep it closer than anything else. “want to have coffee before you leave for work?” you ask, even knowing well that you’ll be wasting even more than he has, even knowing how upset he’ll be if he figures you out. but it feels worth it when he nods, offering you that coy smile you silently plead for nowadays. and you both do, in the soft lull of the morning, sit at the table over a cup of coffee. you even steal glances every now and then. when he asks why you haven’t touched your drink, you lie and say you prefer it with creamer, to which he turns his nose up in disgust. “creamer is a forbidden substance in this house.” he informs you. “but…if…if it really is a deal-breaker for your coffee enjoyment…i’ll make sure to get you some. what kind do you like?”

the next time you go grocery shopping for us, honey? why don’t you just ask me to pop the question right now?

you don’t care for coffee. you don’t care for creamer, but you care very, very dearly about the prospect of xavier getting any kind of special thing for you, with you in mind, with the purpose of making an experience better for you. it makes you feel special to him. ( you know plenty of special things he can give you to make the experience better. and it didn’t even cost money. he can use his perfect hands as much as he likes. ) “hazelnut,” you lie with a smile. “that’s my favorite.”

the third anomaly occurs much later in the day when you’re home alone and you’re lounging in the living room, wondering if thursday will get to be a second tuesday with xavier since you’ll both be here. unexpectedly, there’s a knock at the door. your brows furrow. you didn’t order any food. you didn’t expect a delivery. xavier always tells you if anyone’s dropping by. when you walk up to the door and peep out, you see a remarkably handsome man standing on the other side. you open the door carefully, revealing a boy, likely around your age, with soft lilac hair that seems to take on a pearlescent tint in the light. a blend of amethyst and carnelian in his eyes and standing there with a kind smile that seems like it might dissolve anything in sight that just so happens to perceive it.

he even has little dimples on his cheeks as he beams so pleasantly. he, much like xavier, is very pretty. “hi…can i…help you?” you ask timidly, not fully coming outside the crack in the door, only your head and a portion of your torso poking out. ( he might be attractive, but he’s still a stranger. ) he scratches the back of his head. “oh…uh, hi!…my name is rafayel? i just moved into that unit about a week ago.” he explains, jerking a thumb back towards his front door, #1103r, right across from you and xavier’s #1104r.

“oh! i didn’t even know the unit was empty.” you laugh. “welcome to the complex…and the hall. it’s fairly quiet, so i hope you aren’t a partier.” laughing, he shakes his head. “a baker and a painter, not a partier. i spend my spare time making sweet treats. you might smell me baking a lot, though. i…uh…i actually was coming to ask if you had butter? or margarine? i’ve started making cupcakes, but i didn’t get butter at the store, and i didn’t want to leave out…because i already started. so, i figured i could come to introduce myself…and ask a neighborly favor?”

he puts his hands together in a small plea.

wow, the boys in this building really do enjoy wholesome activities.

smiling, you nod. “sure, give me a second. i’ll be right back.” when you come back to the door with an entire package of butter, he smiles wide, making his eyes crinkle. “i hope that’ll be enough.” “more than, i’ll bring back what i don’t use.” he promises. “ah, you’re a lifesaver. thanks!”

“happy to help. welcome to the building, rafayel.” now, the exchange should be complete but he’s still just standing there. “well…if that’s all…” “what was your name? did you already tell me?” he asks suddenly, confused. “sorry, i wanted to say your name, too, because it seems respectful since you said my name, but i was trying to rack my brain for what you said your name was…” “i didn’t.” you clarify, chuckling at his spaciness despite knowing you’ll lie. “it’s…hunter.” “hunter. hm, i like it. it suits you somehow. anyway, thanks, miss hunter the neighbor. rafayel the baker will see you again soon to return his butter hostage and maybe offer a treat forged from his deepest gratitudes.” a lopsided grin and a wink. when he leaves, you close the door and stand there for a moment, recalling the entire exchange. he’s handsome, a bit spacey, but so friendly…so friendly he’s flirty. you’ll never complain about having eye candy for a neighbor, but…you don’t want xavier to get the wrong idea…if rafayel starts talking to you more… you quickly shake the thought away, reminding yourself to return to reality from the depths of your delusions. xavier is not interested in you in that way by any means. he, at most, wants to become friends, which is understandable for a person he’ll be living with for an additional year. that’s fair. you want to be friends, too. ( you just also want him to talk you through his day while he’s fingering you, that’s all. )

the next anomaly occurs at five pm when xavier arrives home much later than he usually does. for him, thirty minutes late is a lot. it throws off his routine. “welcome home.” you say casually as he finally comes waltzing in. you try your best to appear as if you’re as unfazed about his entry. you try not to make it disgustingly obvious that you aren’t just there relaxing anymore; you’re waiting. for him to come home. to welcome him back. this time, though, he doesn’t respond curtly as he ducks back towards his room. you hear the rustling of plastic bags he sets down on the kitchen counter.

he then wanders over to you and lays a heavy palm flat on the crown of your head. “hey,” he breathes. in movies or dramas, this is the moment where your world freezes, just becoming so petrified that even time doesn’t dare to move. you gulp hard, your heart racing even more so than it usually does over him.

what are you supposed to do? “did you…enjoy your day off?” he asks. “did you rest enough?”

“um…” your voice trails, mind still entranced by his hand resting on top of your hand. it’s such a gentle gesture, so tender and timid, like him. such a well-suited affection for his temperament. “i had…a relaxing day. it was nice.” you manage to speak, but you stare ahead, not bold enough to look up at the face he’s making while he touches you. he finally lowers his hand to his side and inside, you scream about it, protest profusely to the removal of his closeness. “what about you? was work okay?” you ask, breathing returning to normal as he heads back to the kitchen to unpack his things.

the first item he takes out is a little bottle of hazelnut creamer, and your heart is so warm you think it’s become nothing but a puddle of adoring liquid. “work was less stressful. we’re close to done with this project. so now there’s not as much silence in the office. everyone is slowly starting to act like real people again. it was driving me insane. when intense projects happen, it disrupts my routine so much. people stop saying good morning. i don’t feel comfortable saying anything more than i already don’t. and i think the secretary hates me because i kept messing up my report and printing it incorrectly. it created unnecessary work for her and it wasted a lot of paper. i made sure to pick some up while i was at the store to replace it, but…” he stops suddenly and frowns. “sorry, i just realized i was rambling again.” you can’t hide your loving smile even if you bother trying. “you’re talking about your day. there’s nothing wrong with that, especially if the person you’re talking to wants to know all the seemingly useless details.” xavier has this habit of just peering at you at times when you respond to his long-windedness with openness to experience. and boy were you dangerously open to experiencing him. “and…do you…?” he asks you slowly, his head tilting to the side. “…want to hear even the unimportant details?” you shrug casually and nod once. you decide on an endearing response with a touch of humor to soften the landing for your heart as it’s doing its somersaults. “i don’t mind hearing about your day in great detail…it’s like listening to an audiobook for free. or a podcast.” “you…” he rolls his eyes, lips quirking. a soft shake of the head. “anyway, what’d you do today? stay on the couch engrossed in your dramas?” “i cleaned up a bit, did some homework, met our new neighbor, and binged on a drama, yes.” his brows bundle together. “we didn’t already have a neighbor?” “that’s what i said! i didn’t know the unit across the hall was empty, but he came by to ask if he could have some butter and introduce himself.” xavier’s face scrunches up, slightly disgusted and confused. “butter? like…to just eat?” “xavi, what?” you ask, bubbling a laugh. “no, dummy. he’s a baker. he started making cupcakes and realized he didn’t have any. he said he’d bring back the excess.” again, a repulsed display of emotion. “i don’t want any food back after it’s left this apartment. there are all kinds of new germs and particles on it now. why would i consume that or allow you to? what kind of person do you take me for? god only knows what he does in that unit. and if he double dips? if he sticks his fingers in his mouth and touches the container without washing his hands? ew. there’s no way for us to even verify. the number of available and unfavorable possibilities is disgusting in itself. and bakers seem like the…‘lick their fingers clean’ type, so…he can keep the butter. i’ll get us more.” you purse your lips together, clasping them shut to keep your amused smile from showing how endearing you find him to be and also to keep from laughing at the severity of his seriousness, at how comical all his particularities are but adorable in the same breath. peculiar as ever. “okay, if he tries to return it, i’ll reject him.”

“that would be best.” a familiar, curt nod. “i’m making dinner in a little while…do you…want to help me? or will it throw your relaxation routine off?” you snort. “xavi, i don’t have a relaxation routine. the relaxation is disrupting the routine in a good way. but yes…what are we making?” and there it is again, that little smile that makes you want to clutch at your chest. having a second tuesday is another wonderful disruption to the routine.

the following tuesday, you’re giddy as you head home from class. you aren’t sure what moment does it for you, but you’ve settled comfortably into the fact that you like xavier, that given the opportunity, you’ll peel back every single layer of his existence to taste and lick and know every part of him. it doesn’t bother you to be just friends and roommates with him, though. you guys live together. even if something comes of it, if it goes south, it’ll really destroy the living dynamic you guys have cultivated, which is quite comfortable. gentle. tender. safe. besides, he reserves special kinds of platonic affections for you that suffice. as you approach the building, you see your neighbor, rafayel, struggling to balance a tall stack of white, flat boxes while he tries to open the door to the building. you jog up and hold it open for him. “ah, thank you, miss hunter the neighbor.” he says graciously. “saving me yet again.” rafayel is nice enough but he seems to be quirky in his own way. you’re starting to wonder if it’s a prerequisite for being accepted for housing in this place. as it stands, though, tensions are high between your household and his. when he returned the butter, rafayel was immensely offended by xavier’s suggestion that he ‘tainted the butter with his baker’s breath’ and the stern demand that he take it back, to which xavier’s lip curled in disgust as he emphasized that he especially didn’t want it then. it ended with rafayel leaving the butter by the door and sitting it on the ground, both oddballs unwilling to claim the absurdity. you ended up picking it up and throwing it away. while it was a comical event all around, seeing the two of them standing in the doorway trading glares over the sanitation of butter was amongst the strangest things you’ve witnessed. “do you need help, rafayel?” you ask with a laugh. “you look like you’re one, fragile step away from it all crumbling down.” he sighs. “if you don’t mind and it won’t taint your precious hands to touch my baker’s boxes, then yes, you may help me.” “for the record, i have absolutely no stock or stance in the butter sanitation conundrum. i am but an innocent bystander. so, no, your baker’s boxes aren’t at risk of tainting my hands.”

you roll your eyes at him. “you’re really dramatic, you know.” “criticizing me is not helpful.” he notes. “and i’m not certain, but i thought you asked to help.” “fine,” you grumble, grabbing a stack of the boxes out of his hands. “what’s all this for anyway?” he smiles triumphantly. “i got my first big gig as a freelance baker. i’m making fifty fishie cupcakes for a five-year-old’s birthday party tomorrow.” a playful smile. “wow, that’s really cool. congrats on that one. are you excited?” “excited…is certainly a word. maybe not one i’d use to describe this, but a word nonetheless. if you can’t tell by the thick layer of perspiration and sweat gathering on my forehead, everything is great and not stressful at all.” you pout, oddly concerned for his results. “are you going to be able to pull it off?” “well, the thing is that…no?” he laughs and so do you. “my friend thomas was supposed to be my helper so i could pull it off, but apparently chasing skirts is more important than making and icing cupcakes for a child’s birthday party. i wouldn’t know since i respect the brotherly code of conduct and would never, but it’s fine. i hope he gets laid.” you nod. “me too…but i hope he has a hard time performing. he shouldn’t have bailed on you. this seems…important to you.”

“ah, miss hunter the neighbor is quite observant, rafayel notes.” he narrates himself in the third person. “it is pretty important to me. but…just to me.” that upset you deeply. you know what it’s like to have your dream not be taken seriously. all this time, you’ve been in school to join the hunter’s association of all things. no one really sees the benefit or believes in what you want to do. you have a heart condition, after all. you’re basically out here trying to prove your entire family wrong, that you’re capable of developing a strong, steady life without needing endless aid.

you hate the idea that rafayel is clearly very passionate about baking, about doing this kind of custom work, but his friends aren’t supporting him, and now he’s scrambling. “do you have to be a talented baker to be a baker’s assistant?” you ask, biting your lip. the flame in rafayel’s eyes twinkle. “not at all! you just need two hands and a decent enough ability to follow a series of simple directions.” nodding resolutely, you smile. “then consider me self-appointed as the baker’s elf. let’s go get these cupcakes made, rafayel the baker neighbor.” to this, he beams. “miss hunter the neighbor is starting to seem a bit like a friendly neighborhood fishie herself.”

making cupcakes from scratch is no fucking joke. there’s so many steps. it really is a series of simple directions, but if those simple directions are off even by a small margin, it ruins the batch and you have to start again. you didn’t realize how time-consuming it would be. in fact, you didn’t really keep up with the time at all, but when you catch a glimpse of it on his television, it’s already eight ‘o clock, and your eyes widen. “shit! i need to go to my apartment.” you tell him urgently. “are you okay from here or should i come back?” rafayel shakes his head, grinning. “you’ve done so much. i just need to finish working on these last fifteen. i got it. thank you so much. you didn’t have to help but you did. it means a lot.” “no problem, but next time, i expect to take home one of my own.” he laughs. “next time?” “rafayel the baker neighbor seems to need help a lot.” you say with a shrug before ducking out quickly. “see you later!” even though you’re only across the hall, you feel like you’re going to walk in and be in an insane amount of trouble. you haven’t even bothered looking at your phone.

when you walk in, xavier is sitting on the couch, but his head snaps up to you immediately. “you’re okay!” he says, relief evident in his voice as he rises to his feet. “where have you been? i hadn’t heard from you in hours and i got really worried about you.” he walks over to you but keeps a small distance between your bodies, looking you over for any sign of harm. your entire face heats up. you feel yourself shrinking before him as you take a breath. “sorry,” you say, looking down at your feet. “i was across the hall. i was helping rafayel wi—“ he cuts you off, brows knitting together, lips in a frustrated pout. “the unsanitary baker? why?” “if you would let me finish…” you snap, giving him a hard look. “his friend bailed on helping him and he got his first big order as a freelance baker. i was home so i helped. i was really busy so i wasn’t keeping track of time well. you wouldn’t believe how hard it is it make cupcakes from scratch.” an exasperated sigh leaves your lips just recounting the last few hours mentally. he’s not looking at you anymore when he speaks next. “you baked cupcakes with him?” he asked. “like…you baked them…together?” you feel confused but nod. “…yes? that’s what ‘helping’ would entail in this situation. he was stressed and i felt bad because i know what it’s like for no one to truly believe in you.”

“fine,” he spits, lips set in a hard line. “i hope it got done. dinner’s on the stove.” he walks past you toward the hallway then, his back turned. “and please wash your hands before you touch anything.” then…he just walks straight to his room without another word, leaving you feeling perplexed by his response. his bedroom door closes a little harder than usual and you fear you may have made a grave mistake by hanging out with rafayel, especially when it’s abundantly clear upon their first interaction they’re unlikely to get along.

maybe he feels like bailing on cooking to hang out with rafayel and not even letting him know is a jerk move and you agree.

since that event, the rest of the week is very awkward. even though you don’t see each other often on weekdays already, you have this inkling that xavier’s avoiding you at all costs. he even stops making his coffee. he just slips out into the early morning. you wake up close to ten am, very late, for every day it occurs. an obnoxious disruption in your routine, and he doesn’t make dinner at all. you go to bed pouting and hungry. but another anomaly occurs when tuesday rolls around again: you wake to find that your class has been canceled. ever the diligent student, you check your emails daily. when you finally get around to grabbing your phone in the morning, it’s the first thing you do. to your surprise, the one class you have is canceled due to the professor being ill. you take great pleasure in this because the regular routine in the home is now also back in motion.

you wake to the heavenly scent of colombian swimming in the air. you wander out into the living room. xavier leans back against the marble counter, sipping quietly from a dark-colored mug. “good morning,” you announce quietly, making sure not to frighten him. his eyes dart to your presence, and you just pause where you are, unsure if proceeding any closer is safe. “morning,” a short and dull response. “you’re up early.” you shake your head, playing with your hands nervously. “i’m always up this early. the smell of your coffee wakes me up every morning. i just usually stay in my room and get ready.” “oh,” his voice is small. after a long pause, he asks, “is it bothersome?” to answer, you smile lazily and offer another small head shake. “not at all. it’s actually my favorite alarm. very quiet and very pleasant. i’ve been waking up late the last week nearly. my routine…was thrown off.”

with all the gall in the world, he scoffs. “since when do you care about keeping a routine?” “what?” you ask softly, voice slightly wounded and face fluttering into confusion. “what do you mean?” “you skipped out on our routine last week and that didn’t seem to matter to you at all.” he states simply. your guilty eyes look at your nervously shuffling feet. “so, what is it? why did you hang out with him and bake with him?” you’re not sure if it’s the irritated tone he’s now choosing to take with you or the underlying insinuation that you, a grown adult, owe him a reasonable explanation for why you exert autonomy and choose to help others. as if you did something morally reprehensible by helping rafayel. you’re not even certain xavier is actually, fully angry that you bailed so much as he’s angry about who you were with and what you were doing instead, which is still unfathomable why it’s his business. yes, you should have let him know and you can own that because you know he probably waited a while for you to show up and you never did, but you’re not going to stand here and let him reprimand you for hanging out at your neighbor’s unit just because he’s decided he doesn’t like him for quite literally no real reason at all. “um, are you my father?” you ask, your face scrunching up in frustration. “he’s our new neighbor, xavier. he needed help. i’m just being kind, and i like hanging out with him. he’s funny an—” he cuts you off, setting down his mug. “you like hanging out with him?” “yes…?” it’s silent between the two of you then, his eyes going blank and glossy. “why? what’s so special about his place? why would you prefer spending tuesday there?” you’re genuinely appalled by his response. you expect he may not like the idea of you hanging out with someone he dislikes, but he’s not your parent or your partner, and he’s only become a friend recently. the way you feel like you’re being forced to justify your very simple, very innocent actions of helping rafayel is absolutely unacceptable because no matter how many times you say it, telling xavier you did it because he needed help and it was important for him to have it isn’t a sufficient explanation for him. but it’s the truth and it not being enough for him is not necessarily your burden to bear.

“xavier, i don’t owe you an explanation as to why i had a good time hanging out with him and helping him make cupcakes so his first, real order can lead to more. i don’t have to explain anything i choose to do with anyone. i don’t owe you or your ego elaboration.” “well…” his voice trails and he’s quiet for a minute as his skin slowly reddens and he nervously bites his lower lip. when he looks at you again and speaks, his voice is incredibly soft, unbearably wounded, and pained. “i want an explanation anyway. because i thought you liked spending your tuesday nights with me, but you went over there instead of staying to see me and make dinner together. and you didn’t even tell me. just left me waiting on you. what’s that about?” the sheer shock and confusion of his confession must be evident on your face. you feel your mouth part as if you want to speak but you don’t. your brows knit together, trying to make sense of his stance so you can properly answer his question.

your heart is racing wildly because it seems xavier may have developed feelings of his own…toward you. “wait…wait…” your voice trails, you’re still looking up, eyes blinking rapidly and narrowing, not in a sinister way but dubious.

as it stands, your current theory that he might have feelings for you, is unfounded and is permeated by perplexity.

“is…is that why you’re upset?” you ask him. “because i ended up helping him and missing one tuesday with you?” he sighs and nods, frustration exuded in his body language as if you stated the utter obvious simply to upset him. “you told me you liked our little tradition to cook together, but then picked another guy to make food with the very next week? an unsanitary one at that? and…and…you know what? i want to do that with you. making dinner isn’t fun on my own. not on tuesdays. not if you’re not here with me, and especially not if you’re not here because you’re over there and want to be there more than you want to be here. with me.” your question comes out suddenly, your tone layered in urgency. “xavier…do you like me?” he just stares, mouth slightly agape, looking as if you’ve asked a stupid question yet again. a soundless, ‘you’re not serious, right?’

his next comment confirms your intuition and also attests to your ability to read his expressions clearly now. “are you really asking me that? are you oblivious? after all this time? as if it wasn’t completely obvious that i do.” you snort. “xavier, if you liked me all this time, it was absolutely, undeniably, irrevocably not obvious.” “i gave you a hand towel that matches mine and placed them next to each other.” he details with a flat voice and a roll of his eyes. you look at him, growing progressively more flabbergasted by his position in the ongoing argument. he lives in a delusional mental world where he thinks his feelings, in all their silent conquest, are thoroughly known and understood. even though you’ve never spoken to him about anything of the sort.

“xavier…you do realize you criticized me for the number of paper towels i used, right? i thought you were just…solving the problem you created.” he has the audacity to groan. “i’ve made dinner for you to eat when you come home since the first time you left me a sticky note apologizing for eating my extras.” “yes, because you always make excess. that’s what you said!” you huff, arms folding over your chest. he can’t seriously believe he has a little avalanche of decent examples of his ‘liking you’ being obvious. there’s just no way. he would have to be completely disregarding every other aspect of objective reality except his own thoughts and perception in order to come to the conclusion that placing a hand towel on a bar or letting you have the extra food he makes regardless are his attempts to court you. “i got upset when you filled in for a coworker on a tuesday instead of coming home and i was only distressed because you weren’t here to tell me welcome home. i told you i didn’t feel welcomed without it!” now his voice is raising, aghast and disbelieving. you shrug, just staring at him with flat affect and dawning freshly picked neutrality. “i thought you were joking and finally developing a sense of humor. i was proud of you.” a squeak. he’s watching all his ridiculous reasonings be debunked and he just continues trailing down the list of them, much to your dismay.

if he’d shut up for a moment, you can get off the topic of what would have made it obvious and move on to something way more important, much more impactful. is he going to kiss you soon or what? so peculiar. he’d rather argue you down than take his shot with you and watch himself hit a bullseye. “i gave you my special mug to keep for your own because you said you wanted it.” another eye roll. “you broke my own special mug and told me to pick the one i wanted! i thought it was an eye for an eye. a mug for a mug!” he gestures towards the refrigerator. “i brought creamer, a banned substance, into this apartment for you.” “it’s creamer, xavier, not a confession. please be serious.” this time, his voice is small and sheepish. “i started giving you…head pats.” you can’t refute the intimacy of that one. you know it. he knows it. the smug smirk on his face not only knows it but is gloating about it. “fine, you got me there, but that still isn’t enough to infer romantic interest.” “i blatantly asked you to make it a permanent date with me to make dinner together on tuesdays. how much more obvious do i need to be?”

you furiously shake your head, protesting his claim. “no, no! you formally requested assistance with dinner on tuesdays. the word date was not aforementioned. you made it seem mandatory . in fact, you said it was only fair.” now, he’s blushing furiously, the tips of his ears going red. “it’s not mandatory, per se. it’s just the principle. and even still, you say that as a counter, yet you went over to his place instead of coming home to be with me…doing the cooking we agreed on and mutually enjoyed.” you scoff. “but it’s not mandatory to cook?” “well cooking isn’t mandatory, but it is mandatory that you genuinely like me back if we’re going to be doing domestic things like making meals to eat together. consistently. and openly. so when you do it with me for weeks and tell me entirely unprovoked that you like doing it with me, it gives the impression you want to be domestic with me. i only spend time at home, so i take that very seriously. i was starting to feel played with.” you won’t lie. all of his nonsense is just that: nonsense. but the idea that you left him feeling like you were giving mixed signals or like you were stringing him along for the fun of it deeply wounds you inside, because you also like him a hell of a lot. you would never go off and be intentionally confusing. “i wish you had said it clearly. we would have been on the same page a long time ago probably. i wouldn’t be spending a single tuesday there if i knew why you wanted me here.” xavier grumbles, “i genuinely don’t understand how you didn’t notice.”

“i genuinely don’t understand how you could possibly think i would?” you counter, the statement falling from your lips like a question that requires clarification. he steps closer to you, and for the first time, you see something new in his eyes: determination, passion, need, and desire. your breath catches in your throat when one hand goes around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the other cupping your cheek. your heart. that’s all you can hear is your heart thumping in your chest as if it might combust. “how is this for being crystal clear? i like making dinner for you and with you. i like that our hand towels are matching and next to each other. i like that the smell of my coffee wakes you up in the morning…i want to be the one that wakes you up in the mornings. so…with that being said, it’s tuesday and i want to make dinner with you tonight. if you want to make dinner with me, understand that you’re consenting to complete romantic affiliation.” “understood,” it comes out with no hesitation, your eyes glancing between baby blues and pretty, tinted lips begging and beckoning. “so, you’ll make dinner with me and consent to romantic affiliation?” he confirms, a lopsided grin forming. his choice of words begs a chuckle from you. you nod. “xavi, are you seriously asking me that? are you oblivious?” “can i kiss you now? i’ve been dying to.” you pout, feigning a great deal of disappointment and concern. “if you don’t know the answer, then maybe i really should go back across the hall…” his grip on your waist tightens, a soft thumb caressing your cheek and there’s that subtle smile you adore. “we’re definitely kissing because you have to be quiet. like right now.”

you laugh. “wow. that one was actually funny.” “what?” he asks, thrown by your response. “oh, nothing,” you sing. “c’mere,” smiling at your urge to draw him in, he leans down then, no longer willing to waste time being idle with you or staring into each other until you can’t take it. when his lips touch yours, the only thing you can think about is how soft they are, how smooth, silk against velvet. all you can think about is how gently he keeps you against his torso, how shyly his lips move with yours like he needs to test you out and know how you feel, like his lips have more to offer, but much like his conversational skill, you’ll have to coax him out of his timidity. when you both pull apart, you reach your hand up to touch his, tugging very gently on his fingers. he obliges your silent request for his hand, watching you with an enamored gaze, moving his palm from your face and allowing you to tangle your fingers together. you officially love his hands very much. you felt it on your cheek and now you feel it wrapped around every space between your fingers. the most peculiar thing of all about xavier seems to be just how correct your theory is: his hands are like satin, and they take immaculate care of anything they’re tasked with touching.

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months ago

Text

no one but me

for @subeddieweek day 6 prompt 'possessive'

rated e, 18+, minors dni | 2013 words | cw: possessive behavior, jealousy | tags: friends with benefits, friends to lovers, semi-public sex, coming in pants, sub eddie, dom steve, brief mention of subspace, idiots in love, love confessions

also on ao3

🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸

Eddie’s laughing at the bar, head thrown back in something that can only be described as a cackle. It’s loud enough to be heard over the crowd, over the music that’s making Steve’s head pound. His eyes are closed, his hair is falling from the half-assed bun he put it in before they got here, and he’s having the time of his fucking life.

Steve sees red.

It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. He’s immediately embarrassed about the way he wants to grab Eddie by the scruff of his neck like he’s a poorly trained dog and lead him outside to make him sit for a treat. Steve winces at the feeling of ownership he has over someone who is very much not his.

Eddie’s face is a little red, but it’s because it’s hot as hell in here, not because of the obvious flirting the bartender is doing. No one makes Eddie blush except for Steve. That’s just a fact and has nothing to do with whatever jealousy is brewing in Steve’s chest.

He watches as Eddie takes the drink from the bar and leaves some cash in its place. He’s still smirking, like whatever the bartender said to him is still fresh in his mind.

Steve just has to stay cool. Act normal. Don’t make it obvious that he’s bothered that someone else made Eddie light up like that.

“You won’t believe what-”

“Bathroom. Now.”

Steve is walking away before he can hear whatever Eddie was going to say to him.

He knows Eddie will follow. Eddie always does what he asks, what he demands.

Sure enough, when the door of the bathroom closes behind him, Eddie’s right there, breathless and waiting. They shouldn’t do this here. Eddie gets so light, so far gone, it wouldn’t be fair to make him that vulnerable in a bar’s bathroom.

He’s just gonna make sure Eddie remembers he’s here with him tonight. They may be here as part of a group, but Steve’s the one who asked Eddie along, he’s the one who picked him up at his apartment. He’s the one who bought him his first drink tonight.

The bathroom is surprisingly empty, but it’s still early. No one’s had enough drinks to need to go, and no one’s had enough time to talk to anyone enough to convince them a bathroom hookup is what they need. Steve still reaches behind Eddie to lock the door.

They won’t have long, but he plans on getting his point across.

He keeps a few inches of distance between them, stares at the way Eddie is curling in on himself. A small part of him is glad he clearly feels guilty, but he doesn’t actually want him to be upset. He didn’t technically do anything wrong. He didn’t break any of their rules.

“Let me know if you’d rather have the bartender in here,” Steve says through clenched teeth. He has to get a hold of himself. “I’m sure he’d be willing.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he seems to realize exactly why Steve reacted the way he did. And then he grins.

“I see,” Eddie steps in closer so his breath brushes across Steve’s lips when he huffs out a laugh. “You’re jealous.”

Steve could deny it, and he should. Jealousy is for people in relationships.

He knows what he wants to get from this, though. Trying to deny would just make Eddie leave.

His hand is around Eddie’s throat, pushing him back against the door. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t even do anything but rest his palm there. It’s enough.

“I didn’t think I had to worry about you being a slut tonight,” Steve says with a smirk. Eddie shivers against the door. “We were supposed to have fun with our friends and then go back to mine, weren’t we?”

Eddie nods. He swallows and Steve groans at the feeling.

“So what made you decide to flirt with the bartender?” He pushes his leg between Eddie’s, shoves his thigh up so it sits in what has to be an uncomfortable position against Eddie’s dick.

“I wasn’t-”

“Don’t lie.” Steve pushes his leg up further, almost taking Eddie’s feet from under him. “I know what you look like when you’re flirting.”

That’s how they got into this, after all. Eddie flirted with him during a movie night, played and lost a game of chicken he didn’t think Steve would actually play with him.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“But you did,” Steve drops his hand from his throat to cover his crotch. “Do you think he would know how to take care of you?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, sir.”

Steve has to hold back his own shiver at Eddie’s response. He takes him in fully, his wide eyes, red cheeks, goosebumps on his arms.

“I could show him if you’d prefer his hands on you,” Steve offers. It’s an empty offer. There’s no way in hell, no amount of money or begging that would get him to give anyone else the secrets to making Eddie look and sound and act like this. “Maybe he’d be better at it.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “No one better than you.”

“No?” Steve smiles. He can’t ignore how good it feels to know no one does this for Eddie except him. “That’s because I know you, baby. I know exactly how to touch you. I know what you need, when you need it.”

“Mhm,” Eddie ruts forward. Steve allows it this time. Sometimes he gives more than he should. “You got me.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed now. Steve looks at him. He’s really beautiful like this. He’s beautiful all the time.

“I got you,” he says quietly, softer than he means to.

Eddie’s eyes blink open as he smiles. He’s checked out a bit, not completely gone, but definitely floating away.

“Wanna be yours.”

Steve swallows. Sometimes Eddie says things when he’s like this that make Steve want more. He does want more, all the time. But that’s now what this is, what they are. Eddie made it clear at the beginning he doesn’t do relationships, just wants someone he can trust to take care of him like this when he needs it. Steve can’t take advantage of that.

“You can be mine, baby,” Steve plays along. “You gonna be good now? Make it up to me?”

Eddie’s dick is straining against his jeans and Steve’s hand curls around the bulge as he talks. He has no intention of sticking around this bar after he gets Eddie off. He’s gonna make him come in his pants and then take him home so he can wash him, kiss him, tell him he’s good.

“Please. I’m good,” Eddie says, and it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince Steve.

Steve moves both hands to his hips, holds him steady. He watches as Eddie tries to buck up, get any kind of friction he can. He only has a little from Steve’s leg in this position, definitely not enough to get off.

Steve nips at his jaw, licks a stripe down his neck. Eddie’s whimpering, trying his best to stay still. Steve didn’t even have to ask him to, he just knows he needs to.

“Good boy.”

Eddie throws his head back, closes his eyes again. Steve laughs as he sucks a bruise into his neck, something visible.

A claim that he doesn’t deserve to have, but Eddie always lets him take.

By the time he pulls away, Eddie’s begging for more. He’s not quiet and if anyone is on the other side of this door, they’ll hear him.

“Please, touch me, fuck me, need you.”

He’s not fucking him here. Steve can get mean sometimes, and they’ve been messy and done some gross shit, but he’s not fucking Eddie in a rush against a public bathroom door. He’s so close already, just from the words and the rough touches, he wouldn’t even last long enough to open him up on his fingers.

He didn’t bring lube or a condom anyways.

“I know you’re desperate for my cock, baby, but I can’t fuck you here,” Steve whispers against his ear, biting at his lobe. “You’re too loud. No one gets to hear how I make you feel except me, right?”

Eddie’s nodding, but he doesn’t think it’s because he’s actually listening. Steve’s hand rubs against his clothed dick, squeezes the bulge in his pants. He smirks to himself when he feels a small wet spot on his jeans.

“C’mon, you’re already wet for me. Why don’t you come so I can take you home and clean you up?” Steve pulls away, looks down at Eddie. Most of his weight is against the door and Steve’s leg now, and he keeps trying to move his hips against Steve’s hand faster.

“Can I?”

He’s so sweet like this. Steve’s so lucky.

“You’re so good. You can come.”

Eddie shakes through it, biting his lip until it’s bleeding so he doesn’t get any louder than he already is. Steve doesn’t stop rubbing against him, even when he can feel the wet spot growing, feels Eddie’s breathing hitch more at the oversensitivity. His hair is a mess now, front pieces sticking to his sweaty forehead.

He’s so beautiful, Steve feels like crying.

Instead, he kisses his mouth, hard. He puts everything he has into it, not letting his hand slow for a second. He knows what Eddie can handle.

Eddie kisses him back, moan nearly turning into a scream as Steve applies more pressure to his spent dick. The zipper has to be painful, rubbing wrong against his wet boxers. But Eddie doesn’t pull away, doesn’t try to push Steve off of him. He takes it, like he always does.

“God, I love you,” Steve groans against his lips.

It takes a moment for him to realize Eddie stops kissing him back.

When he does, he pulls away, steps back. There’s space where there shouldn’t be, but he’s realizing what he said, and he doesn’t think Eddie will want him near him now.

Eddie takes a few deep breaths, trying to focus, center himself back on the earth he’d barely been on only a minute ago. He wipes the hair from his face, brushes it back so it’s at least behind his shoulders now.

“Is that why you were so jealous?” Eddie’s voice is wrecked, but he’s focused. “Because you love me?”

Steve can’t hide now. It’s out there.

He’s ruined this. He might as well be honest.

“Eddie, I couldn’t do this with anyone I didn’t love,” he admits. “I know it’s not what you need.”

Eddie shakes his head. Steve’s heart breaks a little.

“Why do you think I don’t need it?”

The question isn’t what he’s expecting. He’s not sure how to answer.

“You didn’t know I’m yours?” Eddie continues when Steve can’t find words.

“I…thought you didn’t do serious stuff,” Steve finally says.

“I don’t. Not usually. But you’re an all or nothing guy, Steve. It’s hard not to want everything with you.”

“You’re really mine?”

Eddie kisses his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his lips. “Yeah. Only yours.”

“So the bartender…”

Eddie laughs, the same bright, loud, chaotic laugh that he’d had earlier. Steve can’t help but smile at the way he glows.

“Was telling me that he saw Robin sneaking into the bathroom with the same woman the last three times she came and the woman is the owner of the bar. Apparently she’s older and he thinks she’s taking Robin for a spin as part of a mid-life crisis. I just thought it was funny.”

Steve laughs. He’s so ridiculous.

“But the jealousy thing was hot. Maybe I should go dance with someone and see what I get out of it,” Eddie continues, wiggling his brows suggestively.

Steve growls, tugs him closer. “Not happening.”

Eddie flushes bright red. “Okay. Take me home, then, big boy. I think you mentioned a shower?”

“Gonna make you more of a mess before that, baby.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson

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passmethatcokezero · 4 months ago

Text

hot and bothered... (18+ // woozi!friends with benefits au) pt. 2

- jihoon x fem!reader - 4.4k words - warnings: smut. minors dni! bff!woozi is hot and bothered at work so bff!you came to the rescue, here comes the hoo-haa!, penetration, mention of pills (ALWAYS use protection!), overstimulation, loud af on bed!jihoon (we love a moaning and whimpering man) goshwhy is needy Jihoon so hot, friends-to-lovers (almost), some fluff here and there. enjoy! - tagging: @cherrylovescheol @syluslittlecrows

[ part one ]

The clothes that once added a sense of thrill to your heated session were now flying across the room. No more game-changers or whatnot, there is a mutual craving to be satisfied and you both wanted it now.

Albeit having your patience tested by the journey home, the kiss you two shared has never been this innocent and slow (not like you two have had so many.) This time felt like something in the air had just shifted, and you two were savoring the newfound connection. His weight on top of yours, lightly, careful not to crush you. Slightly suffocating as your mouth is being occupied but still bearable, it even makes you feel safe and comfortable. Your hands softly treading through his hair until you found a spot to tug onto as he deepens the kiss, dipping his now bare hips to the bare yours.

The hint of contact of his hardened cock to your dripping pussy had you arching your back, almost pulling his hair as you unintentionally broke the kiss. He smirked, trying to hide the hiss he just made and how the contact almost had him exploding as well. You were too wet for his sanity, and he knows it’s because of him, and now only for him.

“So… how would you like to be fucked tonight, princess?”

You choked, almost wanting to slap him for making you laugh, or maybe you weren’t used to him actually calling you princess in ways other than snarky, when he only called you that to mock you for your bratty tendencies.

“I’d like to make it quits. You made me feel like royalty earlier.” He kisses your neck down to your chest.

“Actually, I don’t mind the tempo right now.” You had your eyes close, trying to feel the trail of kisses his supple lips leave onto your shivering skin. “Just don’t tease too much or—”

“Or what?” he smirks once again, this time being a full-time menace, rubbing his dripping tip against your wet folds.

“Fuck you,” you glared at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed from annoyance mixed with lust. “Fuck you, Jihoon.”

“My pleasure, princess.”

Jihoon cannot stop thinking, does edging turn you on? Or you just wanted to take your time? He knows he isn't your first. You had told him about the guy you met in college, a total bastard who left some cash the next morning and a rather sweet note of thanks as if it could console your shattered ego. Or that selfish one who only fucked you for quick satisfaction. And this woman who made you feel so good you almost had a thing for scissors until you realized it was just a spur of the libido confusing your sexuality.

But Jihoon, he never told you he actually never had sex. The workaholic never had a relationship, but somehow you had always thought he must have been getting laid because how on earth could he subtly refer to making love on some of his lyrics if has not had one? The only thing you knew about his sex life was how he actually had his own moments most of the time, just like how he confessed in the studio earlier. Oh and that one time you gifted him a fleshlight as a payback for gifting you a vibrator on your eighteenth birthday because you imposed on him and your group of friends that you will only be accepting useful things for your birthday from then on (that was the first time he called you princess, by the way).

His hand made its way to your abdomen down to your mound, even though his dick was itching to just finish the night off. But like what he said, it’s his pleasure to give you a royalty treatment tonight.

His finger did not need much time to tease your opening, and slips right into your hole with ease. “Jihoon-ah…” you whimpered his name, as his mouth met yours after telling you how tight you were.

His slender finger creating friction with your hole was enough to send you into a moaning mess while his mouth conquers your chest, giving both nipples attention as equals as he can.

“So wet, for me.” Indeed, he was right. You must like edging and keeping your release until you cannot anymore. What a naughty princess, he thinks. Another finger joins in, knowing one cannot stretch you out to his size.

Jihoon’s is thick, there’s no denying you had your fair share of curiosity about it since you have seen a hint of it when he wears his favorite sweatpants. But of course, you wanted to remain wholesome so you just shrug away some unthinkable thoughts that once crossed your mind, at least that was before the first kiss you two shared. Ever since then, there had been a few times you allowed yourself to think about him when you were horny because, how would it feel, having that kind of feisty relationship with someone you hold close?

“Aren’t you a little too tight?” Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead and you were unsure if he was just exerting a lot of effort fingering you, or maybe holding himself from jumping into you. He retracts his hand and kisses you again, before slipping his fingers coated in your juice straight into his mouth. He moaned into a lip bite. How come you tasted so sweet, just like how he must have imagined?

He was really down bad and aching for you he did not have any idea he just said that out loud.

“You’ve thought of me?”

“What? Did I…?”

You chuckled at how his eyes went wide, “Yes, you just said that out loud.”

“God I’m fucked…” He mumbled under his breath.

“You can have more,” you told him, widening your legs which signalled him to get in between and he did not waste time thinking if you really just said that, just like how he did not catch himself saying his thoughts out loud.

His mouth was warm, making you feel things and even questioning yourself if you’re doing something so sinful right now, having someone not your boyfriend eating you out while you were arching your back and moaning his name out loud for your neighbors to hear. You can’t help it, his tongue was so good flicking your clit and playing with your hole while sending vibrations through his moans, all the while staring at you with hooded eyes like was trying to engrave that image of you writhing under his spell in his mind to become a memory he would like to go back to anytime he wanted to. Oh, you’re just so glad he is just married to his work and nobody else.

There were tears in your eyes already, trying to hold back the impending release. He was just so naturally talented at eating you out that you did not realize you were humping his mouth wanting for more. Jihoon, who has been really attentive throughout the night, tried to increase intensity when he heard your moans pitching higher, turned airy as if you were losing your voice to the nirvana you surrendered yourself into.

“Jihoon, I’m close… fuck…” his fingers once again made contact with your hole, fucking your spot as his tongue focused its pressure on your clit. The stimulation was too much taht you began seeing white at the back of your eyes, and not long enough you were clenching around his fingers.

“Go on, come for me,” amid the clouding of your hearing, you heard Jihoon’s voice sounded hoarse, which made you feel even hotter causing you to squirm and finally release your cum.

He was quick to slurp you clean of your release, humming at every sip as if it was his favorite drink. Not even coke zero can make him moan the way your taste quenches his thirst for you.

He then wipes his mouth with his arm, “I can have that all day,” he hisses and proceeds to make your mouth his again, tasting yourself in the process. It was wild, you thought, you’ve never really tasted your own even though you had been curious before. And now you just had to, straight from your friend’s delectable tongue.

The kiss once again turns somewhat slow, as you calm yourself from your high while he preserves his energy for perhaps another round if you’re not too tired enough. Anyway, his cock is still hard. It's like a never-ending cycle now because you wanted him to come, a testament to the kind of relationship you have—a very generous one.

“I like how you kiss me…” you blurted all of a sudden. “They feel like… confessions I have never gotten.”

His eyes meet yours, a gaze like a thousand stars have been sucked inside it. It was one you’ve rarely seen him with, one which only comes out when he talks about how proud he is of the current song he is working with, or that one time you two had hours of debate over the best animes you have ever watched.

“Never gotten? Or never taken?” he wanted to ask, rhetorically that is, but his lips never moved, nor his voice made even a minute of a sound. He’d rather kiss you again, and tell you more of the words that had stayed hidden behind the walls of his mouth. He’d rather have his tongue tied for now, if it means with yours and let his actions speak. Even if you won’t still get it.

He liked the way you kissed him too, if only he could tell. He liked how your mouth synchronizes with his, and moves in perfect harmony. He liked how you get sloppy sometimes when you are trying to catch your breath, or how you adjust when it is him who gets messy because his mind just can’t control his speed. Or how you moan inside his mouth, warm breath enveloping his wet cavern that sends electricity throughout his body. He liked the way his tongue fights for dominance with yours, but even more so when they’re just simply dancing to the rhythm of his heartbeats.

Lost in thoughts, he did not realize you had him toppled over until he felt your hand over his chest, and your damp folds grazing against his girth. “Ah fuck…” both of you chorused, making him chuckle.

“If you want it so bad…”

“Yeah, acting as if you weren’t the one who almost broke my door coming here.” you rebutted, rolling your eyes.

“It got stuck!”

“It’s extra protection!”

“Oh shit, now that you said it” he suddenly perks up, “I almost forgot,” he says squandering about to get to his pants, flailing to the air a foil packet he had been keeping in his wallet.

“Are you sure that thing is not expired?”

He scoffs as he makes his way back to bed, “actually, maybe.” he checks the packet and to his horror, it has been way past due. “Yeah yeah, way to slap me in the face. Thanks, universe.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to laugh, oh my gosh.” you were almost brought to tears by the comedic timing of it all. He really had not gotten laid. Poor boy, everyone knows he very much deserved it considering he had been busy his entire life.

“I have pills, don’t worry.” his face lights up, but it is still evident how annoyed he was at the situation.

“I’m sorry, I… I won't forget next time…” and then his own words struck him. “Shit, I mean—”

You chuckled at the flushing of his face. He looked so embarrassed, you did not have the heart to tease him anymore assuming there would be more sexy encounters after today. Besides, you’ve been craving for some action now.

“You know I can always keep you company—that is until I get myself a boyfriend,” you pulled him close, as you settled underneath him, head nested in between his two arms that support his weight.

His eyes once again turned soft, as one hand began tracing your cheek, trailing to the back of your ear. “I think… I know someone,” nose scrunching while smiling ear to ear, his eyes turned crescent at his own words, cringing at what sounded like a hard-sell.

“Oooh, I’d like to meet him,” your smirk drowns in the kiss that once again began, while his body shifts so that his tip aligns with your entrance. Your knees instinctively wrap around his waist.

“I’m going in, “ he says in courtesy when he had his head right in your opening, making both of you gasp for air. You didn’t even ask for it but nonetheless had you melting for his consideration, especially when he adds, “You wanted it slow, right?”

And with your nod, he goes in painfully slowly that gradually leaves you in pleasure. He was hard and thick, your hole contracting to his size as it delicately found its way inside. It was your first time for so long you forgot dicks can get this big. You clung onto him, while his mouth rested just by your ears, whispering sweet nothings to comfort you.

He kisses you passionately as your warmth envelopes him whole, taking time for you to adjust. He was a perfect fit inside, as if his cock was molded out of your hole, and it's driving you crazy the breathy moans just wont stop coming out of your lungs. You slowly opened your eyes and it was met by his, looking intently at your face with the same thought plastered on his face: you want him just as much as he wants you—both your eyes tell, no words needed.

He began moving his hips in long thrusts to initiate his rhythm. Mouths hovering over another, catching each others’ breaths as your hips met his. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he increases his speed as well as the depth of his thrust. “You feel so, so good.”

Jihoon was just as loud as you are, if not louder. You kinda liked it, a man moaning to his pleasure, not afraid to admit how needy he can be nor stingy for reactions. And you had to admit, it just turned you on even more.

“Jihoon… fuck… you’re so hot.”

Jihoon, feeling the rush of wetness from inside you and also hearing his name through your whimpers, was going insane stopping himself not to pound onto you, drilling into your hole until you were begging for mercy. You were just so wet that it makes it so much easier to thrust inside deeper and faster, but he can save it for another time. For now, you were his princess, he keeps reminding himself. He’s got orders to fulfill, unless you amend it yourself, he will gladly obey.

“You��re so fucking wet… and tight… fuck.” he trailed the last word as he increased his intensity unknowingly, which you didn’t mind.

“Harder… please…”

He follows suit, pulling far and pushing deep into you in perfectly timed intervals. He definitely got rhythm, perks of being a composer, you thought, you have to tell him that later as a compliment.

“Like that, oh sh- ahh…” you cannot even form words anymore, the way he makes you feel so good was almost inconveniencing the wiring of your brain. Your body now sprawled on the bed, no other movements, just your back arching and…

And your fingers interlaced with his.

The scene felt like two passionately infatuated people making love. You two were connected south of your heated bodies, but that did not seem enough for him; he had to lock his free hand with yours just by his chest. Heck you did not even notice how he planted kisses on the back of your hand when you were busy trying to savor how inch by inch your hole gets filled.

He is great in bed, you gotta admit, and he can be romantic as well. Why was he single again?

“I… I think I’m…” close. He knows. He felt you clenching around him.

“Yeah,” he speeds up, as he can feel him coming too. “Together?”

You nod mindlessly, gasping at the speed he is now going. The pitch ofn his moans went higher, almost sounding like a cry. The thrusting went on not long before both of you finally climaxed in unison. His forehead rests on yours, hand on your cheeks and weight slumped onto you as he rides out your high. He’d like to believe that got him tired, but not exhausted. He can definitely go for rounds given he gets rest for a while, if he gets permission that is.

He groans as he pulls himself out, a decision which gained a whine from you. The guy just chuckles as he pumps himself dry. The view looked mesmerizing, him with an afterglow, sweaty in full glory, and face contorting to pleasure accompanied by guttural moans he did not try to suppress even a bit. You imagined, does he look like that, flushed in red, shining from the little light inside the room, when he touches himself? You thought there's nothing sexier than a JIhoon who is fully immersed in his projects. Well, you just have gotten corrected.

You leaned into him, feeling his breath touch your lips. Your eyes still hooded from your release, and you’re still a bit sensitive but damn, you’re craving for more.

“You look hot like that,” you just had to say it. There’s nothing to lose in being honest in words and in action, right?

“Uh-huh, how’s that for a boyfriend?”

“I’d love it,” You bit your lips, standing on your knees to straddle him in between. Your eyes are still hooded, and your hole sensitive. But damn, your friend over here just looked a little too irresistible and you just craved for more.

You sat on his thigh as your mouth found its way to his neck, hitting that sweet spot of his right off the bat. He was hissing at the contact, leaning backwards with support of his one arm. “No way… You’re going to make me hard again in no time.”

That’s exactly what you were aiming for. The night has just started anyway. Might as well spend the whole time enthusiastically riding out fantasies. Jihoon himself had too many of them. He got advantage, he need not think hard and just live the dream. Daydeams, rather.

The guy cannot believe he is not gonna touch his fleshlight tonight. You were here right on top of him, making out as you went down on him, reaching the twitching target that was just gaining filled up yet again.

Your tongue traced his shaft from its base, maintaining eye contact with him. He tried so hard to keep it, but failed because your naughty tongue makes it difficult for him to. The process was all too familiar, you had your own practices at this very mattress accompanied by your dildo when you’re alone. The fascinating thing now is that you witness it grow right in front of your eyes as you give your full attention to it.

“How are you so good at this—hmmphhfuck!” His brows are furrowed and mouth hanging wide, obviously having the time of his life watching your mouth take him in whole. He has gone full erect in no time after bucking his hips for a few seconds and then deciding he misses your pussy around him.

“Come here baby,” he pulls you for a kiss, with your knees automatically straddling him in between. It was like he had been away for a long time the way your arms wrapped around his shoulder, kissing him deeper. Your throbbing wet folds full of arousal was resting against his pulsating girth, making you moan in between kisses.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” his kisses went sloppy as he goes into your neck, and also your chest, giving your erect nipples more attention it deserves.

“God… I need you too, Jihoon-ah…. I need more please….”

You did not need to beg, but hearing it with your needy voice and lustful eyes had him acting from adrenaline, pulling your body closer, groping you as if you would even run away from his arms. His cock was poking your entrance by then, and you let yourself sink on it almost immediately without warning.

“Fuck!” screamed halfway through, when Jihoon himself thrusted up so he can fill you in, albeit he himself is still a bit sensitive.

The sting was quick to be washed out by sensual gratification as the overstimulation picked up your pace when you began riding him.

“Holy shit,” tears well up in your eyes, as you writhe in pleasurable pain. Jihoon too was moaning out loud, gaining his momentum in thrusting upwards as fast as he could. Your bodies were clinging into each other, sweats mixing and skin slapping, but nothing matters. Not the sound of pattering rain drops outside the window, nor the volume of your moans that may have already reached the maximum your walls can hide, not even the creaking of the bed that has reached the floorboards. Only the pleasure you share is important right now, and nothing should come in between.

“Hold it, please…” Jihoon spoke in behind his gritted teeth when he felt you clenching around him. “Please… just….a little bit more…” He goes on thrusting, losing his rhythm once in a while due to his greed in taking his precious time with your clenched pussy.

You can feel him holding his release as well through his flexed thigh muscles and his eyes shut tight. “Fuck I dont wanna cum yet… i dont wanna cum… please….”

You were already shaking your head, arms hugging him tight to support yourself. His moans suddenly dips as he chokes on his own, and then gradually changes into whimpers like he is the neediest person in town.

“Ji… I can’t….hold it—” exhaling a breathy moan, you squirmed in his arms, head falling down his shoulder while panting heavily from your release. Jihoon came simultaneously, filling you up as he stayed inside for a while, catching his breath to its normality. Both pulsating and sensitive, no one dared to move a single muscle.

It took a while when one of you was consciously looking for the other’s lips. It was a simple kiss, a short one, but holds a lot of words he’s been meaning to tell you. He cooes, your name sweetly slipping off his drying throat.

“Hmm?” you hummed, as you rested your forehead against his, letting his hand cup your cheeks.

“What do you think?”

You chuckled at his words. He is insufferable. He really can’t wait until you’re all cleaned up and cozy?

“Actually, save it. I gotta clean up my princess before anything else.”

If there was an award for being the most outstanding service of an aftercare, Jihoon would have another plaque to be displayed somewhere not in his studio. It was a premium experience, even getting warm towels for the both of you before submerging you in a hot, bubble bath, complete with aromatherapy applying your lavender-scented lotion all over you right after. Stepping out of the bathroom in robes, he goes straight to your kitchen, you following him behind. He insisted actually, he wanted you to stay comfortable in your room, but you figured you did not need that right now. You just enjoyed his company way too much tonight, and you can’t seem to find another spot at home comfortable unless he was right beside you.

He prepares you a cup of warm tea just as how you preferred while he picks some drink available in your fridge.

“Banana milk? Are you sure? I’ve got juice over there.”

“Yeah, this is fine.”

“Sorry, no soda.” you shrugged with an apologetic smile.

You were sitting at the high chairs by your mini bar, with him by the edge as he pokes the carton with the straw. You stared at him for a moment, head full but no thoughts being formed.

“Ah, you were asking earlier,” you broke the stare before he senses it. “I’d be honest with you and say, that was probably the best sex I have ever had so far.”

“Pfft,” he laughs, without looking at you, trying to hid the blush forming on his cheeks. Too bad you can see his ears reddening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” at this point you were trying to calm the butterflies that started fluttering inside your stomach, distracting yourself as you dunk the teabag in the fully saturated cup of water. What is this sudden, stupid feeling in your gut? “Gotta give credit to your musicality. You’ve got a perfect rhythm. Oh and how your moans harmonized with mine. It literally sounded like music. You were also good with your mouth, and how you touch me. Attentive as well, the entire night. And the aftercare was a total royal treatment! And uhm…” you paused when you realized you were just babbling, staring at the ripples created by swirling the teaspoon in your tea. “Oh my gosh… sorry I got carried away.”

“No it was fine, I think I also wanted to hear that. Like a feedback you know,”

“for reference next time, huh?”

He chokes on his drink, dipping his head down in embarrassment. “No I mean…”

“I am looking forward to it,” you muttered cutting his words, as your eyelashes fluttered, feeling a bit tired yet relaxed.

He looks at you in full adoration, and a hint of boosted ego. God, why are you the most beautiful person in the world and why is he lucky to have you this close to him? Even looking forward to next time?

“I do too. I actually think we’re compatible in bed…” he says rather shyly in reference with what you told him earlier.

“Right…” you trailed. He meets your eye almost a millisecond long (short), and goes to sip his beverage until it’s empty. He breathes deeply, as he disposes of the trash all the while avoiding any contact with your eyes as he came back, not able to hide how he suddenly feels so nervous around you right now. You can’t help but shake your head. Gosh, Jihoon, can’t you be any more dense than this?

“We do seem compatible, no?” you continued, waiting for him to look at you again. He does, revealing the blush that never left his face, and your next words deepens its hue even more.

“...how’s that for a girlfriend?”

hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it! ^^ here's the prequel because we need it!!!

#seventeen smut #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt smut #kpop smut #seventeen au #seventeen fic #svt imagines #jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #woozi smut #jihoon smut #woozi #svt woozi smut #lee jihoon #svt woozi

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bonus-links · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! Could we have a director’s commentary on Ruins pt.11 please?? It drives me insane 🥺🥺

YEAHHH this is gonna be a long one. link to the update

this is also one of my favorite updates (and 100% my favorite dialogue in all of ch.1, possibly the whole comic so far) but I'm glad I waited to do a commentary bc I think this is actually really relevant to the latest update

cause like the conversation Loft has with botw Zelda here is very similar to the one he has with Ganondorf, though he's much less snippy during it

I wanted to give Zelda a chance to be bitter and share her grievances with the gods. Her entire story in BOTW is largely about how the legends and the expectations put upon her by them fail not only her personally but the entire kingdom. And yet she's made to feel like it's all her fault.

A lot of his comic focuses on the legacy of the Hero, but I don't want to leave Zelda (or Ganondorf) out of the conversation. The cycle makes victims of all three of them in various ways, and while I can't do everything at once, it's still my goal to explore that. The Zeldas in particular are all in interesting positions as members of the Royal Family, because they're at once always thrown in peril by it with little agency, and expected to be the facilitators of its success as the people with the closest proximity to the gods. Much to think about.

on that note BOTW Zelda is my favorite Zelda. she is my babygirl. she is my everything. I will die a BOTW Zelda defender. we haven't seen the last of her in this comic i promise :-)

okay on to actually analyzing the comic. This top panel is framed like a diptych, two paintings hinged together. these are often (though not always) associated with religious paintings and are often altarpieces. I use a triptych format in the newest update :D sidenote I think it's very cute that some of the Hylia statues in BOTW have been decorated, so i gave her a little flower crown

I imagine praying starts to feel a little strange when you are dating ur god. yeah. Also I think it's interesting that Skyloft seems to mainly worship Hylia, with the other gods being more distant. It makes sense given the whole "she personally raised us up into the sky to save us all" thing. Even though Loft is the very first hero sent on a personal religious quest directly by his goddess, I've always imagined him as kind of,,,,casually devout? In that way that it's all you've ever known. Like obviously his beliefs are deeply ingrained, but he's not as into the formality of it all as other Links we might meet later.

I think about Zelda in that freezing pool on Mt. Lanayru all the time. RAHHHHHHH

I've posted this before but close up of Slate running their errands, the errand being talking to the Great Fairies about if they've noticed anything weird going on lol. I actually wanted to make it a whole update on its own, but I cut it for time and also because. I don't think the Great Fairies really have any information that was necessary other than "no I don't know what's going on". So u get this panel.

I like this shot of that little statue towering over the both of them, and I mimic it a little bit in the new update here. something something about why we build monuments and what they stand for.

negative sim interaction

Loft still has to believe that Zelda and Slate's negative experiences had to have been some sort of misunderstanding. If Hylia could have helped, she would have. Knowing and loving your goddess on a human level also makes you want to give her the benefit of the doubt.

I actually really love that in BOTW Zelda resents Link for having some sort of access to the divine that she just can't reach. She has her arc about it in the game, but especially now she's come to understand that having the gods' favor is a double-edged sword. Also, that's not really meant to be Peony, but I like the idea that Champion also had an affinity for fairies. :-( Intentionally the same pose as Slate at the fairy fountain, though Slate is so tiny I probably didn't need to bother lol

that was a lot of rambling lol but i have. so many thoughts abt the subject matter of this update. this is the shit about LOZ that makes me froth at the mouth tbh

#ask #directors commentary

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jazeswhbhaven · 2 months ago

Text

My Butler From Heaven...Full Service Included ❤ | Lucifer Butler Card React | SPOILERS

Okay so, this was shared with me recently and I had to jump on it and speak on this because let me tell y'all...if you're a hardcore Lucifer stan....this card will fulfill your needs in more ways than one because PHEW.

Not only do we get a side of Lucifer we rarely see, we get some background on why he even acts this way in the first place. Plus a little cameo from God himself? Well damn.

You know the drill, grab a snack, a blanket and let's get into itttt

🤍Story Details🤍

So I can actually talk more about this card because it's not exclusive and will be in the general pool in 3 months time. However I prefer doing the bullet points because I can be silly with the screenshots in the next part lmaoo

So we begin with Gamigin and Morax talking about the "Butt Contest" and that they got to see what Lucifer looks like in his butler outfit, but Gamigin was only really interested in what Lucifer's daily life as a butler would be like instead. (I love that he's so wholesome he don't care about no booties lmao)

But to their surprise, they see that Luci is still wearing the butler uniform??? HMMMM

So back when Lucifer was in Heaven, he would wear the wide shouldered robes we saw during his flashbacks. He'd also wear fitted suits that made him feel a certain way and basically his own form of being comfortable.

Wearing the butler uniform also brings back memories from back then. And he wanted to relive those memories in real time, thus writing a formal letter and sending it via carrier pigeon to "the one closest to his previous master"

And here comes MC! That's right, Ra-On gets a invite to come to Paradise Lost, which makes them nervous only because of Lucifer's behavior each time they visit.

It's interesting that what tracks is that MC is bothered that their connection isn't really all that deep like the other Kings at all. He's often distant, and when the deed is done it's like he never invited them over at all and just goes on about his business as usual. With this I think it's just because Lucifer likes keeping things professional and clear. He's also an angel, and much much older than anyone there and is used to being this way for so long.

However, his behavior is now much more soft, courteous and kind. He's waiting on MC like his life was made for it. Keeping a respectable distance, serving tea? I mean I'd kill for this kind of treatment from him and rightfully so, MC is confused as fuck.

But even so, they can spot that there's some kind of sorrow even behind that dazzling smile. He knows that they can tell too because he addresses it head on, stating that he will tell his story as promised.

Lucifer admits that his reaction to having to serve the customer's at that cafe was natural because he's served under a master before. So the "effects" of the talisman didn't really do anything to him at all. All of what he was doing was something that came natural to him. Because "Everything that happens on Earth was first enacted by Heaven. God his Master, and Lucifer his butler.

And this leads to another flashback when he spent time with God, his father and creator. It's revealed that God often changed his appearance and expressions based on his mood, so Luci's favorite was when he was relaxed and treating him like the only son he had. God has immense powers but he often held them back because he was choosing to live as if he wasn't omnipotent. I wonder though how this exactly...benefits him? Lol you know what I mean like I guess humbling yourself as a powerful being is alright.

So a funny little thing happens and God just randomly decides to give Lucifer siblings so he's not lonely. And whelp a bad omen was predicted on the table cloth from tea stains. YEA H about that lol

Thus ends the quick flashback but Lucifer goes on to explain his role at a butler, and the original creation and son of God 💀 (well no Jesus mentions so) He even brings up that the butler attire, the suits and everything were originally thought up in Heaven and then just influenced on Earth. I like this concept because think about it...just sitting around wondering damn I wish I had nice clothes for this gathering and some 8ft tall angelic being is like "here you go" and gives you a sketch of a suit

Well anyway, Lucifer stops the story not saying much more (boo I want more lore) and then he asks if MC would indulge him and his urge to serve once again. MC accepts and goes around Paradise Lost by Lucifer's side enjoying every minute of the special treatment.

They finally make it back to the Greenhouse, also to note that there are portals in each country so MC can travel quickly and safely between them btw! (I mean I think we've known this but pointing it out once again is really nice) Where the final "service" will begin.

So, MC did something here which idk if I can even fault them for because let's be real...they were assuming that since "the final service" was about the happen here that perhaps Lucifer did this with God too. Which that was confirmed quickly that this was reserved ONLY for MC. And if we remember from his other card stories, specifically his selfie one, he did not participate in any kind of orgies in Heaven and he did not have a chastity cage. So sure yeah it's heavily implied he did sleep with someone (coughI'm guessing either Adam/Evecough) but definitely not God himself.

The intimacy continues, that is when MC gives the consent to continue. Lucifer begins by undressing them and it's mentioned that they shouldn't be nervous since this has happened before. HOWEVER, MC clarifies that this particular kind of intimacy has never happened between them. The soft, gentle, Lucifer servicing them instead.

Now the question begs, why us? Is it because of being a descendant of Solomon who was the closest friend to God? Nope. Lucifer confirms that even if MC is Solomon's descendant that is not why they were chosen. They were chosen because he cares and cherishes them. I believe this entire time he knows about MC feeling insecure about their connection to Hell not being one of their own but because of their ancestor because that's all anyone ever talks about. (sorry Sitri you ain't helpin' with that affirmation either lmao) But seeing him confirm and say to MC that HE made the choice not due to proximity but because they are someone HE wants to serve personally is just...it's romantic as fuck, cute as fuck, I'm going to die from the fluff.

So now things are getting spicy...here are some important buzz notes about the love making:

+Lucifer gently kisses on MC's neck instead of biting too hard until MC tells him they want him to heavily make out with them +MC is positioned behind him so his ass is pressed against them the entire time +Lucifer assigns some "work" for MC to grope him while he fondles them with his fingers/hand +MC starts biting him all over and Lucifer loves the fuck out of it +There's a moment where MC forgot how big Luci is lmao +The perspective of the nipple is...off I think??? Idk I feel maybe I'm not remembering man nip anatomy +Ngl his dick has that torpedo thing going on because of the angle but that's okay I'm not here to stare at it 😌🙌 (I do that for Asmo) +There's a point where MC flips around, and the scene describes that MC is the one controlling fucking themselves on Lucifer +Though in the middle of it...hehehehehehe he takes over and well... +Let me also mention he takes MC's arm and wraps it around his neck +MC jerked off his horn too, and when he came? Well it was a lot +Unlike the other times, MC is relaxed and safe with him after +Their ass got sleepy and went to bed, now come on he's good for another 5 rounds or so like??? You only got 'em for 24 hours let's goooo +He was so sweet at the end here like it's so cute I'm crying

And he says something important after the romp fest: "You may not know, but my master commanded me to love him, too. So you who loves me without being ordered to, that makes you special."

omfggggg and it ends it there! PLS I was so sad that it ended :< like I wanna hear more of that Luci, fuckkkk

🤍Screenshots!!!🤍

bbyboi screamin' so loud poor Morax's ears were bleeding like goddamn

Mmmm tight suits, so tight the buttons can't even stay closed huh. Leave it to me to slutify an angel wearing robes and a suit 💀

PB...don't do this to me. Y'all know it's bad to do this to me. Cause let me tell you how he could be beneath me right now..

I swooned because this reminded me of....

my sweetie, my tea guru, my butler bae, twin tipped tail hottie with the bodyyyyy. I miss him so much he was my official comfort character when I was big into the OM stuff <3

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh he's so darn cute here

So if y'all noticed when they had the Zapar themed login screen he was covering up Lucifer's spot on the illustration. At first I didn't really question the design choice and once I started getting into the event I was like hmmmm and then I looked at the login screen again and started questioning things...turns out...Zepar's talisman's had no effect on him at all even on April Fools day!

God just out here havin' tea while humans are out here killing each other and actin' a mess huh? /j

The stain on the table from the sugar cubes creating a ominous face is sending me because not him knowing he was creating problems and yet still doing it 💀 true "I should have stopped at one kid" vibes from God rn I swear

Male and Female outfits for Ra-On. So cute! Very aristocratic.

He's so adorable. A pigeon and squirrel kept bothering him the entire time so it reminded MC of a Disney princess (hahaha the Disney part had to be censored in game which makes sense)

The greenhouse having a room in the back? Think about how the stars would look through the glass???? THIS IS ROMANTIC AS HELL HELP

Ngl I would be THROBBING, like...the bed is already fucking wet now sir thanks for being sexy as fuck

Waiting for consent? Yessss love that need ittttt

I'll give anything, everything, my soul, my body, my first born, my entire merch collection, my pc, just to see him smile in real time just like this omfgggggg his teeths 😭😭

Marry me. I can handle another husband or five...

Pls. I would tear that UP like slutty waist to grab, just feeling that tight butt, let me see that thong Luci

He's proposing clearly, and I accept /hj

My literal reaction

Wanna see the lewds?? -> Bam, here we goo

🤍Chats🤍

Chat 1 Summary: Lucifer goes over what happened during the card story events and asked if MC was requesting another day for him to serve them, depending on your choices you can either deny you mentioned that or say that Gamigin was the one who assumed you said it. After these choices and the sub choices, Lucifer rambles a bit about human life being fleeting, how he's going to cherish the next time he serves you, that sort of thing. No photo for this one! Chat 2 Summary: Lucifer gets his nerd on and rambles about how he knows a lot about tea. Buer makes his tea mostly and was taught by Lucifer, but Luci is more skilled and the best, he even shows his brewing set/setup and its so niceee. Reminds me again of a certain demon butler who's passionate about tea as well. Also he can tell that Sitri's style of brewing is mostly a Hades thing. (then I wonder if infusing your underwear like Satan did is....an original thing or 👀) Chat 3 Summary: Lucifer explains that angel's have a higher affinity to humans and animals and other beasts. This is why animals in Paradise Lost follow him around alot. Depending on your answers you can tell him he smells good, and he asks if you have characteristics like an animal and that he won't judge while he's your butler lol. But also there's a picture in another choice of him removing animal fur off his clothes. Chat 4 Summary: Lucifer talks about how he was teaching his siblings how to serve God and he talks about who was the best apprentice. For Gabriel we find out that he's better at being served, instead of serving, he was even envious of Lucifer sometimes, Michael was obsessive and well...that means he wouldn't do very well either as a butler. Raphael would be the best. Faithful and served God the best, though he's "violent" that's for anyone that isn't God (or MC it seems) and he becomes docile and seeks approval. SO there you have it! Chat 5 Summary: Lucifer maintains his body and control by clothing to uphold the best butler traits. This is when he shows his thong collection...hehehehehe. But depending on your answers though, he could either ramble about God not making things simple, so mastering the mind is...difficult. Though he does look forward to spending time with us again and serving us...it's really refreshing how he talks to us in these chats!

🤍Date Story🤍

I had to delete a reaction GIF to add this cute image with the forest critters, jjok and Gamigin in the back!!!

Speaking of Gami Gam for a moment, he's quite small for a dragon if he fits okayish on the picnic blanket but also this is probably just him chibified for the purpose of the image alone lol

But the date story was short and sort of somber! Here's some quick bullet points:

Lucifer is still in his butler's uniform when MC wakes up, he won't take it off until they leave. Though he does start thinking naughty thoughts and being caught off guard by MC which is a cute thing to see for him

MC wants to pay him back for his gentleness and care the day before so they try to give him a massage

The message was a bust, instead of relaxing him which did nothing and he was pretty much stone faced the entire time and confused about this action, it stimulates....other desires

Luci and MC bang a rang one more time for a few hours which is wild to me having the deed last for that long but hey when in Hell....

Luci starts reminiscing about how Solomon (of all people) felt about him too in relation to being around God/Himself and everything that happened before both of them disappeared.

From this small interaction of Lucifer mentioning this and that he only did the butler role to get out of his head about unwanted memories, it really did put a damper on the romantic aspect of his actions. They were true and genuine, however him being honest that he only wants to forget things by acting this way really has me think of how much trauma is in that head of his.

Like think about it...thousands of year serving a omnipotent being, being created by said being, having a very skewed approach to what love and devotion is, then being side swept by a human who gains your creator's attention just like that and then your creator suddenly just ceases to exist right around the same time this man left. His brother's causing havoc and destruction, it's...a lot.

Though the main story was definitely more of a feel-good moment, the date story reminds us that Lucifer is always going to have this part of himself he fights with constantly. While this is a huge step up from his usual dynamic with MC, it seems there are some things that even MC themselves cannot heal. Perhaps we will see more dynamic changes in the future that further develop between the two. I really like this vulnerable side of him.

🤍Overall Thoughts🤍

I rate this card 9.5/10!

the .5 was taken out because I was just sad that it was over....that's all lmaooo

When I explain that seeing this service top side of Lucifer set me on something good I meannnn it. Like it woke me out of my recent funk and I'm feeling the love through the screen from our fallen seraphim. he's just...ah he's just... t h a t g u y.

If you're a Luci fan I suggest you get this card for yourself to have in your collection! The story is great (well you saw my react so lol) and the adore mode is really fluid and the variety of things you can do to him is so worth pulling for. EYE though, am satisfied with just experiencing it through friends and moots sharing as it fuels my satisfaction just as much. If you want the Date story, buying the NP is the way to go as it's cheaper than trying to pull multiple copies with the solomon seals. (sadly so, huh?)

It's funny that I did this react way before I did a react for the damn event lmao. That's actually up next before the next part of the event releases. it will be more of a recap honestly since I'm sure everyone's read through it and seen others talk about it.

SO until next time, thank you for sitting through my react, thank you all for your patience and interactions, and for my reals ones for sharing their stuff with me; this admin is forever grateful.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb spoilers #whb lucifer #whb reacts #jazewhbreacts🖤#whb screenshots

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lovemybluebully · 10 months ago

Text

A Small Lapse of Judgement

What do you get when you cross a drunk Wolverine? Tickled. You get tickled. 🤣

Okay, yeah sorry guys. This one is literally like twice as long as my last one, but Logan and Wade both needed to get wrecked good. lol I'm just having too much fun writing these guys. So get some snacks or something because you're going to be here for a minute.

More somewhat movie spoilers, and Wade saying inappropriate things to Logan's annoyance. lol Oh, and of course tons of cussing. And tickles. Lots of tickles.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

ler!Wade/Deadpool x lee!Logan/Wolverine

ler!Logan/Wolverine x lee!Wade/Deadpool

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,372

At first Logan had declined Wade's invitation to live with him at his apartment. Having been on his own for so long Logan didn't want to accept the fact that anyone actually wanted him around, but after Wade's persistent prodding and convincing he finally accepted.

"Yes!! It'll be like a sexy slumber party!" Wade had whooped, but one steely-eyed look from Logan made him turn it down, "Ahem. Or, you know, just two guys hanging out together with no lewd activities of any kind...."

No doubt Wade pushed Logan's buttons and got on his nerves more than anyone he had ever met in his life, but after their ordeal together there was no denying the bond that had been created between the two of them. It was hard for him to admit it, but Wade was definitely someone Logan now considered as a friend.

Surprisingly he settled in quickly and had begun to make himself comfortable, allowing him to let his guard down and actually relax for once. It was only a one-bedroom apartment so even though he had to sleep out on the couch every night he was grateful to have a place to call home.

And Wade was thrilled to have him there. Unlike his other roommate, Blind Al, Logan was progressively becoming more tolerant of his off the wall antics so it was nice to have someone else there that he could really joke around with. And drink with, though Logan still tended to embark on some solo day drinking of his own.

Wade shuffled into the living room in his crocs one late evening with Dogpool cradled in his arm to find Logan slouched over on the couch in nothing but jeans and a tank top and a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Further observation revealed there to be two more empty bottles laying around on the ground by his feet.

"Hey. Robert Downey Jr. Wanna take it easy on the booze?"

Logan lazily looked up at him, rolling his eyes when he saw Wade was allowing the dog to lick all over his face.

"I will once ya take it easy on always making out with that mutt."

Wade stared at him in defiance as he continued to kiss Dogpool's head while she licked all around his mouth, making Logan grimace in disgust before Wade set her down upon the ten-sizes-too-big dog bed he had bought for her.

"You know if you were jealous all you had to do was ask, baby girl. There's plenty of Wade Wilson to go around," he leaped onto the couch beside Logan and puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as he tried to pull the other man close while Logan cursed and struggled to hold him back.

"Hey hey! Fucking knock it off, asshole!" Despite his annoyance he chuckled a little with the alcohol lightening his mood and after a few more seconds Wade finally relented to sit himself back.

"You can fight it all you want, but I know you'll come around one day. There's no resisting my natural labido," Wade sat facing him as he gave a wink and a flirty grin, causing Logan to sigh with a shake of his head and take another sip from the bottle.

"See this is exactly why I still drink. I need something to help tolerate your obnoxious ass on a daily basis."

"Fine by me. It has its benefits. Number one being that you're so much less stabby when you're like this," Wade teased, wiggling a finger into his side as Logan squirmed and giggled before swatting at his hand with boozed up coordination.

"Why are ya always tickling me? I hate that shit," Logan was still smiling though as he rubbed at his irritated ribs.

"Because," Wade smiled and turned to look out at the audience before whispering quietly under his breath, "The people demand it."

He sat staring in silence for several seconds until Logan lifted a brow in confusion.

"The fuck you looking at?"

"Nothing," Wade turned back to him, "Well it's because I have to make you laugh somehow, grumpy pants. You're always so serious, and worst of all you never laugh at my jokes."

"Oh yeah? Have ya tried actually being funny?" A big shit eating grin was plastered on Logan's face as he instinctively pulled his arms in close to his body, not expecting Wade to let that one slide.

"Ooh hoo hoo, you're going to pay for that one later. You know what, smart ass? Maybe I'll tickle you in front of Laura. I'm sure she'd love to help me double team you sometime. A little badger on badger action, if you will."

It was Wade's turn to smirk as Logan just looked back at him with nervous eyes that he tried to hide behind the scowl now creasing over his face.

"You'd better fuckin' not."

"I don't know. It's sounding like a pretty good idea to me. Usually I have to pay to see that kind of thing but-"

Logan growled as his claws started to come out, but Wade just laughed and wagged a finger at him.

"Ah ah ah! Rule number one, no bloodshed in the house. So best keep those claws of yours in check, my little kitty cat."

"Just don't give me a reason then," Logan warned, retracting the claws before his eyes raised to focus on Wade's head, "By the way, how long are ya gonna keep wearing that stupid toupee? I already told you that you ain't foolin' anyone with that thing."

Wade looked positively insulted as he patted and smoothed down the hair on his head.

"Uhmm excuse me? As I've told you a thousand times, it's a hair system. It's so I can go out in public looking halfway decent. Not all of us were blessed with the perfect bone structure of a successful Broadway actor," turns his head briefly to look at the camera, "And besides, I think it looks quite distinguished."

"I've seen better looking roadkill than whatever that thing's made out of," Logan snorted and downed the rest of the bottle in his hand before dropping it on the floor beside the other empty bottles.

"Says the guy who looks like he has roadkill glued to the sides of his face," Wade gave a less than gentle tug on his muttonchops as Logan grunted and smacked his hand away.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I can grow facial hair, pal. You on the other hand don't have a speck of hair on your whole goddamn body. You're like a fucking pre-pubescent child. This is what a real man looks like," a tipsy smirk crawled across his face as he nonchalantly pulled up his tank top to show off his hairy chest and stomach.

He emphasized his point by running a hand over his hirsute, muscular torso while Wade just stared very, very hard.

"........Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it's working," Wade was smiling deviously and reaching a hand out as Logan chuckled dryly and gave him a hard shove, sending him flying to the other end of the couch, "Just so you know, I'm adding that one to the spank bank."

"You fucking wish, bub. Think ya got a better chance with that ugly ass dog of yours," he nodded over towards the sleeping pooch while tugging his shirt back down.

It was rare to see such a repulsed look on Wade's face as the man always seemed to be down for whatever but apparently messing with the dog was where he drew a line.

"Woah woah, that's just going too far now. You need therapy, my friend."

"Oh please. I forgot you were the fucking poster child for mental stability," Logan muttered as he lifted his legs to prop his bare feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"Heyheyhey! What in the ever-living fuck do you think you are doing? That's where we cut up our Bolivian nose candy-"

"I thought Feige said ya can't talk about that."

"Well what Feige doesn't know won't hurt him. Now let's go. Chop chop. Feet off the table, bud," Wade scolded and kicked Logan in the leg as the man rolled his eyes and begrudgingly pulled his feet down.

"You are such a fucking caveman. That table is an antique. Furniture crafted from the finest-OOof!" Wade grunted in pain as Logan dropped his feet onto his lap with his heel coming down hard onto his groin, "Uh uh nope. Not happening. Feet off the Deadpool too."

"Well I gotta put 'em somewhere. What? Offended that ya weren't my first choice? Be flattered I finally found a good use for you," Logan smirked big time at the genuine outrage that now displayed on Wade's face.

"What the fuck do you mean?! You've seen what a phenomenal cook I am!"

"Almost burned down the apartment."

"I'm the king of late-night karaoke!"

"Got the cops called on us three times already."

"Well I'm good at making friends everywhere I go."

"I had to beat the shit out of all those bikers to get them off of you. Not to mention you almost got us banned from my favorite bar, you dumb fuck."

Wade started to pout from Logan shooting down all of his claims, but was quickly back to grinning as he thought of something that Logan couldn't possibly argue against.

"Okay, you know what? You wanna see something I'm good at? I'll show you something I'm very good at," Wade smirked and grabbed ahold of Logan's legs, securing his ankles in one arm as he began ruthlessly tickling the bottoms of his feet.

Logan lost any sense of calm he had as he immediately broke into a hysterical laughing fit, figuring out too late that he had made a huge mistake. There weren't many things in life that could get the Wolverine to lose his cool, but Wade Wilson the Tickle Monster never failed.

"Baahahahahahaha! Wahahahahade, dohohohon't!! Okaahaahaahaay! I'll mooohoohoove 'em!!"

Logan was far too buzzed to pull his usual act of fighting back his reactions and trying to pretend that he wasn't as horribly sensitive as he really was. Not that any of that ever discouraged Wade since he knew he'd always get him to crack eventually.

"Nah, that's okay. You just keep them right where they are, Giggles. Maybe this'll teach you some manners. Or not, that's okay too. I wouldn't want to run out of excuses to do this....," he scratched at the soles with Logan going nuts and frantically pulling at his captured legs while Wade's arm only squeezed tighter around them to ensure he wouldn't escape.

"Stahahahaaap, ya dihihihick! Fuhuhuhuckin' lehehehehe-lehehet me gohohohohooo!"

"What's that? Aww did you forget your safe word again? So confusing. How do I know if you really want me to stop or not?" The merc teased with his fingers scribbling at Logan's arches as the X-man's laughter surged in volume.

"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Aaaheheeheeheehee nohohoho! Waahaait! I'm sohohohohorry!" He howled with tears already in his eyes as Wade found the weak spots under his toes; his body twisting and flopping around as he braced his arms on the couch in his clumsy attempts to get free.

Wade always enjoyed when Logan was in this state. Not only was he a lot less homicidal than if he was sober but he wasn't nearly as uptight and didn't even fight the tickles as hard. He practically just rolled over and took it and didn't hold much back.

He suspected that Logan didn't hate being tickled nearly as much as he made out and loved to tease him about it much to the older man's insistent denial of the fact. It's likely that Logan would rather die than ever admit something like that.

Wade then cleared his throat and began to speak in his best exaggerated Australian accent.

"Crikey mate! Here we have the Wolverine. Best known for its violent tendencies and natural ability to be a complete jackass. When confronted by a stronger and more powerful predator it begins to make the most adorable snorting sounds that are meant as a sign of his submission. Let's listen in, shall we?"

Logan had been belting out uncontrollable snorts all throughout his laughter and it was one of Wade's favorite things to poke fun at him for.

"Shhh-Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup! You're sohohohoho fuhuhucking stuhuhuhupid!"

"Oh, I'm fucking stupid? Who's the one making all the little piggy noises, Wilbur? Speaking of piggies....," Wade smirked as he started to play with his toes again, "This little piggy was an alcoholic....This little piggy was always so mean to his friend, Wade.....This little piggy talked shit about sweet little Dogpool....This little piggy..."

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuck! Alrihihihihight I gihihihive uhuhup! Haahahahaah! No-No mohohohore!" Logan had managed to pull a foot free and was now kicking Wade in the back as hard as he could, which wasn't very hard at all due his weakened state from laughing so much.

"No more? No MORE? Sorry, sweet cheeks. But I've got plenty more," Wade then threw his foot aside as he turned and dove onto Logan's prone form to now attack his very ticklish stomach, "That was for treating me like an object! This is for saying I'm not funny!"

Wade snickered with glee as the feral man expelled a less than manly squeal of giggles and immediately curled into a protective ball, though all attempts to evade were useless. Deadpool was positively relentless.

"Nooooohohohohohoo nohohohot thehehehehere! Okahahaay you're funny! You're fuhuhuhuhuhunnyyyyyaaahahahahahaaStaahahahahahaaap!"

"Oh sure! All of a sudden I'm just magically funny now! Don't insult my intelligence! You can't bullshit a bullshitter!" Wade managed to get his hands underneath Logan's shirt, raking his fingers up and down his bare stomach and forcing him to dissolve into a lengthy, mirthful wheeze.

"Why are you so ticklish? Is it part of your mutation? A result of a Weapon X experiment gone horribly wrong? Talk, damn you! I need answers!"

Not that Wade actually expected him to answer, but Logan was laughing entirely too hard and fighting it even less. He had his head thrown back in hysterics that exposed his oversized canines, writhing feebly while tears were leaking down his reddened cheeks.

It was a sight to see the normally powerful X-man rendered helpless from such a soft touch, but it just goes to prove that healing factors and big muscles were completely useless against a tickle attack.

Wade would have loved to keep tickling him all night, and he knew the man technically could take it with the high amount of stamina he possessed, but it was time to let him go now and save it for another time. Logan had been a good sport, and he didn't want to push it too far.

Pulling his hands back he now stood triumphantly hovering over the still giggling and plastered Wolverine, who kept his body all curled up in case the crazy merc decided to come for him again.

"Are you sure you're the Wolverine of legends? I mean, this isn't exactly what I had pictured. If I hadn't personally seen you in action then I'd have some serious doubts," he smirked as Logan finally relaxed and slowly splayed out on the couch.

"Heehehehe-That's the worst Wolverine to you, bub. You-hehehee-fucking suck," Logan continued to giggle as he struggled to fight off the dizzying high of the combined tickle assault mixed with the alcohol in his bloodstream. Wade was pleased to see he hadn't soured his mood.

"But do I swallow is the real question? Hehehe, sorry, I couldn't help myself. Now did you learn your lesson, you drunken idiot?"

Logan regained some sense of focus as he slowly sat up and looked up at Wade with the most cocky grin.

"Of course not. Gonna take a lot more than that, fucker."

"Do not tempt me, Peanut. I showed you mercy this time, but I cannot guarantee this next round I will be as charitable," Wade smirked and cracked his knuckles, surprised to see Logan lean back onto the couch with his arms folded behind his head.

"Pffft. You don't fuckin' scare me. You can do your worst. Though I'm sorry to say you're not gonna get the chance. Ya wanna know why?"

"Why?" Wade practically demanded with his hands on his hips.

"That's why." Logan lifted a hand to point behind Wade as the merc whirled around to confront what may have got the drop on him and found.....nothing. Nobody.

"Wait a minute.....did I really just fall for the oldest trick in the bo-AAAHCK!" Wade let out a scream as he was pounced from behind by a playfully growling Wolverine and landed hard on his stomach with his face hitting the floor. He had seriously misjudged the other man's current ability to fight back.

"Heheh, you really are a fucking idiot. Now let's see how you like this shit...," Logan immediately dug into Wade's ribs from where he sat perched on his back and was more than thrilled by the scream that ripped out of the merc's mouth. He knew there was no way a loudmouth like Wade wouldn't be ticklish.

"Nohohooo Logan wahahahahaait! Ahahaheeheehehehehe! You cahahahan't tihihihickle meheheee! I'm-I'm the 'ler! Nohohot yooooou!"

"The what? What the hell are ya talkin' about now?" Logan didn't let up though while Wade tried to sputter out an explanation.

"The cohohohommunity! Ihihihit's a thihihiing! I g-guess tehehehechnically I'm a swihihihihitch buhuhuhut stihihill!"

Logan raised his brows, looking more confused than before as he ended up just shrugging it off and shaking his head.

"Nevermind. I really don't wanna know. Now shut up and laugh, asshole," Logan's big hands ran up and down his sides, squeezing his waist and making it back up into his armpits as Wade flailed and shrieked and desperately tried to clamp his arms down.

Logan couldn't help but laugh at Wade's reactions with how he had barely started in on him yet.

"Geez. Have ya really been this fucking ticklish this whole time? Looks like we've got some time to make up for," his fingers fluttered around under Wade's arms, producing wild cackles as he wriggled like a worm and tried to scoot across the floor.

"Get off get off! Nooohahahahahaha! I'm nohohohohot tihihihicklish! I'm nohohohohohohot!"

"Well if you're not ticklish then all this shouldn't be botherin' ya, right? Or do you prefer me stabbin' ya better?" Logan smirked as he used the three middle fingers on each hand to simulate his claws as he repeatedly poked at Wade's ribcage with rapid fire speed, "Hehe, now you're dead."

"Gaahaahahahahaha!! Nohohohohot the clahahahahaws! Mehehehehercy!" Wade begged, trying to reach behind him to smack Logan's hands away. Spoiler alert, it didn't work.

"Mercy? Ha! That's a fuckin' good one. Hey, whaddya know. I guess you are funny after all. Hehehe, tickle tickle tickle, fuckface."

Wade's hysterics were increasing in volume by the second and Logan snorted in amusement at the thought that they might get the cops called on them for a suspected murder happening in the apartment.

"Holy shit. Keep it down, will ya? You're gonna wake the-"

"What in the name of Satan's asshole is that horrible noise?!?!" Blind Al shouted in annoyance as she wandered into the room and nearly tripped over the two men roughhousing on the floor.

"Blind Al! Blind Ahahahahal! Hehehehelp mehehehehe!" Wade screamed as he managed to roll over underneath Logan and reach out a desperate hand towards his elderly roommate.

"You're such a dick. Ya know ya don't have to emphasize that she's blind all the time, ya inconsiderate moron," Logan rolled his eyes with a smile as he now had better access to Wade's ribs and stomach and dug right in.

"Baahahahah-Buhuhuhut thahahat's her nahahahahame! B-Becahahahause she's blihihihind! Gehehehet ihihit?!"

The older woman's lips pursed with disdain.

"Please keep torturing him. I will sleep good tonight knowing that stupid motherfucker is suffering," she gently patted Logan on the shoulder as she turned around and made her way out of the room.

"You got it, boss lady," Logan nodded with a smirk and scratched furiously at Wade's stomach, easily avoiding the flailing hands trying to stop him.

"Blihihihihind Al! Aahahhahahha! You trahahahaahaahaitor! Ahahahafter ahahall I've d-dohohohone for yooohoou!"

"Maybe you could gag his bitch ass too," she yelled back over her shoulder, making Logan chuckle.

"She's got a point. You're loud as fuck. Always makin' fun of how I snort while you're over here shrieking like a fuckin' little girl."

With that, Wade was struck with inspiration as he thought of a way to get Logan to stop.

"Yehehehes! Oh yehehehes Lohohohogan! Dohohohn't stop! Th-Thahahat's ihihihit! Tihihihickle me! Tihihickle mehehehe untihihihil I pahahahass ouhohout!" Wade pretended to moan between his laughs as he put his hands flat against the floor to demonstrate that he had no intention of preventing the tickling, though it was a major struggle for him to keep them there.

Logan tilted his head as he stared down at Wade in bemusement.

"Can't tell if you're tryin' to psyche me out into stopping, or if you really do like it that much. I wouldn't put it past ya to actually enjoy being tickled. Not the weirdest thing about you. Either way, if ya say not stop then I won't," Logan smirked and proceeded to tickle him even harder as he kneaded into his hips.

"Noooooohohohoooo! Okaahahaay! I lihihihied! I cahahahan't tahahahahake it! Pleasepleaseplease stooohahahahoooop!" Wade squealed and kicked his legs around and uselessly tried to grab at the other man's wrists to pry him off.

"Now was that really a lie? Are ya sure it wasn't an educated wish?" Logan loved to bring that stupid shit up every once in a while, knowing it would get under Wade's skin.

"So fuhuhuhunny I forgohohot to lahahahaugh, ahahahasshole! Nohohow gehehet off meeeheeheeheee! You fuhuhuhucking mahahahade yohohohour point!"

Logan was about to make another quip when he heard loud barking and turned his head to see Dogpool come flying over the back of the couch towards them in superhero slow-motion.

She then rushed in to grab Wade by the hair as she pulled with all of her tiny body weight trying to free him.

"Yehehehes! Mary Puhuhuhuppins! Saahahahave pa-pa! Thaahahahat's it!"

"Yeah.....that dog weighs like eight pounds. Hehehe, don't think you're getting away from me just yet, bub," Logan snickered as he dragged Wade closer and plunged his fingers into his armpits, earning another shriek as the merc futilely clamped his arms down and thrashed even harder.

"Looohohohogaaan staaahahahahahahap! I'm-I'm sohohohohoh glahahad to seeheehee-ahahahahhah-see yohohou ehehehembrace thihihis sss-sihihide of you buhuhuhut-AAAAHH! FUHUHUHUCK!!"

A loud ripping sound was heard as Logan looked up in wonderment to see Wade with a hand gripped to his now bald head as Dogpool stood there with his whole hair piece in her mouth.

Logan couldn't help it. The sight of Wade laying there with those fucking staples sticking out of his head and the dog now gnawing on his toupee like a chew toy was just too comical.

He started to laugh. Really laugh. Laughing too damn hard to keep tickling Wade as he literally fell over, holding his sides while his whole body shook in uncontrollable guffaws.

Wade was finally able to sit up as he glared at his hysterical friend, but he had a smile on his face too.

"Really?! That's what makes you laugh?! You seeing me getting hurt is funny to you? Pretty fucked up, you sado," he pretended to sound annoyed, but really he was anything but. It was rare to see Logan laugh like this besides when Wade was tickling him half to death so he'd let him have this for the moment.

Still he had to strike back somehow for this indignity.

"Puppins attack! Kill, my little munchkin! Kill!" Wade shouted as the dog rushed towards the fallen man and jumped onto him. But Dogpool didn't have a mean bone in her body and only knew how to attack with love as she affectionately licked Logan's face much to his aversion.

"Blech! Wahahade! Gehet your dohohog!" He bellowed as he continued to laugh, but other than trying to shield his face with his arms he didn't do much to stop her.

"Okay okay, come here, sweetie pie. Lets get you away from the bad man who tried to kill your pa-pa," Wade reached over and pulled her off of him, setting her into his lap.

Logan finally fought down the giggles as he sat up to find Wade staring longingly at the destroyed toupee in his hand. He kind of felt bad for the guy and thought he should offer some words of encouragement.

"Yeah, that thing's fucked. Big time. But hey, I think you look better without it," he nodded, using his shirt to wipe off his face as Wade gave him a genuine smile.

"You're only saying that because you're drunk," the merc teased back as Logan shrugged in response and grinned broadly.

"You're probably right. I wouldn't touch ya with a ten foot pole."

"That's okay. I don't mind doing all the touching...," Wade gave him a quick squeeze on the side as Logan snorted and lurched away from his reach and got to his feet.

"Don't fucking start that again. I'd say we're even now. Besides, you don't wanna fuck with me now that I know how damn ticklish you are. It's a stalemate. We can put this all behind us and move on. Now if ya don't mind I'd like to get some sleep," he waved the other man away as he grabbed some blankets off the back of the couch to set up his sleeping area.

Wade just smirked as he began walking out of the room with Dogpool in his arms.

"Silly silly Wolvie. I'm not sure you realize the implications of your actions. But I'm afraid this is far from over. You, my friend, have just started a war."

Logan's face fell as he only stared back at Wade in wide-eyed silence.

"Nighty night, Peanut. Sweet dreams," Wade smirked devilishly, waving with wiggling fingers as he flicked off the light switch on the wall.

#ticklish!wolverine #ticklish!logan #ticklish!wade #ticklish!deadpool #lee!logan #lee!wolverine #lee!wade #lee!deadpool #ler!wolverine #ler!logan #ler!wade #ler!deadpool #deadpool tickle #wolverine tickle #tickle fic

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revelboo · 6 months ago

Note

Just letting you know because of you and your amazing fics I got a soundwave blokees (I'm so sane and will not need anymore (I'm going dellulu)

But he’ll be lonely…

They’re excited about a road trip

Everything Is Alright Pt 83

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “Megatron finding out was inevitable,” he says, deep tonal voice low as his servos flex. Wishes he could reach for you even if it’s just to slide a servo against your hair. But he can feel that molten anger just barely leashed from the Seeker. Knows any move to come closer will be met with violence. You’re willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Starscream will never trust him again. “Safe under his protection now.” Only because it amuses the warlord to have a way to manipulate Starscream and ensure good behavior. He knows how precarious this is. How dangerous.

• “His protection?” Starscream snarls, wings trembling slightly in fury. Of course, Soundwave thinks you’re safe now. He’s never been on the receiving end of Megatron’s fury, always been favored. You’ll just be a toy he can amuse himself with until he grows bored or breaks you. Toying with you just to hurt him, amusing himself with casual violence just to hear you in pain. “I’ve seen how little his protection is worth.”

• Uncertain, you look between them. Torn between the fear Starscream’s anger is sparking and wanting to believe that Soundwave really did this as a kindness. That he’d been trying to keep you safe. You know them both. Are familiar with them. Megatron’s a complete unknown. He hasn’t harmed you yet, but if Star’s right his temper is too mercurial to trust. But maybe it’s like when you first figured out how starved Star was for validation. You’d manipulated him, feeding his ego to stay alive. Eventually you hadn’t had to lie to him, you’d started actually caring. You can play the same game with Megatron. Figure out how to be what he needs to keep yourself and Star safe until he bores of you. “Okay,” you say tiredly.

• “You can’t possibly believe him,” Starscream growls, looking down at you, wings flaring. Venting tiredly when you lay a hand on his chassis. “Primus.” Your trusting nature is going to be the end of him. Knows it, but still can’t bring himself to crush your trust, because if not for it, he wouldn’t have this. Have you. All because you’d trusted him again and again. Just kept reaching for him. So believe what you need to, and he’ll keep watch, waiting for the next betrayal. “Megatron is dangerous.”

• Spark aching that you’re still willing to take him at his word even though he hurt you, Soundwave’s head lowers. Because the Seeker isn’t wrong. Megatron is unpredictable and his anger all consuming. “We can protect. Keep him in line.” You’re looking up at him, eyes uncertain as the Seeker laughs, head tipping back to stare at the ceiling. Hoping this isn’t a mistake. That he made the right decision even as he’s not sure how to curb the warlord’s worst impulses. This was the only path forward, though. Needs to believe that it won’t cost him everything. Because what he has now? He’s not sure he’d survive losing it without finding out where it will go. Wants to wake up to your warmth against him, feel you drowsing in his cassette compartment, your wild emotions spinning him tight when he touches you. Wants everything.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #soundwave x reader #megatron x reader #idw soundwave #idw megatron

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mimipolo · 4 months ago

Note

hey :) could you do a nam-gyu fic where thanos is flirting/put claim on the reader, but she clearly like nam-gyu more. just him dealing with his attraction for her, but still trying to be on thanos' good side

Nam-gyu x reader

I don't know if I did this right I had like five different ideas for how it could pan out so I hope this is alright

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

You were content with the idea of completely ignoring Thanos, his odd claims and even weirder way of flirting. Sure, it was fairly entertaining but it wasn't something you planned to put up with for long.

That was until he walked up to your bunk with a friend in towe. A friend that immediately caught your eye.

"Ayy Senorita!" He draws out in his usual musical tone, behind him a man that looked uninterested, perhaps even annoyed to be there making you grin slightly.

"Aren't ya gonna come down." A whiney voice calls up to you, his face pulling into a frown as he crossed his arms.

"Dude, this a waste of time let's just go." He's still behind Thanos, a hand already on his shoulder, nudging him slightly, hoping to convince him to turn back, and as his gaze went from him to you he stops. The eye contact he made with you was so undeniable you actually looked at the rapper directly for once, startled by how your heart suddenly raced.

"I think I'll stay and eat up here...thanks though." Your refusal immediately has him grumbling as he dramatically pivots to walk away. But his friend hangs back a small moment longer, the brief acknowledgement held a value only you two could fathom.

"Come on Nam-su we outt." Thanos drawls lazily, his arms in his pockets as he swayed from side to side.

"Nam-gyu..." He sighs defeatedly, it was pretty clear this wasn't the first time and likely wouldn't be the last time he'd have to correct the rapper of his name.

Nam-gyu huh? You wouldn't like to admit it but you kept the name close to your mind, maybe he'd favour you for remembering it. Which was a weird thought to have for someone you hadn't actually properly met yet.

You hoped to though.

And he did too, when Thanos was insistent on getting you to eat with them he was almost instantly irritated. Why? What was the point of that? From the beginning he wasn't a fan of any distractions that could lead Thanos away from him, it was inconvenient and if he wanted to win he needed both their focus on that damn cash prize.

What he hadn't prepared for was the you. You who Thanos had miraculously spotted among all the bland people in this weird murder game. And he would never admit it, especially not to him that he understood why he was so hooked on you.

And with that came a jealousy. A deep, seething jealousy that came from nowhere. Now he was frustrated with himself, Thanos and you. And the worst of it all is him actually being just as bummed you didn't come down to eat with them.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

From then on there was this tense love triangle between the three of you which Thanos held no part in. You had no intention of making it clear to the man you weren't interested, first of all: it'd be too much of a hassle, and second because of his favour you've been able to survive games you probably wouldn't have. So you'd put up with him, no big deal.

The only thing, no, person making this harder was Nam-gyu. He was also seemingly smart enough to judge it's best to not make any big move as you were both benefitting from being close to Thanos. But it was painfully clear his attention was always on you, his eyes only snapping back alive at the mention of your name during the moments Thanos seems to talk forever. Having to tip toe around the unspoken attraction towards each other was fine by you, exhilarating even. But you're really starting to wonder if Thanos really can't notice when you and the longer haired man only glance between each other whenever he flirts with you.

Apparently the small amused smiles and prolonged eye contact wasn't enough for Nam-gyu. This could end badly if he was caught but he couldn't care less at this point, this whole time it's just felt like the two of you were saying a million things while saying nothing at all. And he'd actually be damned if he let Thanos hold him back from talking to you. He believed you felt the same, it's not just anyone that looks at him so fondly and sees him as an individual. You saw him like he was someone familiar and when he lies awake, he's convinced that's why he's so drawn to you.

Which is also why he's sneaking to see you during lights out. Was this a good idea?

Probably not.

But he'd already climbed past a snoring Avengers threat so he might as well see it through. He sucked in his breath harshly when he heard the familiar snoring pattern pause when he finally made it to the ground. His heart only relaxing when it fell back into rythmn. Not that he was too worried though, he had thousands of excuses on the tip of his tongue. A benefit that came with being a pathological liar.

He is oddly greatful that the majority of the people that were on your bunk had died, the only remaining players being two beds above yours. Meaning he didn't need to sweat about not waking anyone on his way up. As he begins climbing he draws to a question. What if you're not even awake? Even worse what if you are or he wakes you up and you think he's some weirdo. He physically shakes the thought away as he continues his ascent, he just needed to see you, then he'd go back.

It was odd being able to see you so up close, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. Seeing you like this calmed him down and made him want to fall asleep himself.

He freezes when you shift and his hair brushes your nose, your face scrunching up as you waft away the unwanted texture with a groggy hand. Eyes squinting open to see a stunned Nam-gyu instead of a stray price of fluff from your pillow.

What, is he doing here?

You gasp sharply, immediately sitting up and accidentally banging your head against the bed above you in your rush. He's quietly shushing you as you hold your head in whine in pain. You only look back at him when the pain has slightly subsided, hissing one last time before tear pricked eyes meet his.

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Can't I come to see you?" You squint at his words, they pissed you off, obviously he could but you were literally sleeping?

"You came to watch me sleep?" You ask sarcastically, grinning knowingly as he groaned and rolled his eyes.

Seeing as you weren't entirely put off by his night visit he crawls onto your bed fully, catching you a bit off guard but you make no objection against it which makes him strangely glad.

"Thanos isn't any good, you shouldn't be with him." He says bitterly, when you don't say anything immediately after he looks away from you and runs his hair behind his ears.

"...And you're saying you are?" you say with the slight raise of your brow.

You were just fucking around you already liked him more from the moment you saw him. Long disobedient hair and an angular face and a surprisingly sharp tongue when provoked. Ticking most of your boxes, you just wanted to see how he'd respond.

"Nah... but I could be better, than him at least." He says with a small huff which makes you laugh slightly, and he immediately notes he's never heard it before.

"I'll see you to that." Your words make his heart seize up but in the way when he's won when he didn't expect to. The carefree act he had going was going to crumble if you kept being so casual with him.

It's only now he feels the tensity of the situation, sitting in your bed in an area mostly secluded. He was actually feeling nervous being around you without Thanos there as some barrier to the two of you. You're looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to make some smart ass response but you're so pretty right now. Your eyes on him and him alone. He's keeping quiet because if he spoke as he was now... he couldn't promise he wouldn't immediately embarass himself.

Instead he looks between you and the wall, his eyes scanning your face each time before he looked away. Despite the chaos of feelings reeling from inside him his face was mostly unreadable. The only thing telling you anything was his jaw tightening and loosening, maybe chewing the inside of his cheek.

You tilt your head to see if he'd look at you if you were more in his line of view but he only locked eyes with you for a moment before looking up.

He was nervous?

The thought made your chest swell even though you knew he was probably just deep in thought. Either way your fighting back a smile as you take his face in your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. It was honestly amazing how he came back to reality from the contact. Staring at you with wide confused eyes as if questioning why you would even do that.

And when you start to laugh to yourself quietly he's chuckling flustered beside you. His lips pursed tight to not let the grin on his face appear, but his feelings were clear in the new softness in his eyes.

Nodding lightly like he's fully savoured your presence he's manoeuvring himself to leave your bed, giving the underside of your knee a light squeeze before settling on the ladder.

"G'night..."

"Night Nam-gyu."

The first genuine smile of the night freely slips onto his face, making your own smile appear before he's making his descent back down. Grinning to himself like an idiot all the way back to his bed because he managed to get the girl Thanos saw first.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Ever since then it's been this mutual joke between you two. You're holding back a snicker as Thanos serenades you because Nam-gyu's right behind him rolling his eyes and mocking him.

Nightly routines of him visiting your bed comforted you on those nights you couldn't will yourself to sleep. There's been more than one occasion he's stayed the night and forgot to go back to his bed and when questioned about where he was so early in the morning it's always "Needed to piss". He's glancing back at you accusingly as if you forced him to stay (you asked repeatedly very nicely.)

I love him sm I'm gonna cook him into a lasagna.

#squid game #squid game x reader #nam gyu #nam-gyu x reader #player 124 #nam gyu x reader #player 124 x reader #fluff #lasagna #thanos squid game #thanos

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silkscream · 1 year ago

Text

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

#megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fluff #megumi angst #megumi fic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #ree.writing

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