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#bloom x reader
leclercstarrs · 10 months
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sfw hcs, the specialists.
summary: the specialists and sfw hcs!
warnings: fairy!reader and not fully proof read yet!
notes: i know winx probably doesn’t have much of a fandom on here but honestly this show gives me so much nostalgia so enjoy!
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sky ✿
sky spoils you so much, he treats you like a princess, which is ironic considering he’s a prince.
to him, you’re his world, he’d never do anything to hurt you and he loves you so much.
sometimes, when the two of you are relaxing together, he lets you style his slightly long hair.
speaking of relaxing together, that’s one of his favourite dates, when the two of you just spend time at a cafe, getting a break from the chaotic fairy and specialist duties you usually deal with.
brandon ✿
you were one of the few people to first know that sky and brandon switched names. brandon wanted to be completely honest about the switch and you understood due to sky’s feelings about wanting to try a normal lifestyle.
literally the sweetest boyfriend ever, he treats you so good. he’s so gentle and loving with you, your heart melts every time you’re with him.
he doesn’t get jealous that often and neither do you, the two of you trust each other and have a relationship that’s really built on honesty and loyalty.
riven ✿
no one would’ve thought the two of you would get together, as riven has a high temper and you pretty much have no temper, always calm and relaxed. in fact, the only people that suspected something was going on with the two of you were bloom and sky, they always took notice of the flirty comments and subtle touches between the two of you. however, ever since you’ve announced your relationship with the hotheaded specialist, you’ve been extremely happy with him, and your friends started relaxing exactly how much sense the two of you make.
you’re a balanced couple that occasionally has rough patches, as riven can get really jealous and insecure, but you guys always make it out and your love grows even more. riven loves you and never wants to make you feel less than appreciated.
his favourite date with you consists of literally anything that involves you two being near each other, but he especially loves when you and him help your friends defeat the newest villain. he also loves when you cuddle with him, as he’s really just a softie deep down, constantly wanting to be touching you. he’s a huge fan of pda, unless you’re uncomfortable with it.
helia ✿
you and helia go together so well, no one was surprised when the two of you made your relationship official. your both calm and loving people, quickly becoming one of the best couples out of your friend group.
you love his hair so much. he just lets you run your fingers through his hair and style it into stupid little ponytails and buns, the man not even complaining about it, actually secretly enjoying it.
he’s literally the best boyfriend. he is always at your side when you need comfort and he gives you all his love.
timmy ✿
it took a while for timmy to build up the courage to ask you out, but once he did, you happily said yes.
the two of you are the definition of ‘opposites attract.’ you’re outgoing and a social butterfly, compared to timmy, who’s shy and doesn’t talk to many people aside from his friends.
he isn’t a big fan of pda, but behind closed doors, he’s always wanting to be close to you.
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mordredisacoolname · 7 months
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LA WINKS CHARACTERS: SNEAKING UP THEIR WINDOW
MALE READER
Characters: Bloom Aisha Stella Musa Riven Sky Beatrix Silva Dane
CW: mention of spicy times, age gap in Silva's part (reader is over 18)
Note: I've only watched season 1 so I'll add more characters later on
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BLOOM- she just started drifting to sleep when she heard light tapping on her window. Opening her eyes she saw you signing for her to open the window. When you slid in you laughed at her surprised look. "What are you doing here?" She had asked, but you just smile and kiss her.
Bloom will be nervous at first, but than she'll ease up and will drag you to her bed to talk, not risking anything else to not wake up Aisha.
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AISHA- she was doing her homework, quietly to not wake up Bloom who was already sleeping when she noticed you waving outside the window. She instantly started worrying as she thought something happened. She opened the window letting you in "did something happen? Are you ok?"
Reassuring her everything is fine and you just wanted to see her, she'll tell you how irresponsible you are and try to shoo you away. You will eventually surrender and leave, but not before teasing her and kissing her goodbye.
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STELLA- she was getting ready to sleep when she heard a tapping on the window. Turning her head towards it she saw you waving at her. She smirks, going to the window and letting you in. "Hey handsome" she said and kisses you deeply, feeling your hands wrap around her waist.
She has no problem with it and is happy you came. She'll invite you to bed, sitting on top of you. You'll have to be quiet, no matter what you do, but you do have your privacy as the other girls all sleep in other bedrooms.
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MUSA- she already sensed you coming up, so she opened the window and sat back down on her bed, taking her headphones off. You slid to the room and saw her smiling at you. "Hey" you said and hurried to jump on her taking her head in your hands and kissing her. "Hey yourself" she said drawing you closer to her.
She likes this hour of night, when everyone is asleep and she has her peace and quiet. But sometimes it gets lonely, and she enjoys your company, laying together, making out, and other stuff.
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RIVEN- most of the time he's snicking to you, but this time you were the one climbing through his window. You texted him to open it a few minutes before, and now he was laying in his stomach facing the other side, smoking a joint (sky was finally somewhere else, so he could smoke in peace). You went up to the bed climbing up, and squishing him with your whole weight. "Ugh Jesus" he complained while you held his wrist and took a puff, kissing his neck in the process.
You'll joke around and smoke for a bit, deciding to have fun a little bit, starting with shotguns and kissing, and than continuing your activities.
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SKY- opening the window he harshly whisper asked you what are you doing here. When you told him you wanted to hang he said "wait for me outside". Pulling his shoes on he hurried down to you and took you by the hand to a less visible place.
He likes sticking out with you but worries that someone will see you coming to his room, so you just go outside to a more private place and hang there, when he is visibly more relaxed.
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BEATRIX- she was reading a spells book when she saw you gesturing for her to open the window. She put the book aside and opened the window. Smirking, she didn't let you in yet "did you want something?" She asked. "Come on let me in" you pleaded. When you were both inside you hoped on her bed, lying on your back with your hands behind your head. She claimed on top of you and started kissing you.
She loves when you snick inside her dorm and distract her, making her worries go away and just have fun.
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SILVA- he was working on taking his gear off when he saw you climbing up to his window. With a shocked expression he opened the window and helped you gat inside. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asked stunned "just want to hang with you" you said sweetly and came up to him wrapping your hands around him kissing him deeply. "And what you just decided to climb up my window and ignore the door?" He said amused between kisses. "I didn't want Farah or Ben seeing me, it's only my second year teaching here and as far as I remember they didn't like me very much as a student"
You continued making out eventually getting to bed to do more than just kissing.
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DANE- he gaped in surprise when he saw you at his window. Letting you in he quietly closed his door not to wake up his roommate. "Hey-" he didn't finish his sentence as you grabbed his face kissing him. "Hey" you said when you parted from him. He smiled and grabbed your waist, telling you it is a pleasant surprise while you were dragging him to his bed.
You didn't snick up to his room often, but when you did he enjoyed every moment. Sometimes you just sat together rumbling about random stuff, and sometimes you did more. It really depends on both of your moods.
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princess-odette · 2 years
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Winx
💙=Male💖=Female 💛=Neutral 🌈=Fluff 💦=Light smut 💀=Angst 💜=Mtf 🖤=Ftm
Mood board credit @domxmarvel​​  
Bloom
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Stella
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Flora
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Sky
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lxkeee · 3 months
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END GAME
PART ONE
pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fluff
warnings: no warnings yet.
notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)
additional notes: this is a long one.
Part two |
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[y/n] stood in the podium, her hands bound by golden chains. She looked at the higher angels who sat on the high chairs of the courtroom, her [e/c] eyes stared at them with boredom. She never liked being in heaven, so many rules to the point she couldn't breathe. She was created a few years after the infamous Lucifer fell from grace, she admired him. She has heard his cause and mentally agreed to his beliefs—she couldn't say it out loud as the higher beings would punish her. She was a good angel, always a rule follower and a good role model, then she suffered from burnt out, repeating the same thing everyday—waking up, praying, doing good, following the rules.
She started questioning their ways and now, the time has come for it to bite her back as she finally faces a trial. [Y/n] what happened the majority of her trial, she remembers doing a couple of nods in agreement and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever Adam said something stupid. She couldn't take whatever bullshit Sera was yapping about and decided to cut her off, “Enough about all these rules, just admit that us angels are egomaniacs, always hungry for control. Heck, Lucifer was right with his intentions but you guys saw it as an act of disobedience. You didn't like what he was doing since it didn't follow what you guys wanted him to do.” She said coldly, her tone making the whole room tense and cold, “he thought it was unfair to the humans to follow whatever heaven's command is without question and hesitation. But Lucifer gave them freedom,” [y/n] pauses, glaring at the higher beings, eyebrows furrowed and her eyes staring at their very soul, “Heaven is fake, you put on a show for everyone, pretending that everything is fine and this is a fun place filled with peace and we all know you guys want them to blindly follow your rules.”
“Do not ever speak his name or do you want to follow where he is?” Sera asked loudly, her voice commanding and echoing off the walls of the court but her message just made the angel in trial smirk, “Oh...? Frankly speaking, I think hell seems to be a better and more fun place than heaven. I could do whatever the fuck I want.” [y/n] says with a smirk, heart thumping loudly for the first curse word she had said. This made Sera more angry, “Then, so be it.” Sera sneers.
Falling... So this is what Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. Lucifer was lucky as heaven wasn't this harsh before, [y/n] closes her eyes as she felt the stinging pain of the wind caressing her back, golden ichor flowing from where her wings should be, but despite the pain, a grin was plastered on her face as she embraced the imminent pain she'll receive once she hits the burning ground of hell. Despite the extreme pain she felt on her back, the missing part of her that heaven decided to take—she felt free, shimmering tears cascades down her cheeks as she cried for her acquired freedom while simultaneously mourning for the loss of her wings. Her weak body passing by many, many clouds, passing by the crust of the earth and soon she could see the fiery red skies of hell, she can only wait for the impact.
She could hear the sound of something breaking and cracking, the loud ringing on her ears before her world turned dark. Falling from grace isn't enough to kill her.
Lucifer's usual schedule usually consists of him wallowing in self pity inside his room, making rubber ducks, or having an existential crisis in his balcony. Lucifer just so happens to be on his balcony that day, talking to his newly created rubber duck that looks like his daughter when his eyes noticed the dark red clouds of hell parting and a figure falling at extreme speeds, at first he thought it was another soul who ended up in hell but his eyes widened to see occasional gold shimmering on the figure. “What...” Lucifer murmurs in confusion, his eyes following the figure and what the...? It's about to land in his front yard.
Only his eyes widened in fear as the figure crashed and golden ichor splattered everywhere. The realization damned upon him that another angel has fallen from grace.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucifer never cursed so much as he jumped off the balcony, three pairs of wings springing out of his back as he quickly flew next to the crash site. “I swear to me if this person died,” this wouldn't be the first time someone died in his front yard but it would be the first time an angel would, but can an angel even die from this impact?
He quickly checked the fallen angel, identified that it's a female. She looked like such a mess, golden ichor splattered everywhere, messy hair from falling, eye bags, and passed out but despite all that, he found her to be very beautiful, “I swear to me, this isn't the time Lucifer.” he muttered to himself as he began to work and make sure this woman is treated properly. What made the king of hell freeze was when he used his power to lift her up gently, he noticed that so much blood was gushing out of her back where the bone that should connect to her wings. He just realized why this angel crashed, she couldn't fly. She doesn't have her wings anymore and that realization filled his heart with anger.
He stared at her broken form lying on the bed of the spare guest room of the castle, he couldn't fully heal her. There's a limit to how much his angelic powers could do, it can't reverse the damage heaven themselves have done to her. Thankfully, he managed to fix all broken bones and close the wounds she had received but he can't fix the trauma she'll receive from this. Believe him, he tried (with himself).
His hand caressed away the hair that was falling on her face, finally taking a good look on her. She looked more beautiful without those wounds, she looked better without the stress—a contrast to the first time he's seen her. Warmth flooding his cheeks, he doesn't even realize that the red of his cheeks has become significantly darker.
“Ah, Lucifer stop. You don't even know this woman,” Lucifer mutters in annoyance as he squeezes his own cheeks to stop the warmth before eventually leaving the guest room to continue his usual routine.
He's starting to get worried, the fallen angel that currently resides in his guest room still hasn't woken up. It's been eight days. He spent the entire week checking up on her and continuing to treat her, he admits that this unknown angel's presence did good to his mental health as he was busy worrying for her that he forgets to listen to his intrusive thoughts. “What am I going to do with you?” Lucifer mutters softly as he places his hands above her, hovering over her body as golden hue begins to glow. Slowly and surely healing her.
Aching pain in her muscles is what she felt, slowly regaining consciousness. [Y/n] woke up in an unfamiliar room, oddly reminds her of the rooms that only royalty have. She tried to move her muscles but she could feel it cracking from not moving for a long time. “What happened...?” she asked herself softly, trying to remember what happened. The trial, Sera's anger, Adam being annoying, falling, her wings, then crashing. “Where am I?” she asked herself again, her voice croaking slightly, she slowly moved her body so she could sit on the bed, her eyes wandering everywhere, taking in her surroundings. She noticed that the symbol apple and snake was present on the designs of the tinted windows. The door opens.
Another week has passed, still no sign of her waking up. Lucifer was walking towards the guest room, preparing himself to try to heal her again. He opens the door and he froze to see the fallen angel who's usually lying limp on the bed is now sitting and staring on the window. “You're awake.” he says softly and she turned to look at him, her eyes, it's so beautiful. “Who are you?” she asked him softly and he smiled, “The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.”
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sanakiras · 4 months
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BLOOM FOR ME
PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader
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WORD COUNT — 18.1k
SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.
TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!
♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song
NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x
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you and kim mingyu just don't work.
to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.
and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.
all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.
you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.
soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.
and then there’s mingyu.
he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.
the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.
you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.
yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.
perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.
non-existent.
neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.
for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.
or, well — that used to be the case.
because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.
it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.
had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.
it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.
but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.
neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.
after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.
but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.
when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.
“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.
“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”
“what’s there to talk about?”
“what we did. together.”
“we fucked. so what?”
oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.
“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”
“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”
“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”
“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”
even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.
“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”
sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”
his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.
“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”
“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.
“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.
to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.
many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?
he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.
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mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.
he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.
his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.
if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.
and now, those feelings have only increased.
his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.
then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.
god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?
it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.
when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—
—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.
it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?
then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.
he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.
cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”
mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”
“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”
that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.
the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.
your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.
it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.
tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.
which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.
by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.
well, shit.
the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.
what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.
he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.
it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don’t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.
“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”
mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.
it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.
it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.
both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.
it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.
mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.
“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”
oh.
he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.
so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”
“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”
“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”
you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”
the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”
“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”
god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.
“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”
mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”
“not even a little bit?”
you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”
he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”
“i said no basics.”
“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”
“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.
“you’re evil.”
“thank you.”
he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”
“congratulations.”
“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”
“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”
mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”
“oh, you mean like a conversation?”
he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”
“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”
“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”
“which of your friends is closest to you?”
yeah, he should’ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.
he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”
“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.
“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”
“no.”
“why?”
“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”
“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”
“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”
“it’s not that.”
“what is it then?”
“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”
he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.
physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”
“okay. anything i should know?”
you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”
he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”
not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.
mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.
once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”
“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.
“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.
and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.
it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.
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“hey. mingyu.”
he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”
“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”
“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.
“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”
“many times, actually.”
“good. ‘cause you are.”
jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.
“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.
mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”
“what does she do?”
“law.”
“she nice?”
“to a specific group of people, yeah.”
“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”
“not mean. just distant. very distant.”
“that’s new.”
“what is?”
“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”
“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”
“what do you mean?”
“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”
“how do you know?”
mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”
“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”
the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”
jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”
“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”
a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”
“soonyoung’s party.”
“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.
“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”
“ah, you like her.”
“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”
“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”
mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”
“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”
“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”
“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”
“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”
jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”
“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”
“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”
“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”
right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.
“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.
it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”
jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”
“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”
he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”
mingyu frowns at that. “how?”
and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”
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the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.
someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.
you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”
“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”
“no, i like it this way.”
“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”
“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”
“what’re you working on?”
“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”
he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.
“are you always this much on edge?”
“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”
the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”
“not exactly the word i would use.”
“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”
you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”
he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”
“yeah. i’m not attending.”
“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”
“gosh, poor you.”
“i’m serious. it sucks.”
“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”
“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”
“so?”
“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.
“why?”
“why not?”
“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”
“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”
he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”
“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”
you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”
he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”
when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”
“ten.”
“dress code?”
“go for a cocktail dress.”
twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”
“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”
“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”
and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.
mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?
you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”
he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.
the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”
“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”
“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”
“must get quiet after a while.”
“i like it that way.”
your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.
once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.
you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.
as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”
the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”
mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.
the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”
which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”
before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.
“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”
“noted.”
once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.
and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.
“you okay?”
“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.
he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.
“am i imagining things—”
“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”
joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”
mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.
but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.
what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.
“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”
in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”
“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.
you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”
“what are you talking about?”
“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”
“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”
“why?”
“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”
his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”
whatever the fuck that means.
your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.
the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.
and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.
mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.
being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.
so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.
you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.
chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.
though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.
after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”
mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”
you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.
the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.
mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.
as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.
his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”
“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”
he snickers. “you hear that often?”
“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”
“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”
“doesn’t everyone?”
“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”
“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.
mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”
he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”
“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”
“why?”
when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.
“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.
before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.
whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.
“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.
so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”
they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”
he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.
it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”
the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”
“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”
she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.
but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”
and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”
you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”
the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.
worst thing is that she’s probably right.
you and mingyu just don’t work.
and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?
the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.
when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”
even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”
“i’m fine.”
“i’ll take you back.”
“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”
mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.
then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.
goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.
she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.
mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.
the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.
god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.
you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.
of course it’s him.
“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.
“why am i here?”
“what do you mean?”
you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”
“are you angry at me?”
“answer the question.”
“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”
you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”
“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”
“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”
“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”
what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.
you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”
“well—what?”
“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”
“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”
“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.
it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.
“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.
so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”
he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.
whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.
his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.
mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.
there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.
you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.
holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.
“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”
the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”
with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.
“are you sure?”
“yeah. please let me.”
“okay. just make it quick.”
in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.
because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.
your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.
his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.
another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.
“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.
it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.
“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.
you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.
“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”
the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”
he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.
mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.
“god—want me to fuck you?”
pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”
“fine. bend over the sink, then.”
the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.
so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.
his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.
all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”
you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”
it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”
“don’t act like you don’t like it.”
he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”
god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.
his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.
and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.
“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.
“how hard d’you want it?”
“as hard as you want. i can take it.”
he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.
his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.
you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.
it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”
“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”
you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”
“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.
mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.
you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.
he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.
“are you gonna cum, gyu?”
you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”
“i want you to.”
“jesus, don’t say that—”
oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.
“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.
his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”
“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”
his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.
it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.
he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”
he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”
“you’re quite literally inside me.”
“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”
“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”
“great. level 2 is next, then.”
“god, forget i said anything.”
“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”
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something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.
because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.
and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.
the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.
and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.
he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.
it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.
something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.
so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.
20:23: you look cute when you’re focused
the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.
so he texts back.
20:24: i always look cute ;)
tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”
“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”
you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”
“no. you’re just scary.”
“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”
“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”
“wanna come over to my dorm?”
“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”
“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”
“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”
as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.
“mingyu.”
“hm?”
“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”
he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”
“she likes you.”
“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”
“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.
that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.
“what?”
“you’re jealous.”
“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.
“it’s actually kinda hot.”
“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”
“and yet you are.”
“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”
he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.
as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.
once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.
you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”
“i’m fine.”
he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”
you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.
mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.
so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”
he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”
when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”
“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”
“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”
“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.
“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”
“do you even have the time to help me?”
he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”
“always so humble.”
“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”
“whatever makes you sleep at night.”
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mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.
he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.
and you hate how easily you get used to it.
for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.
which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.
so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.
as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.
“your girlfriend texting you again?”
mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”
“she might as well be.”
“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”
shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”
“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”
joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.
“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”
ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”
“have you told her you like her?”
“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”
joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”
“is she open with you?”
“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”
mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.
give it time.
which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.
you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.
just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember — it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.
a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.
“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”
his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”
“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”
“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”
with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”
“what do you have in mind?”
he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”
now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”
he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”
you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.
damn that asshole for making you like him this much.
saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.
mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.
it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.
your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.
then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.
before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.
he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.
mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.
watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.
you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.
shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.
it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.
you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.
the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.
it’s all yells of happiness on the field.
the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.
you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.
following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.
mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.
when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.
he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.
but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”
“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.
“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”
you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”
he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”
“something i’m very aware of.”
he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.
“wanna go catch a drink with me?”
“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”
“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”
he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”
you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.
“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.
you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”
“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.
once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.
“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”
oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.
you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”
you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”
christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.
he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.
you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.
“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.
his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.
you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.
arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.
“fuck, fuck, baby—”
you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”
it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.
his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”
“‘m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”
he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”
“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.
the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.
both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.
you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.
“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.
maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”
“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”
he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”
“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.
he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?
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another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call — and you find yourself worried about him.
it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.
you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.
it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.
when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.
the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”
he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”
“absolutely.”
he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”
you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”
he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”
you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”
the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”
he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”
his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”
as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”
“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”
your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”
his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.
as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.
you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.
maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.
one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.
you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.
now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.
you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.
they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.
still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.
smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.
out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.
you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.
when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.
slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.
you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.
‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’
he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.
and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.
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you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.
looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”
“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.
you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”
“is there anything i can do in return?”
“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”
the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”
a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”
your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”
it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”
“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”
the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.
he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.
and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.
whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.
but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.
after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.
when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.
“why have you been avoiding me?”
“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”
“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”
“i haven’t been avoiding you.”
“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”
you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”
he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”
“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.
“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”
“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.
“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”
he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”
it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”
“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”
“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.” his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”
either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.
your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.
kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.
so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.
he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.
“fuck.”
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it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.
which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.
it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.
you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”
minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”
hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.
“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.
“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”
he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.
your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.
mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”
he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.
there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”
they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.
he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”
“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”
“it’s not that easy.”
seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”
the other two just deadpan a stare at him.
on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.
you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.
the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.
as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.
“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”
when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.
personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.
biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”
“and? what’s your judgement?”
“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”
he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”
him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.
people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.
and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.
in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.
“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.
you exhale when he doesn’t.
knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.
minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.
as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”
“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”
he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”
you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”
“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”
taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”
minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”
the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”
he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”
you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”
hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”
with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.
there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.
“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.
“mind if i join you?”
of course. why are you even surprised?
without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”
“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.
you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”
luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.
he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.
since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.
the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.
his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.
you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.
liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.
the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.
“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”
“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”
your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”
of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?
mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”
that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.
“can i ask you something?”
you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.
“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”
an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”
“why not?”
blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”
“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”
“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”
he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.
“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.
“no, you don’t.”
“how would you know?”
you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”
“why?”
“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”
“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”
“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”
mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”
“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”
“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”
“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”
“since… always.”
“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”
“no, but i liked you.”
“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”
“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”
“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”
it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.
every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.
but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.
another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.
the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.
“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”
his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”
the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”
it’s not often you’re speechless.
he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.
“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”
he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”
“have a good night, gyu.”
you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.
as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”
letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”
“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”
you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.
“why do you even want me to?”
“‘cause i like you.”
“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”
“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”
“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”
“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”
his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.
mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.
“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”
you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.
“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”
but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”
“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”
“why don’t you wanna try?”
“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”
“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”
“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”
“then explain them to me!”
“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”
“no, i wouldn’t.”
“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”
“how do you even know that?”
“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”
“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”
the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”
“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”
“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.
and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.
“i don’t wanna lose you.”
he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”
his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.
it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.
mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.
he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.
you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.
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thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
1K notes · View notes
hanafubukki · 9 days
Text
Thinking about falling in love with Malleus.
How it’s such a gradual love that you don’t see coming.
You met him one night.
You might have even thought him weird.
Became friends with him.
Got to know him as Tsunotaro first.
Then as Malleus Draconia.
But never the future king.
There’s tears and wounds as there always are in a relationship of any kind.
But as time pass, so do wounds heal.
And as time moves, so do feelings gradually change.
Until one day, you noticed your feelings had seamlessly changed.
It felt normal.
A given.
How could you not have fallen in love with him?
This fae that held your heart.
He can have it.
For you knew no one else would treasure it as much as he did.
I love you, Malleus Draconia.
292 notes · View notes
cumikering · 5 months
Text
Keegan Russ x reader
3.5k | fluff, second chance, childhood friends
You matched with Keegan on Tinder
@glitterypirateduck’s holiday challenge, inspired by I Don’t Do Drugs by Doja Cat
“No way.” You shook your head. “Not Keegan goddamn Russ.” You chuckled as you stared at his profile.
It had been over 15 years since you saw him last. His teeth might have been straight, bowl cut replaced by a far more fitting fade cut, but his sharp blue eyes and easy smile remained. They were unmistakable.
This dude hadn’t crossed your mind in years, but you were pleasantly surprised to see he’d grown to be a tall and athletic Marine. You hated to admit that he got hot, even that not having a stupid haircut wasn’t a very high bar to begin with.
You zeroed in on his smile again. He was attractive and he knew it. He couldn’t have been there for anything serious.
You laughed to yourself. “What the hell,” you said and swiped right on him.
At the other end of town, Keegan laid in bed, swiping mindlessly on his phone.  Left… Left… Oh!? … Yeah, another left… Until his hand froze when he saw your card.
“Goddamn,” he muttered as he rolled to his side, clutching his phone. Where the hell were you all this time?
He took his time ogling your photos. The first one was a full body picture, your figure on display in your tight jeans. The second was a selfie, your eyes bright, donning a brilliant smile and glossy lips. The last two were group photos. He loved your style – comfortable yet tasteful. Your genuine laughter and the twinkle in your eye as you sat among your friends mesmerised him.
Okay, so you were the life of the party.
Keegan often worried about not having enough to say and preferred chattier dates who’d lead the conversation. Evidently, he didn’t have to worry about that with you…  Because you probably wouldn’t even look at him twice. With looks like that, you could have anyone.
He lied on his back and gawked at your selfie again, biting his lip.
“What the hell,” he said to himself and swiped right.
He nearly dropped his phone on his face when it chimed right away. It’s a match! He gasped.
He stared at the empty chat window, fingers drumming on his thigh as he contemplated what to say. He wished he had more game.
After a minute, he settled with a simple Hi, hope you’re doing alright :) are you from the area?
You seemed a little quiet the first day of texting, but he’d expected that, a usual occurrence in his endeavour. Keegan didn’t relent, coming up with discussions, although some he had to admit were rather lame. Soon, you asked him specific questions about himself, allowing the conversation to pour throughout the days. He stopped thinking too hard when replying.
As it turned out, you were from the same hometown. You went to different high schools, but had a few mutual friends, although none he knew anymore. He barely kept in contact with anyone back home safe for the handful of his close high school friends.
Now that he reached for his phone far more often on base, grinning at that, it took no time for people to notice the newfound habit.
“We need to tell command someone’s hardly working.” Ajax nudged Kick, nodding at Keegan at the far end of the rec room. “He keeps looking at that one selfie.”
He chuckled. “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is. Don’t get catfished, bro.”
“Or ghosted.” Ajax roared in laughter. He had no business sounding so proud of his pun.
Keegan’s eyes narrowed at them before looking back down at his phone. He wasn’t going to let his buddies stop him from sending you the What kind of bread are you? quiz.
At night, it’d also become a routine to text. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but it grew to be the highlight of his day. He could unwind and laugh with you without having to wait long to have you text back. His bed felt less empty, a little less cold.
“I’d really like to meet you. You’re wonderful,” he said longingly at his phone.
He knew he wanted to after the third day, but didn’t initiate a date in fear of moving too fast and appalling you. But after over a week, with his next deployment inching closer, he’d grown impatient and a bit mad at himself for overthinking the matter. He didn’t remember asking anyone on a date being that unnerving.
Unprompted, your name flashed across his screen, sending his heart racing. Keegan sat up and cleared his throat before answering.
“Hey,” he said with as much smoothness as he could muster.
“Hi, Keegan.”
He could hear the smile in your voice, and he prayed he had even a fraction of the effect you had on him, on you.
“I was wondering if you’re into soccer?”
His brows furrowed. Hell no, he wasn’t at all.
“You want to watch the World Cup screening with me Saturday night?”
But for you? Well for you, he was the biggest fan in town.
“Sure,” he answered immediately. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was it Christmas already?
“For dinner, there’s a taco truck I like near the sports bar, if you’d like to try.”
He tried not to smile too much, but he was failing miserably. He was two seconds away from puking out the butterflies in his stomach.
“Sounds great,” he breathed. “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
“Me too.” Your easy voice calmed him.
Kick’s comment crossed his mind. He stilled for a moment and decided he didn’t care what you looked like. The little of you he got to know the past week was enough to get him hooked.
“Well, I only wanted to ask that. I’m going to bed.”
“So soon?”
You let out a small laugh. Oh, he wanted to stay on the phone all night.
“Talk to you again tomorrow, okay? Send me more quizzes.”
After you hung up, he bit down a silly grin as he pulled up your photos again.
The following night, struck with a sudden burst of confidence, Keegan called when you were both in bed. He’d expected the pauses on his end (which was why he always preferred texting), but you didn’t seem to mind. At least he knew you weren’t opposed to talking to him. You stayed on the line for half an hour, your laughter lulled his reeling mind.
Saturday couldn’t have come sooner. He’d shaved that morning and put on some cologne before taking way too long to pick an outfit. He hoped it didn’t look like he was trying too hard.
You declined his offer to pick you up. He didn’t take it personally - he was a patient man after all. But when he’d arrived a little too early, he started to lose his cool the longer he leaned on the streetlamp.
He had to do a double take when he caught sight of you walking towards him. Oh, look at the way you lit up, your smile the same brilliant one like in your photos. You were in those delightful jeans again, your hair bouncing to your steps. He straightened up and met you halfway.
“Hi,” you said when you got to him.
“Hey.” His smile didn’t waver. “You look great.”
You took the words out of his lips, the words that he already had so few of. This was the opposite of catfish because you were far prettier in real life. He needed you to hold his hand because he wasn’t going to look where he was going.
He couldn’t wait to brag to Kick and Ajax.
You looked up at him, eyes bright. “Thank you. You look nice yourself.”
He followed you to join the short queue. He stole a glance as you ordered.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the cook, giving your hand a gentle nudge when you tried to pay.
First skin contact. Innocent enough.
But why did it get so warm all of a sudden? He hoped he wasn’t sweating. Fuck, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he shove them in his pockets? How close was the acceptable distance to stand next to you?
Well, he certainly stood close enough for you to catch a faint waft of his cologne.
You meant it when you said he looked good. He wore a light jacket over a black shirt, light washed jeans and sneakers. His jet black hair was styled, a little longer than in his photos. The way he stood with his hands in his pockets accentuated his build, his watch a nice touch.
Sure, curiosity got you at first. It quickly came to light that he didn’t recognise you – granted you used a nickname – but you found it amusing nonetheless. You didn’t even mean it to get that far but after talking to him, you couldn’t help but want more.
Dating was always daunting; putting your heart on the line like that rendered you vulnerable. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate – his company was delightful, but whatever you had between you felt stagnant. You thought your initial assumption was right: he wasn’t looking for anything more. Was this a mistake after all?
You sat on the bench nearby, the drinks between you. You took two bites before you stalled.
Your face twisted. “Why’s this hot?”
“Is it? Mine isn’t at all.”
“It is ridiculously hot.” You blinked the tears away.
“Can’t be. Let me try.”
You handed him the taco, instead he grabbed your wrist and leaned in for a bite.
He gave you an amused smile. “It’s not hot at all. Here, I’ll have yours.”
By now, a few drops of sweat had broken out of your forehead. You didn’t question it when he swapped the paper plates on your thighs and took a huge bite.
It wasn’t supposed to be hot! This was so uncool, at your first meeting at that. Your gaze trained on the ground as you took a small bite of his which actually tasted normal. When you looked up, it was his turn to frown.
“Wait. It is.” He put the taco down. ”It is hot.”
“I told you!”
“Oh God. Oh shit,” he hissed, scrambling for his drink. “Why is it so hot?”
You stifled a giggle. “They must have put the wrong sauce in mine, because yours tastes fine.”
“My tongue had never known such pain. What the hell is in this thing?” He continued gulping down his drink. “Oh no, it’s getting worse.” He sniffled before shoving the last half into his mouth.
“You know you don’t have to eat it, right?” You busted into laughter as he chew with all his might. “Why would you do that to yourself?”
His brows knitted, the agony in his watery eyes as clear as day. You handed him a serviette.
“That’s inhumane, but I’m a man of my word,” he said between hisses, wiping at his forehead. “My mouth is on fire. I need to inhale fire extinguisher.”
You could only offer him your drink which he gladly chugged. Still giggling, you finished your meal before making your way to the bar.
“I’m sorry, that was really embarrassing.” He grimaced through his drying tears, forehead still damp. “But at least you’re laughing. I like it when you laugh.”
You wanted to kiss him right then.
Keegan was the first man to make you willingly lose sleep in a long time, but his inaction didn’t sit right with you. Self-doubt inevitably crept up - maybe you simply weren’t his type, but you were too hooked to not at least shoot your shot despite your mounting fear of rejection. Your heart lodged in your throat when you called him that night.
Oh but his voice was so calm and soothing, and what for? He got you hanging onto every word - some straight up sounded like he was purring. Like now, he had to lean in closer and closer to talk over the noise as the bar continued to fill up. The deep rumble of his laughter so close in your ear got you biting your lip.
You didn’t want to like him so much, but here you were smiling non-stop the past hour. He’d taken his jacket off, his sturdy arms on display as he lied back. Now that was the highlight of his outfit. It didn’t help that he kept looking at you like that either; blue eyes piercing, brows striking with a cool smile.
It was unfair how effortlessly charming he was, like it was simply an unfortunate by product of being Keegan Russ, like he didn’t even mean it.
Well, evidently, Keegan was literally sweating about the humiliating incident. He sincerely hoped you wouldn’t excuse yourself to the bathroom to stand him up, but the smile hadn’t left your pretty face ever since. That was a good sign right?
Halfway into the first half, he extended his arm along the back of your seat, eyes still on the screen pretending to not notice the way your lips curled in amusement. You dragged your chair against his, thighs touching now. His fist clenched when you placed your hand on his knee.
He was secretly glad this was your first date – if he could even call it that. At least there was no pressure to keep making conversation and he could focus on your company, which he thoroughly enjoyed thus far. Was wrapping his arm around your waist an appropriate next move? He itched to be closer.
“How long have you been on Tinder?” You turned to him during halftime.
“A few months now.”
“Any luck?”
He looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t get a lot of matches, and when I do - even after many weeks of talking… Well as it turned out, people just aren’t very interested in dating long distance.”
When his eyes flicked up and met your sympathetic look, he wondered if he shouldn’t have been so honest.
“You? Any luck so far?” he asked quickly.
“I went on a few dates with someone who looked an awful lot like my first crush.” You let out a small laugh. “But that’s all. It didn’t work out.”
A speck of jealousy flickered in his chest. “Tell me about him. Your first crush.”
“Well, I was a late bloomer. It was in high school, he was a sophomore when I was a freshman.”
“Handsome dude?”
“Yes, but I actually never spoke to him.” You tilted your head and smiled. “Well, I did once, kind of. I don’t know what possessed me, but one day I walked up to him and gave him a bar of chocolate. He said thanks, and that was it.”
You looked over him. The crowd had started to move towards the bar
“I’ll get us more drinks before the wait gets too long.” You stood up.
Keegan perked up; he wasn’t going to miss his chance. When you came back, he’d mustered all his courage to tug on your wrist in the direction of his parted thighs. There was a glint in your eye as you indulged and he snaked his arm behind you, hand on his knee. You had a playful smile on your lips when you moved it to your waist and wrapped your arm around his neck.
He leaned onto your shoulder, his chest pressing against your side. He watched the way your eyes transfixed on the screen, how your glass would freeze against your lower lip at times. He couldn’t help smiling when you tensed up whenever someone got close to scoring a goal. His other arm wrapped around your waist.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off you when the bar erupted in cheers. You turned to him with a proud grin. Oh, your lips were just right there. He wasn’t going to survive the night.
Your favourite team won and you left the bar beaming. You were glad he offered to walk you home because you still wanted his presence. Your fingers curled around his forearm.
“I didn’t get to ask about your first crush.”
He chuckled to himself. “We were in fifth grade.”
“You ever told her?”
He shook his head. “She hated me. My friends used to tease her about her weight. I didn’t join in but I hung around anyway. I guess when you’re young you do dumb things to fall in.”
You remembered the raucous boys he hung out with.
“Over the summer, I convinced myself to finally say something, but she’d moved away.”
Had he not looked at where you were going, he’d have seen the shock on your face. Your heart skipped a beat. Is he talking about me?
“What was she like?”
“My memory’s fuzzy now, but she had two other girlfriends they teased too but she always stood up for them. Oh, was sassy too.” He smiled. “I used to stand around to overhear her jokes. If I laughed along, she’d stare me down until I left.”
You laughed, too hard for someone who supposedly wasn’t involved in the story. You remembered that too, the way prepubescent Keegan Russ and his dumb bowl cut scrambled away when you gave him bombastic side eye.
You couldn’t believe it. He had a crush on you?
“I think had I spoken up, we’d have been good friends.” He glanced at you with a smile. “You know, when I heard she’d moved away, I came home crying and my mum smacked me upside the head. Told me not to hang around with the shithead boys anymore.”
You stopped in your tracks and took your hand off his arm. “You really don’t recognise me?”
He turned to you, brows furrowed. “What?”
“You used to paste Superman stickers on my Barbie backpack.”
Keegan’s eyes widened. He turned away, a hand over his face, laughing out of pain. No fucking way. He wanted to disappear.
You chuckled. “A new one whenever I managed to peel the previous one off. Said they were boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t recognise you at all.” He lowered his hand. “But you don’t even have the same name?”
“It’s the internet. You’re the weird one for using your real name.”
His brows rose. “You knew it was me all along?”
“Right away.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” He shook his head. “That’s just mean.”
“Was wondering if you remembered, but we were kids. I’m not surprised you didn’t recognise me or forgot.”
The corner of his lips pulled. “Well, I didn’t forget.” And probably won’t. You haven’t left my mind the past week.
And that voice was back, of course. He definitely knew what he was doing, and still you couldn’t get enough.
“Wait, no. Is this it?” He frowned. “Did you talk to me the entire time- meet me just for this?”
“No! No. I wanted to see you.” The edge in his voice stung more than you expected. “I… I didn’t think you’d even want to, because you didn’t make a move.”
His cold eyes searched yours, making your heart ache. If only he knew how much he made you smile, how many times a day you wished he’d replied when you checked your phone. You never wanted to see that pain in his face again.
“Please don’t lead me on,” he finally said, his gaze softening. “Not when you know you don’t want this.”
You wanted to hold him. “I promise I won’t. I know it’s early to say, but I want to try.”
He took a small step towards you. “Are you sure you like me?”
Suddenly he was once again the young Keegan who couldn’t meet your eyes, asking if you wanted to share the last of his favourite chocolate with him.
“Are you?”
“Positive.” His icy blues were back on you. You saw the wary hopefulness in them.
You closed the gap, arms wrapping around his waist. You let out a small sigh as your head rested on his shoulder.
“May I see you again?” He pulled you closer, his voice lighter now. “I want to go on a date. A real one, with my first crush with the death stare.”
You laughed against his neck.
Keegan hated getting ahead of himself, not knowing how many more times his hopes could be shattered before the shards got to small to meet again. But as he held you, he let his mind drift, just a little further, just this time.
With his eyes closed, he thought that maybe in the future - perhaps soon enough, someone would be waiting at the base to welcome him back with a smile and an embrace just like this.
More Keegan: fake dating, werewolf AU
A/N: I think the song represents the uncertainty in the initial stages of falling, when you keep trying to swallow the hopefulness, cautious of each other’s intentions as to not get hurt. It takes bravery handing your heart over to a stranger, unsure if they’ll just stomp on your feelings or be the best thing ever.
@sofasoap @b1rds3ye @macravishedbymactavish @shadofireshinobi @two-gh0sts
581 notes · View notes
blooming-violets · 16 days
Note
private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?
[location based smut prompts]
The To-Do List
[tasm peter x fem!reader]
(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)
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His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven. 
She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up. 
Peter, of course, had other ideas. 
He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms. 
“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised. 
Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome. 
His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent. 
She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body. 
“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. 
She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed. 
“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.” 
Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off. 
“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb. 
“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff. 
Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.
“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.” 
She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.” 
Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?” 
“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?” 
“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.” 
She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.” 
“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal. 
She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.” 
Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…” 
She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”
She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.
“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!” 
He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.
“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.” 
“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”
He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second. 
“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.” 
“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.” 
“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”
She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone. 
Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”
He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips. 
She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him. 
“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?” 
She whimpered.
“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply. 
All for her. 
It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her. 
Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass. 
“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”
She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.
“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap. 
“Peter, please,” she gasped. 
He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.
“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence. 
She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”
“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?” 
She whined and nodded. 
“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”
Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”
He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”
She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him. 
That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.” 
“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”
He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body. 
“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried. 
“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?” 
“No, baby, never. I could never-”
He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap. 
She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over. 
Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”
Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path. 
He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried. 
“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 
He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm. 
The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands. 
She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears. 
That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel. 
His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready. 
“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.” 
Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing. 
“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”
The universe exploded into blinding light. 
She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman. 
Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine. 
Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn. 
He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat. 
“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”
All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing. 
“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”
She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries. 
He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.” 
He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down. 
“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?” 
She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased. 
His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow. 
Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him. 
With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down. 
He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily. 
Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more. 
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.” 
She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.  
His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling. 
Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…
For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.
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sunshowerwriting · 3 months
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they refuse to go to bed unless they hear from you and get a goodnight and an i love you. weather that be in person or over the phone or even through messages, they will not go to bed unless they hear from you. which has led to many situations where they will bother you and even wake you up because they need to hear you say i love you before going to bed.
MAMMON. HINATA. oikawa. atsumu. itadori. NIGHTOWL.
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sznscara · 1 year
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SEX, MONEY, FEELINGS DIE, TOKYO REVENGERS.
a/n : sugar daddy headcannons for sum tr men. thought of adding mikey but got too lazy
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sugar daddy!izana who’d dress you up in skimpy outfits in front of his colleagues to watch your helpless and embarrassed look, slowly getting off it.
sugar daddy!izana who loves you best when you wear lacy lingeries which can be undo by a pull of a bow
sugar daddy!izana who’s got a thing for seeing you humiliate yourself, by riding on his thigh to reach your high just to get the latest bag!
sugar daddy!izana loves you with his whole life, sometimes can’t help but edge you, all while you’re looking at him with glossy doe eyes and whimpering, almost like a bunny.
sugar daddy!izana who lets you know your place by letting you to cockwarm him, and whenever you try to thrust into him, he always gotta shut you by choking you.
sugar daddy!izana always loves seeing you get mushy and brain dead by his dick, sometimes using you like a sex toy.
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sugar daddy!rindou who lets you use his card, but sometimes you take it too far and he’s got to knock some sense into you.
sugar daddy!rindou rarely lets you ride him, but seeing you go into a blabbering state about how good you feel while riding him, makes him change his mind.
sugar daddy!rindou has a way for degrading you, making you sniffle about how you slut yourself out just for cold hard cash.
sugar daddy!rindou always needs some release for his stress, and it leads him messily thrusting into your throat, grunting about how good you take him.
sugar daddy!rindou loves your hair on how easy it is for him to grab on as he fingers you, watching your reaction.
sugar daddy!rindou lets you suck him till your jaw aches, while he’s staring at you with a slight smirk on how fucked out you look.
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princess-odette · 2 years
Text
Requests are open-Winx club
Guidelines  
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Bloom
Stella
Flora
Sky
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komotionlessqueenmm · 4 months
Text
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Imagine # 1,057
Gif NOT mine.
Year posted - 2023
Rating - SFW (Includes injuries involving flogging obviously.)
Reading time (roughly) - 10 minutes
It's been a while since I watched these movies, so some things are not going to be super accurate. Just roll with it my lovelies.
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Pushing Will aside (Y/n) stepped forward to face Davy Jones. "I will take his place." She stated suddenly, confusing both Will and Davy Jones. "You will take his place?" The Captain asked in bemusement, a amused smirk on his lips. "Yes." She stated confidently, shaking off Will's arm when he tried pulling her back. "(Y/n) what are you doing?" He hissed at her, again trying to pull her away, giving up when she shook him off a second time. "And why should I let you take Mr. Turner's lashings?" Davy Jones asked, several of his crew mates chuckling at the absurd demand. "Because then he'll actually learn his lesson." She stated matter-of-factly before continuing. "Will's a proud man, if you punish him, he won't learn, he'll only disobey you again, and the cycle will continue." (Y/n) allowed the Captain a moment to think before continuing. "But he's also a honorable man, and should I be punished for his actions, he'll think twice about causing trouble." She concluded, and she could tell Davy Jones saw her perspective. "Very well. The woman will be flogged." The Captain concluded, his men quickly grabbing her arms, and pulling her to the mast. "No!" Will argued trying to put a stop to this, he was grabbed by his father and only held back for a few moments before he broke away.
"You can't do this!" He shouted when he reached her, attempting to pull the crew members away from her. (Y/n) pushed them away and faced Will. "Don't." She warned, not fighting the men when they took ahold of her shoulders. "If you interfere, you'll only make this worse for me." She hissed at him, her serious expression turning to shock when the crew mates tore the back of her shirt open. "Captain get a look at this!" One of the guys barked with amusement, turning (Y/n)'s back to Davy Jones who stood with the rest of the crew. The crew burst into laughter, and the Captain chuckled in amusement. Her back bare to his gaze, Will gawked in astonishment at the sight, where over a dozen large scars littered her back. "It would seem this isn't the first time you've been flogged." Davy Jones mused, waving his arm for them to continue. "No no I can't-!" Will shouted when his father dragged him back by the shoulders. "Will you need to stop, if you keep this up, they will whip her to the bone." His father warned, and the young man went slack, knowing his words were true. "But shes- I-" Will muttered, cutting himself off as he locked eyes with her. "I know son, I know." The old pirate pat his sons shoulder in a vain attempt to comfort him. (Y/n) was shoved against the ships mast, her arms pulled around it, and bound tightly with rope. "She doesn't deserve this." Will muttered mournfully, his heart breaking at the sight of the fear building in her eyes. "She's a tough woman, she will be fine." Bootstrap consoled his son, releasing his hold on him, believing Will wouldn't do anything stupid or rash.
The first strike pulled a pained cry from the woman, and blood stained the deck, instantly getting washed away with the rain. Will couldn't control himself, when the second lashing came, rushing forward to comfort her. "Will don't!" Bootstrap shouted, but it was to late. Will stood before her, taking her hands in his, and resting his forehead against hers. One of the crew mates moved to pull Will away from her, assuming he was trying to free her. "Leave him." Davy Jones commanded, knowing Will wasn't trying to untie her, and allowing him to remain so close to her, knowing it would only hurt him more. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Will wept as she was struck again, and again. Her cries choked and breathless, the pain splitting across her back nearly unbearable. "I swore to protect you." His whisper was pained, as he peered into her watery eyes. "I'm so sorry I have failed you." He squeezed her hands, his own heart breaking at the sound of the whip crack. On the eighth whip crack, (Y/n)'s knees buckled and she fell slack against the mast. Will quickly moved his hands to grab the underside of her bent arms, and pull her to stand up straight. Knowing if she was hunched down, the whip was likely to strike her head, and the man wielding damned thing wouldn't care. "It's almost over." He tried to assure her, knowing the sentencing was only ten lashings. "Hang in there." He whispered, their tears mixing with the heavy fall of rain, foreheads resting together.
The ninth strike, and every muscle in her body shook from the shock, and pain of it all. The tenth and final strike came harder than the others, the force making (Y/n) crumble to the ground, despite Will's attempts to keep her upright. "She has the rest of the day to rest, but I expect her to be on deck working first thing in the morning." Davey Jones dismissed, the crew mates departing to go about their work, leaving Will to help (Y/n). "Take it easy, I've got you, I've got you." He murmured quickly untying her hands, and easing her into his arms as gently as he could. She whimpered in pain, clinging to his arms, her body still shaking from the shock and pain. "Easy firefly easy." He murmured softly, the nickname bringing a ghost of a smile to her face. "I'm okay Will." She murmured weakly, trying to stand on wobbly legs. Instinctively Will wrapped his arm around her back, nearly jumping away from her when she cried out in pain. She fell forward in an instant, and Will rushed forward to catch her in his arms. Now chest to chest, his hands rest firmly on her hips. Swiftly he hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and buried her face into his neck. "I'm sorry, I've got you now." He whispered into her hair as he carried her below deck. Once they were below deck, and away from prying eyes, Will sat her atop a sturdy table.
"I need to clean your wounds." Will stated in a soft tone, slowly moving to unbutton her now ruined shirt. Moving slow enough to give her the opportunity to push him away, should she want him to stop. She didn't fight him, and allowed him to slide the shirt off of her shoulders. Gently he slipped the shirt from her arms, and tossed the ruined fabric aside. He kept his eyes locked with hers, as she sat before him, bare from the waist up. "Why did you do it?" He asked the question that had been burning in his mind like hellfire. "To keep you from causing any more trouble." She murmured, her words only making Will scoff. "Bullshit. Why did you do it?" He insisted. "Because it's what you do!" (Y/n) suddenly shouted as best she could, grunting at the pain in her back. "You protect the ones you love, no matter what it takes." She huffed before slumping forward. Despite the shock he felt at her words, Will was quick to catch her by the shoulders. "You..." He tried to gather his thoughts, a far away look in his eyes. "Forget it." She grunted, holding herself upright and turning her back to him. "My cuts need dealt with." She reminded him, and in a instant Will rushed to work. Carefully he cleaned each of the open wounds, unable to keep his mind from running a mile a minute. His fingers subconsciously tracing over one of the old scars, muttering an apology when she suddenly pulled away from him.
"What happened?" He asked in a soft whisper. (Y/n) chuckled bitterly, glancing over her shoulder. "The life of a pirate isn't an easy one... Especially with a brother like Jack." She muttered the last part so only Will could hear. "Your-?" He cut himself off, knowing if Davy Jones found out, it could end horribly. "He's reckless." She chuckled again. "Just like someone else I know." Will smiled softly when she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I never meant for you to get hurt." Will muttered as he prepped a needle and thread. "Yeah I know." She shrugged a little. "But I also know that what I told Davy Jones is true. Had it been you to get flogged, you would have ended up making the same mistake of pissing off the Captain of the Flying Dutchman." He hated to admit it, but he knew she was right. "And if I was the one to get hurt, you might actually take the time to stop and think, and maybe just maybe you'd learn to keep your head down." She continued, hissing when Will began stitching her wounds. "We can't just do nothing." Will said, trying not to sound angry. "Jack will come for us, we just need to bide our time." (Y/n) said in a soft tone. "Jack? How can he possibly save us? You heard what Davy Jones said." Will argued, trying to keep his hands steady as he worked on her stitches. "He owns one hundred souls... How can he possibly get one hundred souls?" Will's voice was mournful. "Do you know how Jack came to owe Davy Jones so many souls?" (Y/n) asked pain evident in her voice, making Will slow his work.
"To get back the Pearl." Will stated, and (Y/n) chuckled softly. "Eighty souls would have bought him the Pearl. The other twenty were for me." She explained, her words making Will still in his work for a moment. "You see when Barbossa staged a mutiny, and stole the Pearl from Jack, he kept me prisoner. Knowing full well how close me and Jack are, he wanted to rub salt in the wound." She sighed when Will washed away the blood that had spilled as he worked. "I died Will." He froze at her words. "When the Pearl went down, I went down with her. I drowned of all things." She chuckled bitterly. "Jack bargained for twenty more souls to bring me back." She turned to look at Will. "Jack is reckless, a little crazy, and sometimes a selfish coward... But he always comes back, he always does the right thing, and he does whatever it takes for the ones he cares about." Will smiled faintly at her words, she really believes in her brother, and for her he's willing to believe in Jack as well. "You know... Before you told me Jack was your brother, I thought you guys were a couple." Will smiled at the face she pulled. "But I'm glad to know you aren't." He added before kissing her cheek. "I-" (Y/n) tried, but Will cut her off, turning her back around to finish patching her up. "And I'm glad to know you love me back." He added in a soft tone, kissing the nape of her neck, smiling when she shuddered in response.
Once he finished patching her up, he took and wrapped her torso securely with wrappings. And with that done, he removed his shirt, assisted her into it, and buttoned it up slowly. "What about Elizabeth?" (Y/n) asked after a moment, having been unable to think about what he said. "I thought you loved her?" She added. "I thought I did too. That is until I met you." His knuckles brushed across her cheekbone. "How many times have you saved my life, or protected me?" Will asked with a smile. "You need it." She smiled. "Yeah I guess I do..." His smile slowly faded as he thought about what had happened. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through this, that I did this to you... I promise... I promise you I won't let this happen again." Will insisted, resting his forehead against hers. "You know that's what Jack always says, when he gets me into some crazy situation that risks life and death." (Y/n) mused with a grin. "The life of a pirate isn't an easy one, but luckily for me, I was born to be a pirate." She added, making Will smile. "You should get some rest, the Captain expects you to be working on deck in the morning." He helped her off of the table, laid back in the hammock, and pulled her gently to lay chest to chest with him. "Drink up me hearties yo ho." (Y/n) sang softly, a tired smile pulling at her lips. "Sleep love." Will encouraged her, kissing the crown of her head.
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Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️
(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)
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Snapdragon - Bruce Wayne x Reader
Snapdragon (Antirrhinum) - Meaning: Presumption, deception
Summary: Reader thinks her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, is cheating on her. Bruce tries to figure out how to tell her about his nighttime activities.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader
Word Count: 1864
Warnings: Suspected infidelity, angst, discussion of insecurities, a little bit of gaslighting/misdirection from Bruce, Alfred is a sassy bitch, Bruce is a mopey bastard, cliffhanger ending
Day 12 takes a sharp turn back into angst! I wrote this with the Christian Bale Batman and Michael Caine Alfred in mind, but use any Batman/Alfred you fancy. Also, sorry for the cliffhanger.
In Bloom Masterlist
Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are incredibly appreciated! ❤️
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Bruce was cheating on you, you knew it. He hadn’t spent the night at your place in weeks, was texting you back at odd hours at night, and whenever you did manage to pin him down for a date he seemed disengaged, preoccupied, like he would rather be elsewhere. 
Dating Gotham’s Prince was difficult enough as it was, press following you everywhere and your face showing up in supermarket tabloids — you were just a regular person, you didn’t come from money or rub elbows with Gotham’s social elite, you had a regular boring desk job to pay the bills. 
You met Bruce by accident one day when you were on your way into work. You weren’t paying attention and almost walked into oncoming traffic, but Bruce had caught your arm just as you stepped off the curb, spilling your coffee. You’d turned, ready to give him such a tongue-lashing, but a motorcyclist zipped by at an ungodly speed right where you’d been about to step. Bruce then offered to replace your coffee and escort you to the office (“For your own safety,” he’d insisted with a  devilish smirk that you couldn’t say no to). 
You’d been dating ever since, almost a year now, which surprised most of the press. Numerous gossip sites were speculating about how you’d managed to keep Bruce’s interest for that long, but you’d learned to tune all their shit out. 
The insecurity you felt now stemmed from Bruce’s own behavior, not the latest expulsion of bile from the gossipmongers online. You’d texted Bruce to meet you at your place after work, only receiving a thumbs-up emoji back. 
You weren’t worth a real response. You weren’t worth his honesty. You weren’t worth him.
Shaking that insidious voice out of your head, you decided you needed a drink. In the middle of pouring yourself a glass of wine (box wine, another reminder of the insurmountable differences between you and Bruce) a knock sounded at the door. 
Looking through the peep hole, you saw a large bouquet of flowers held in front of a tired-looking Bruce. You opened the door and let him in, accepting the flowers and a kiss on the cheek. 
“Hello, gorgeous,” Bruce said, lingering near your cheek and stepping closer, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You tensed in his grasp, and he immediately let go, lifting your chin with a finger so you had to look him in the eye. 
“You okay, sweetheart?” 
Looking into his baby blues was a little too much to handle, so you simply nodded and moved away from him. 
“Yeah, just gonna get these in water,” you said, lifting the bouquet slightly. Fishing the one vase you owned out of the cupboard, you filled it at the sink. Bruce followed your movements, hands in his pants pockets while he watched. 
“I’ve only got a few minutes, unfortunately, but I was hoping you were free this Friday for a proper date,” he offered, smiling in his charming way. You only hummed your response, focusing on rearranging the flowers so they looked nice in the vase.
You had a speech prepared, known exactly what you wanted to say to him to get him to confess that he was cheating. Now that he was here, however, your well-formulated hypothesis was harder and harder to grasp. Like smoke, it dissipated the more you tried to catch it. 
“You sure everything’s okay? You seem tense,” Bruce observed. That was your cue, and you knew you had to take it before he got any closer. Once he had his hands on you, every rational thought would flee and you’d be at his mercy. 
“Are you cheating on me?” you asked, fighting to keep your composure. You’d never been good at confrontation, so you figured the best way to handle this was firm, direct, like ripping off a band-aid. You tried to put on a confident air even though your insides were practically liquifying with nerves. 
Bruce sighed, “We talked about this, you can’t believe anything you read on those sites. They’re just in it for the clicks-”
“I’m not-! I didn’t get it off the internet, it’s just…you’ve been distant lately, and I can’t think of any explanation other than you found someone more…in your league,” you explained, wrapping your arms around you in an effort to comfort yourself. The insecurities you felt earlier were slipping into your words, despite your best efforts to shove them aside.
Bruce softened, took a step toward where you were standing in your kitchen. When you didn’t flinch away, he laid his hands on your shoulders. “Babe, you are in my league. Hell, you’re way above my league, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” 
“I don’t either,” you said, “but this isn’t coming from an external source, it’s what I’ve noticed when it’s just the two of us. You seem distracted, like you don’t want to be in the moment with me. And it’s a rare occurrence that you text me back before midnight, if at all.” 
Bruce’s hands stroked down your arms, warming your skin. He leaned down into your eye line. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know you were feeling that way, I’ll be better about being present with you, I promise. There’s just been a lot going on at work and it’s been…busy, I’ve been busy, you know?” 
You nodded, “I know.” 
“But,” he said, unhooking your hands from where they’d been holding your elbows, “Now that I know, we can fix it. I’m gonna do better. Thank you for telling me.” 
You let him unfold your arms and bring them up around his shoulders, resting them there and bringing his hands to your lower back. He kept his grasp loose until, against your better judgment, you tightened your arms and pulled him into a hug. He returned your embrace, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. 
When he held you like this it was easy, too easy, to forget your stupid insecurities and let yourself trust him. In his embrace, every imperfection you nitpicked about yourself ceased to exist. He was a safe space — well, until recently. 
Bruce said your name quietly to get your attention. You looked up at him. 
“I love you,” he said, the look on his face betraying the heartbreaking truth of his statement. 
You pushed up on your toes and kissed his lips quickly — any slower and you’d completely melt into him. 
“I love you too, Bruce.” 
________
Later that night…
Bruce was well and truly fucked. He’d known it was only a matter of time before you noticed his odd behavior, the late hours, the preoccupation and distractibility. Fuck! 
He and Alfred had rules, dammit, and he should’ve followed them. 
No more than five dates or two months, whichever comes first. 
They’re never allowed to roam the house unsupervised. 
Most importantly, keep feelings out of it. Sex and companionship, nothing more and nothing less. 
But it was different with you. You’d…surprised him, which he didn’t think was possible anymore. You were funny and gorgeous — not his usual type, but still enchanting — and a little spiky, which only intrigued him more. For the first time, Bruce wanted to get to know someone on a deeper level. Maybe it was age, or he was finally ready to admit he wasn’t an island, or maybe he was just sick of the endless line of vapid, waifish model-types he usually dated, but whatever the reason you came into his life at exactly the right time and you were…perfect. 
What was the old saying, nothing good can stay? The truth of that statement weighed on him as he pulled off the suit, tossing the pieces haphazardly all over the cave, leaving a trail to where he eventually settled in his computer chair. 
“Y’know, sir, while kevlar is good at stopping bullets it does rather badly when left unattended on a damp cave floor,” Alfred scolded gently, bending to pick up the pieces of Batman. Bruce only grunted at his butler, pulling up the dossier he’d been preparing on the Joker. The last few weeks it looked like the psychopath had reemerged, which is why he’d been so preoccupied. Gotham barely survived the last scrape with that psychopath, so Batman had been doggedly hunting him after the sun went down. 
“Did you stop by her place, then?” Alfred asked, referring to you. “She seemed rather insistent on it.”
Bruce paused, then sighed and turned to face Alfred. “She thinks I’m cheating on her.” 
“Not exactly an incorrect assumption,” Alfred joked. Bruce flashed him a glare, but the butler didn’t notice. “Well, we knew this was coming didn’t we? Once you started breaking the rules for her, it was only a matter of time.” 
Bruce internally groaned, not wanting to admit Alfred was right. “I just wish I knew what to do. She’s the first person in a long time that I’ve actually wanted to have around. Present company excluded, of course.” 
“Of course, sir,” Alfred said. “You’ve arrived at a crossroads, if you don’t mind me saying. You either tell her, or you don’t.” 
“How do I know if I should tell her?” 
“That answer lies in how much you trust her to keep your secret.” 
“And how do I know that I won’t lose her even if I tell her?” Bruce asked, voicing his biggest fear. Painting a target on your back as well as his, and then being shoved out of your life. 
Alfred laid a comforting hand on Bruce’s shoulder, like he always did when sharing a hard life lesson. “You don’t, Master Wayne.” 
The hand left his shoulder and Bruce turned back around, each man now going about their usual business. A few quick incident reports later Bruce made his way upstairs to his bedroom, hoping with how tired his body was that sleep would claim him quickly. 
No such luck.
Instead, he tossed and turned, going over every possible outcome of the inevitable conversation.
Option 1: He tells you about Batman, you accept it, and the two of you make it work. This, of course, was the ideal scenario so he knew that wouldn’t be the outcome. Nothing in his life worked out ideally. 
Option 2: He tells you about Batman, you freak out and break up with him, and you become a huge liability. Giving you that knowledge would be like handing you a grenade with the pin pulled out — if you held onto it, you were both safe, but if you let go…Kaboom. And how long could you hold onto a secret that big, that dangerous?
The last option was that he doesn’t tell you, you continue to assume he’s cheating on you, and you break up with him eventually. He loses you, but you remain unaware and therefore safe — from his enemies, from prosecution, from whatever else came from being Batman's girlfriend. 
Around three in the morning Bruce’s mind was made up, his next steps planned, and resolve steely, but he waited until half-past five (a more normal wake-up time) to text you. 
‘Dinner at my place tonight. We need to talk.’ 
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mothdruid · 8 months
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First Session
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synopsis.
your first session at Gym Bloom has come. and the first trainer you get to meet? everyone's favorite and the beloved, Jake S.
pairing.
jake 'hangman' seresin x afab!reader
word count.
4k
warnings.
this is an 18+ work, minors buzz off. smut, protected penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, a sex gym (so maybe paying for sex?), fucking your trainer
author's note.
it's here!! the first gym bloom one-shot! i hope you all love it!
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“Wait, so your first session is today?” Steph sounded surprised.
“Yeah,” you pulled a purple sports bra from your dresser, “why?”
“Oh my god, who is your first trainer?”
You rolled your eyes at Steph's eagerness. Ever since getting you to join this gym she has been eager. She wanted to know everything, even though you barely knew yourself. All you knew was that they used sex to workout at this gym. Steph knew that too, she was to one who referred you. Which is how you knew it was safe, referral only. You could only sign up if you got a referral from someone you knew. And from your understanding, not everyone was actually allowed to refer people to sign up. So, you were counting yourself lucky to even be a part of this at all.
“I’m not sure, let me put my bra on and then I’ll look at the email.”
First you tapped your speaker phone on, then wrestled your sports bra on over your head. After checking to make sure that your sports bra and legging combo looked okay, you grabbed your phone. Steph was going on and on about a few different trainers. A Mickey, a Bob, a Nat, and others that you eventually tuned out for now. You went to your starred emails, clicking the one at the very top. You skimmed over the email, eventually finding the name.
“It’s Jake S,” eyeing the rest of the email, confirming the other general information of your session. You squinted as you noticed two lock codes.
“No way! How did you get so lucky?” Steph's tone had you pulling the phone back from you a little farther.
“Steph, calm down.”
“No, you don’t get it. That’s one of Blooms best trainers, a real treat if you ask me, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve actually never trained with him before.”
Oh?
“Never?” You questioned with a playful tone.
“Never.” Steph sing-songed back to you.
A smirk formed on your face.
“Well, I’ll make sure to update you about it,” you turned your speaker phone off, slipping the phone between your cheek and should as you head to the front door.
“Please do, I will have to know everything about it.”
“Oh, Steph, gross,” you slipped your tennis shoes on, not bothering to untie them first.
“What? I’m a woman, I have needs, and this need just happens to be knowing what Jake’s di-”
“Nope, Nope, I’m hanging up now!” You hung up quickly, not wanting to hear the rest of Steph's words.
After tracking down a baggy zip up hoodie, zipping it up only half way. You found your small side bag, checking to make sure your keys and wallet were in there. After you doubled checked, you grab your keys from your bag and slip your phone in your hoodie pocket. You locked your apartment door then headed down the stairs of your building. The place wasn’t fair from your apartment, maybe a fifteen minute walk on a bad day.
When you got to the building, you double checked the address after not seeing any obvious branding outside. After deciding it was indeed the correct building, you punched in the first code. A delightful chime played, signaling it was the correct code and unlocked. The hallway was short, but you noticed another keypad on the next door. You got another delightful chime after putting in the second code, finally letting you into the gym.
It was a very welcoming space. Bright colors complimented by neutrals to even it all out. There were ellipticals, treadmills, bikes, and many other machines neatly placed throughout the main open area. There were people using the machines, some others were chit chatting happily. There was a section of the gym that had a lot of doors, two closed and three open. You assumed those were the ‘training’ rooms.
“Hello!”
There was a gorgeous woman behind a short counter greeting you. Her skin was tan, dark brown hair pulled into a loose low ponytail. She had a matching pastel pink legging and sports bra set on. Your heart fluttered a little bit when she smiled at you. It was as if an angel was gracing you with their presence.
“Hi,” you awkwardly said.
“Do you have a session today?” She asked.
“Yeah, a two forty-five with Jake S.”
“You must be the new client,” she offered her hand out over the counter, “my name is Natasha. I’m one of the other trainers here.”
“Thank you, I’m glad to meet you,” you shook her hand, trying to match her smile and energy.
“So, I’ll check you in so Jake knows you’re here. For now you can go get a little bit of a warm up on a treadmill or elliptical, whatever you prefer. There are also locker rooms before the Bloom Rooms. Jake will come get you when he is ready.” Natasha smiled, marking something in the computer before looking back up at you.
“Okay, thank you,” you hated how awkward you were being.
“It’s my pleasure,” a sultry tone was laced into her words.
Heat flared in your cheeks. You nodded then turned, briskly walking towards the locker rooms. After entering the female locker room, you quickly placed your bag and hoodie into a locker. You kept your phone in the pocket of your leggings, not wanting to be completely bare without it. You found your way back to a treadmill, starting it up at a low pace. It was maybe five minutes before someone came up next to you, tapping your shoulder to grab your attention.
He looked like a living ken doll. Square jaw, blonde hair, green eyes, and fucking built. If this was the magical Jake S, you now understood what Steph was going on about. His biceps were hard to ignore, every minuscule movement noticeable. The black sleeveless shirt was hugging his torso and abdomen, not leaving anything to the imagination. You stopped your eyes from traveling lower, wanting to leave at least something to the imagination. At least for the time being.
“Nat says you’re my new client.”
A Texan drawl? Could he get anymore intoxicating?
“That’s me,” you hit the stop button, coming to a slow stop.
Jake came around the side to met you when you got off the treadmill. He offered you his hand for the small step down. It was surprising how soft his hand were despite the callous’.
“Let’s get headed to a room, I’ll explain more in there.” Jake said. His hand let go of yours, finding the small of your back as you headed to the room. He directed you into one of the ‘Bloom Rooms’.
The walls were covered in a soft pink color with forest green floral. One wall was an entire mirror, a rail for balance along the entire mirror. There were balance balls, cubes, wedges, a Bosu ball, and many other items along the wall. A nice dresser was along the same wall, a nice vase with flowers sat on top. You watched Jake close the door in the reflection of the mirror.
“So, how does this,” you motioned around the room, “work?”
“Well, I’ll direct you on what to do. Positions, reps, stretches, all the technical stuff.” Jake explained it so plainly, making you wonder if there was a catch.
“What do I do then? Besides listen and get fucked?”
“Oh no, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ to fuck you, you’re goin’ to fuck me.”
A smile was plastered on his face. Heat encapsulated your entire body, every nerve ending on fire from his words. No wonder he was a favorite, especially with this demeanor. You shifted your weight on your feet, crossing your arms before speaking.
“What’s the plan?”
“Well, today is going to be a leg day. You will be riding me in a squat-like position, working your glutes, quads, hamstrings, along with many other muscle groups. Since it’s your first workout here, I won’t make it too intense. But that’ll also depend on how much you can take.”
“How much I can take?” You asked in a surprised tone.
“Yes,” Jake brought a hand to the back of his neck, “everyone is different.” Jake stared at you for a moment, then clapped his hands together and took a few steps forward. “Let’s get started with some stretching.”
Jake strode over towards the wall with many items, retrieving some yoga mats, one for the both of you. You met in the middle of the room, taking the mat from him. You two laid your mats out, leaving a decent space in between them. You watched as Jake toed his shoes off, following suit before sitting on your mat.
“On your back, I’ll help you stretch.”
You nodded, laying on your back and watching Jake move towards you. His green eyes were raking over you, observing all of your movements. Jake had you prop your knees up. The soles of your feet were flat on the mat, Jake’s thumb hooked underneath your knees. His eyes were locked with yours, gaze not wavering.
“Let me know if anything is too much or not okay.”
You nodded.
Jake started to ease your knees towards your chest, folding you in half. You could feel the backs of your thighs and glutes being stretched. Jake’s body was impossibly close to yours already, his crotch was almost pressed to your ass. Heat was radiating from his body, covering yours entirely. Your knees were practically pressed into your chest, cheeks hot, his gaze making you burn.
“Is it okay if I open your legs up?” His grip on the back of your thighs was making it hard to focus.
“I- yeah, that’s okay.”
Jake nodded, hands adjusting to under your knees. His gently eased your legs out, keeping them bent at the knee. You brought a hand up to your mouth, pressing the back of it against your lips. It had become so sensual so quick. His crotch was now unbelievably close to your clothed cunt. All he would have to do is roll his hips and he would be pressing against you.
“I’m goin’ to move one leg up to stretch your calf,” he informed you.
You nodded, relaxing all the muscles in your legs. His right hand moved to the ankle of your left leg, extending it up inch by inch. You could feel all the muscles along the back of your leg stretch. He placed your ankle on his shoulder, keeping your leg propped up. The stretch felt euphoric along the back of your leg. An audible gasp escaped you, catching Jake’s attention.
“Feel good?” His voice had dropped a little this time.
“Yeah,” it almost came out as a whimper.
After a moment with one leg propped up, he switched to your other leg. A thin layer of sweat was already starting to form on you. It was hard to avoid with Jake being this close to you, practically folding you in half with his body. His firm muscles pressing onto your own, his weight barring down on you more and more. Not after long he released both legs, guiding them down on either side of him.
“Let’s get your back next,” he said while moving back to his own mat.
You sat up, following his movements. He got on his hands and knees, pushing his back out then letting it drop into an arch. You mimicked the movements, muscles in your back alternating between taut and loose.
“Nice, right?” Jake looked over at you, a smile on his lips.
“Yeah, never realized what all these motions stretched.” You added.
“Everything stretches something. You’d be surprised at what all sex stretches out,” his smile turned into a cheeky smirk.
“Well,” you hesitated for a moment, “I’m excited I get to find out.”
Jake showed you a few more stretches, legs primarily. Soon the two of you were sat across from each other. You were waiting patiently for what was next to come, a tinge of excitement running through you. Jake leaned back, palms flat on the floor keeping him up right. He had one leg casually stretched out, the other bent close to his body.
“We can start this two different ways. One, we start with a little bit of foreplay and massage work, or two, you take the lead and do whatever you want.”
“What do most people choose?”
Jake gave you this look, one that said ‘really?’. A shrug tugged on your shoulders, not sure why he gave you the look. He let out a noise that sounded like a chuckle mixed with a sigh.
“Are we really gonna play that game?” Jake’s look had a small amount of playful annoyance in his gaze.
“What?” Embarrassment started to creep into you, not sure about the next steps.
Jake’s words weren’t really comforting either. He was nice but there was this bite to him. A playful energy that was hard to read sometimes. You pulled both of your legs closer to you, soles of your feet planted on the floor. Again, you mimicked him.
As you were leaning back onto your palms, Jake was starting to move towards you. He got up on his knees, closing the small space between the two of your mats. It was like watching a cat play with its food. Inch by inch the gap between you closed. Your legs spread open, allowing room for him to move between them. He reached out to your jaw, cupping it while his thumb rubbed a part of your cheek. There was something playful in his green eyes. A smile covered his lips as he leaned in, lips next to your ear.
“This is about you, not anyone else,” the words were hot against your ear lobe.
Without a second thought you grabbed him, hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingers threading up through his well trimmed hair. Soft lips melded with yours, dancing in synchronicity. A smile formed on his lips as he kissed you, slowly working you down onto your mat. Hands roamed up and down your sides, snaking down to cup your ass. His chest was pressed to yours as his hips started to slowly rock against yours.
“Does this count as a massage?” It was cheeky, but you couldn’t help yourself.
���Full body if you ask me,” Jake nipped at your neck, trailing kisses down your skin.
He pulled back for a moment, hand moving from your ass to your chest. Even though your sports bra was tight, your nipples were starting to become visible through the material. A whimper left you as he started kneading your breast, thumb occasionally coming up to run over your nipple. You arched your back and relaxed, pressing your breast tightly into his hand. You heard a snicker come from Jake.
“What?”
“Most clients aren’t this pliant when they come in.” Jake said, tilting his head as a gesture towards your body.
A moan left you as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A smirk was plastered on his face now. You knew it wasn’t personal, but you took it personally. You hooked a leg around his waist, and put all your weight into it. A huff was all Jake let out as you flipped the two of you. You were straddling his hips now, ass pressing tightly to his crotch.
“That’s better,” Jake quipped, enjoying his view of you on top of him.
Slightly calloused hands traveled your sides, kneading your flesh every now and then. You kept rolling your hips down against his, sighing at the pressure. His dick had started to harden, becoming obvious as it pressed against your ass. As much as you wanted to just fuck, you had to remind yourself of the actual reason you were here.
“So, do I just ride you or..?” It was an honest question.
“Normally, we have a female client get off once prior to a penetrative workout. We like to make sure that they are ready to take whatever the trainer gives them.” Jake raised his eyebrows playfully at the last sentence.
Thumbs hooked into your leggings. You helped him take them off you, removing your underwear in the process too. Jake immediately noticed how wet you were, looking at the wet patch on your panties as he slipped them off you. Those calloused hands pulled you back into his lap, sitting up to meet you. Your hands gripped his shoulders, tugging at the fabric of his workout top. Fingers moved towards your cunt, finding your clit quickly.
It was obvious he did this regularly, knowing almost the exact motions to get you going. The sturdiness of his body kept you up right, his free arm wrapping around your back to keep you close. Wet kisses were littered all over your skin. The fabric of his shirt balled up in your fists. The hot breath on your skin was starting to be overstimulating. It was all so much at once. A hot trainer fingering your while leaving wet trails of saliva on your chest was not what you were completely expecting from today.
Jake changed the motion of his fingers in the slightest, making your body quiver into his. You weren’t sure exactly what he did different, but whatever it was made you feral. Your legs had started shaking, body slumping closer to his. You could feel the curve of his lips, that classic smirk appearing again. Within moments you were coming.
A whine was all you let out. You didn’t even pick up on Jake’s own heavy breathing. The arm around your back tightened, keeping you close to him. He bit back a groan as he felt you quiver against him, his fingers not stopping their motions on your clit. Your hands tugged at his shirt viciously, hips not being able to control themselves. Jake hadn’t expected you to have such an intoxicating effect on him. But he couldn’t get enough, deciding he was in fact going to fuck you himself.
“Jake!”
And with that his fingers were gone.
“Change of plans, I’m gonna fuck you.” Jake pressed a kiss to your cheek.
Jake laid your body down, sitting up for a moment to take his shirt off. You marveled at his body, reaching out to ghost your hand over his abs. He reached in his pocket and grabbed a condom. Your hand trailed down to the top of his shorts and boxers, helping him ease them down. He took them off, haphazardly tossing them somewhere off to the side.
Finally, all the puzzle pieces had snapped into place, showing you the complete picture of why he was one of the most sought after trainers. His cock was fucking gorgeous, just like the rest of him. His dick was already making your cunt yearn, wanting to feel the stretch it was going to give you. He tore the condom packet and rolled it down his length. Even though you knew it was what needed to be done, a part of you wished he could fuck you raw.
Jake’s hands grabbed your legs, placing your ankles on his shoulders, then slowly easing them out. His hands were lightly holding the outside of your thighs, holding them in a wide V shape. The head of his cock prodded your entrance, your cunt clenched with anticipation. A breathy moan left you when he pressed into you. The stretch was everything you were hoping it’d be, maybe even a little bit more.
“You feel better than I anticipated,” Jake’s words were breathy, chest rising and falling with each breath.
All you did was clench around him, watching as he closed his eyes tightly. You felt him pull out, only to push back in with a groan. A moan fell from you as he repeated the action. He found a decent rhythm, nailing into you while keeping your legs in the wide V. Your hands fumbled around your body, grabbing at your sports bra clad chest. The tight material bunched under your grasp. Your finger started to slip under the top of your sports bra, pulling it down to show your tits to Jake.
“Hold your legs still,” Jake commanded.
“Yes sir,” your words slurred with pleasure already.
Jake groaned at the name. His hands moved from your legs and up your body. Calloused hands removed yours then tugged on your sports bra. The material became tight against your skin, straps digging in until they started rolling off your shoulders. Your sports bra was holding your arms next to your body, leaving you restricted. Jake’s hands engulfed your tits as he fucked into you. You planted your hands next to your hips, pushing your tits out for Jake.
The backs and insides of your thighs were starting to burn. Jake’s thrusts were starting to make holding them up hard. Each thrust felt more powerful than the last. Once he found that sensitive spot inside of you, you whined. You tried to close your legs, both of them burning from the position you had held them in. Jake’s hands left your chest, grabbing your legs and forcing them back out into the wide V position.
“Legs out.” Jake commanded.
You hesitantly put your legs back out, holding them in place as they started to shake. With every thrust you felt a surge of pleasure. There was a burning that started to develop in your abdomen, a mixture of pleasure and tightness. You knew that a majority of the burning was because of the ‘workout’ aspect of this situation. Your legs were on fire, all while your nerves were starting to sear themselves with pleasure.
“That’s it, I know you can feel it,” Jake said, wide grin on his face.
One of his hands moved down between your legs, thumb circling your clit. Within the matter of seconds you were coming again, cunt clenched tightly around Jake. Your legs were starting to shake uncontrollably, your body becoming way too sensitive to the pleasure. Jake grabbed your legs quickly, wrapping them around his hips now as he fucked into you. He only lasted a few more thrusts before coming, filling the condom while inside of you.
Heavy breathing filled the room, both of you trying to catch your breath. Jake placed an forearm by your head, balancing himself as he looked at you. There was something soft in his eyes. He reached down and ran his thumb over your cheek. His thumb traveled further, down your neck and eventually his hand cascaded down your neck and chest. His hand stopped over your left tit. Your heart was hammering against your rib cage, Jake feeling it flutter in your chest.
Jake kissed your forehead as he pulled out. A moan leaving you at the sensation, now feeling empty inside. Your legs felt like jello, falling down from around his waist. Jake retracted from your body, stood up and moved towards the trash can in the room. You slowly and awkwardly pulled the straps of your bra up, adjusted them and sat up the best you could. Jake threw the condom away then headed back towards you.
“You good?” Jake asked.
“Yeah,” you grabbed your underwear and leggings.
The both of you got dressed before talking again.
“Sorry, about the change up for the session.” Jake slipped his shirt over his head.
“So, you’re telling me you don’t do that with all of your clients?” You joked, chuckling a little.
Jake smirked, shaking his head no.
“No, only the special clients get that treatment,” Jake held a hand out to you.
“Special? After our first session?” You accepted his hand, standing up with his assistance.
All Jake did was nod, not knowing exactly what to say. The two of you stared at each other for a moment. That soft look in his eyes had spread to the rest of his face. You gave him the same look, understanding that there was just now this unspoken thing between the two of you.
“There’s just something about you,” Jake finally said, “and I hope that the other trainers here get to experience it.”
A heat built up in you from the compliment. It was one of the most special compliments you had ever received.
“Until next time?” God, you were hoping there would be a next time.
Jake nodded with a smile.
“Until next time.”
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riaki · 5 months
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santa claus and his treats | satoru gojo x f!reader pt.1 of christmas event! wc: 3.4k oops i went overboard | cw: petnames, literally j pure fluff ur both STUPID in love, he’s the cutest! happy birthday pretty boy 🧸
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"'toru?" you called, voice filling the dimly lit room as you peeked your head in through the door. the curtains were drawn, the iridescent green tinsel dotted with soft yellow lights framing the doorway of your bedroom scratching your neck as you spotted the white-haired boy sitting on your shared bed, picking at something on his lower lip.
you took a moment to drink in the sight— his soft white hair that fell over dazzling sky-blue eyes, the color of the lake dotted with fragile crystalline snowflakes that melted into fresh spring streams that fed nature with new growth and fresh flower buds, a tangible warmth when his gaze fell on you and an easy smile stretched across his pink lips. a little too easy, you think. easy enough for you to miss the way he swipes a coffee brown crumb from his cheek; the smile has too much sugar and cream for you to buy it.
your eyes slowly drift from his charming grin to the rest of the room. there's a forest green tuft of leaves hanging from the ceiling on a thin golden string; you recognize the crimson red berries and waxed leaves with spots of pearl dotting as a bunch of mistletoe, hanging right over the mattress. clearly, he thought ahead.
you snuff the flush from your cheeks as he perks up at the sight of you, straightening his back. "hey, baby! you must be my present from santa this year," he laughs, holding his arms out, an invitation for you to crawl into his arms and curl up on his lap like two warm cats by the fireplace. you almost gave in— until you remembered why you were looking for him.
"you're getting coal this time, satoru." you said, huffing as you walked over to the mattress and put your hands on your hips, attempting to come off as intimidating in front of your boyfriend as you leaned over and stared down at him. he just giggled that sweet, boyish laughter of his, scooting closer and capturing you between two strong arms to tug you onto the bed with him. the sheets were soft, and they smelled like him as he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you like a life-sized plushie, all warmth and soft comfort that he craved so much.
"aww, really? but it's my birthday today," he sighed loudly, shaking his head as he firmly planted his hands on either side of your head to prevent you from worming away and planting a loud smooch on the top of your hair, before laughing as you pulled away from his grasp and gave him a glare. “besides, you’re anything but a bad gift.” he smiles.
“don’t sweet talk me, ‘toru. you’ve been naughty this year.” he wiggles his eyebrows at that, and you shoot him a sharp glare which just earns you a light scoff, but there’s a smile mirrored on both of your lips.
(maybe they’ve met so many times in the past that they know how to copy the other flawlessly.)
"but you're already here, my love. lookin' all pretty like the angel on top of our tree." he hums, crossing his legs and holding his ankles as he rocks back and forth; the teddy bear he won you from the arcade on your first date is face planted into the pillows by his side, donning a festive red santa hat. the white fluffy pom pom looks like satoru's hair, and you stifle a laugh at the thought.
"how kind of you, satoru." and you mean it— he looks like his own christmas angel; snowy hair and pretty blue eyes clad in a loose black tee with cheap printed red and green christmas lights over his chest. he looks unfairly attractive with those gray sweatpants on, too. you wouldn't mind wrapping him up in yellow ribbon and presenting him to your parents this year as your holiday present from santa, and then having your own fun with him later. you suppose you must've been perfectly good to land him; so pretty and fun, bubbling laughter that speaks of his care in volumes. and he’s their soon-to-be son-in-law, after all. and he’s a golden catch.
but it’s time for this white betta to be put in his place; he’s gone snooping where he shouldn’t have— or rather, scavenging would be the more appropriate choice. and he’s about to be skinned for entering the lion(fish)'s den. your matching red-green plaid pajama pants won't save him this time.
"sorry, baby, but you can't talk yourself out of this one." you said firmly, scooting closer to him as you sat back on your knees and gave him a look as pointed and narrow as the icicles melting on the frosted awnings. to anyone else, you might look like a wet, angry cat— but to satoru, it was enough to strike fear straight into the center of his heart. his fight-or-flight response kicked in (it only ever did with you)— and it was as if you could see the change in his demeanor. his eyes voluntarily softened, lids drooping as a lazy smile drifted over his lips like fluffy white clouds over a pale sun on a winter's morning.
"aww, don't be like that. my princess looks so much prettier when she's happy," he coos, all milk and honey as he reaches out and catches your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your pulse beating beneath your soft skin as he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. so he chooses to fight, and you almost fold— almost.
you twist your arm in his grasp, eliciting a whiny yelp of pain; getting him to let go of you as you quickly flick his forehead. even so, he lets you-- he never turns infinity on around you, even at the price of his own sanctity.
you sighed when he gave you a dramatic pout, sticking out his bottom lip as he hung his head low in defeat like a golden retriever being scolded by his owner, soft hair falling over his pretty blues. his hands come up to cradle his head, rubbing the spot where you'd knicked him. "don't play around, satoru. where are the cookies i baked last night?" you asked, reflecting his frown with a pointed glare. if looks could cut, he'd be a red christmas on the cloudlike sheets. you were tired of beating around the bush, especially when satoru had a knack for making it utterly exhausting. nevertheless, it went on.
"maybe santa came early," he quipped, giggling at his own joke. "you never know, huh? he's an unpredictable old geezer. likes his milk and cookies, or so i heard."
"didn't know santa claus had the six eyes." you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest and looking him square in the eyes. "and he shaved his beard off, apparently." he feigns hurt, holding a hand over his heart in mock anguish.
"i'm no thief! it hurts me to know you think of me so low, sweetheart." he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. outside, the snowy wind howls in agreement. "besides, it's my birthday. you're suffocating the spirit, honey." he drawls.
you just roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms and shifting to sit closer to him. you will your irritated expression to soften, and it's reflected in the way satoru immediately relaxes, shoulders sagging as the anxious look in his eyes vanishes like the wilting ghost of fall on a christmas eve, leaving behind the scent of bluebells and frost on the wind. he thinks you've forgiven him.
that's just what you need. for him to let his guard down so you can spring the trap on him. santa may be able to get away with his yearly trespassing, but satoru's entered the property of more than your heart this time, and it's time for his holiday retribution.
"give me your hand, satoru." you said softly, voice barely a breath above a whisper. he obliges almost immediately, scooting closer on the bed so that his knees graze against yours, and you hear him suck in a little breath at the contact as your hand finds his.
you take his palm in your own; his hands are considerably bigger than yours, but you still manage to run a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, gently massaging the soft skin over weary bones. a sweet little noise leaves his breathless lips; it's almost like a purr, and when you glance up at him he's almost as red as the glittering velvet bulbs dangling from the primmed branches of your christmas tree. he looks away, a subtle pout weighing down on his lips as he coughs loudly, as if the amber sap of a pine tree has caught in his throat, scratchy like tree bark.
"what are you doing?" he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, like someone took a fireplace stoker and poked his throat. almost a protest.
but you can feel him melting into you, and soon enough, he’s sandwiched you between his warmth and the fluffy blankets, the scent of apples and cinnamon weaved between the strands of his soft white hair as they tickle your flushed skin. his lips are soft and pliant and warm against your own; he's all over you, hands finding your wrists to trace tender, wobbly circles over your thrumming pulse with his thumb. he's robbing your lungs of air, needy in the way he cages you between his lanky limbs, lock and key with his free hand threading through your hair. he can never get enough of you, and he throws his inhibitions to the frostbitten wind if they mean learning to resist you.
it's spread around you like ripples on the surface of a misty lake, and when he draws away to stare down at you, eyes blown wide with a certain shine in his eye that reminds you of glowing embers, jumping from the lively blossom of fire on the grated dark metal of a hearth, there's a cheeky lopsided grin on his glossy lips. his fingers are slender, pale and callused, a gentle flushed at the tips.
"there was a mistletoe," he says breathlessly, as if that'll excuse him. as if he needs an excuse to kiss you. you just laugh, reaching up to trace his jaw with a finger, and he shudders despite the heater inside your room. the bunch of green leaves and red berries hanging above you sways in agreement.
but you can't focus on the dreamy look on his face; that lazy smile that dances over his lips and illuminates his features like twinkling christmas lights catching on each edge of a carefully cut snowflake, the sky's jewels. every time he looks at you as if you've crafted each intricacy of his world; patched the colors together and taught the light to reflect, you feel as though there are bubbles in your throat, and you have to cough them away when they're accompanied by a familiar rush of heat to your face.
it's all overpowered. strongly, by the rich taste of cinnamon. rich, sweet, distinctly festive, mixed with brown sugar and cookie batter; flour on the matching aprons satoru bought for the two of you, except the 'he' on 'he cooks' has been messily crossed out and replaced with a scribble that says 'she', and vice versa. it's on his tongue, his lips, the little dips on the corner of his mouth that makes him look like a kitten every time he grins. it tastes like wearing matching christmas sweaters, sampling sweet treats fresh out of the oven and laughing cheerily in your little cozy kitchen of warmth when he burns his tongue, a sour look on his face that wrinkles his nosebridge.
but, most importantly, it tastes like condemnation.
you sit up, briefly (and painfully) knocking foreheads with him when he's too slow to mirror your actions, but the complaint that's ready to stain the air like chimney soot dies on his tongue when he sees the look on your face. you look the same as you did the first time you found out he'd forgotten to pick up megumi and tsumiki from school. in other words, pissed.
"hey, pretty girl. you should smile; you look less like an ogre when you do—" he hastily starts, laughing nervously as he runs his hands through his messy hair. you've noticed that whenever you neglect to toy with the silky soft strands when you're tangled with him, whether it be kissing, cuddling, or... something else, he'll do it afterward as if to emulate the feeling of your fingers in his hair, even if it 'screws it up'. apparently, his skyscraper ego is too fragile to ask for headscratches.
"just a minute, satoru." you cut him off through gritted teeth, lips that should be stretched in a wide smile pressed together in frustration. your eyes narrow as you straighten up, sitting back on your ankles. "you ate them, didn't you?" your fingers dig into his skin, pinching his cheek. if his skin wasn't already stained crimson with boyish excitement, it would be an angry red now. you give killer pinches; he knows firsthand.
which is why he should've thought ahead and listened to the angel on his shoulder when you were knocked out earlier, curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, snoozing away. what was he to do? the cookies you'd made were calling his name. and it was for his birthday, and they were made for him. so why couldn't he indulge?
this was why.
and you know you've pinned him with your accusation like a throwing dart on a cork board; the way his gaze bounces around the room and his smile turns a hint sheepish and a handful guilty speaks volumes enough before he can even protest. but he can feel your wrath like an entire mine's worth of coal in his stockings, so he quickly throws his hands up, shimmying away from your angry pinch. the sheets bunch beneath him.
"listen, sweets, i just thought that— well, i'm sorry, baby, they just looked so good. and i only ate a few! i swear." satoru says solemnly, getting on his knees and throwing himself before you. he knows you're unamused— sitting there, crosslegged, looking down at him as if he's some chewed up gum you found on the bottom of your shoe. he might as well be. blueberry flavored, maybe? or mint, he's fine with that too—
"so you did." you just sigh, flicking his hunched shoulders, before you go soft again, and he sees pink. you reach forward, fingers creeping beneath his chin to tilt his face up. his skin is soft and warm beneath your skin, thrumming with a life and heat the poor overworked radiator in your room could never measure up to. and when he does look up, his starstruck gaze meets your own; you look ethereal in the warm light, and he wonders why he hasn't put a ring on your finger or started a family with you yet. maybe that can be the last gift to top off the cake of your overflowing knitted stocking, hanging from the kitchen counter; a mahogany box with golden hinges who's shine pales in comparison to the diamond ring in the center of the velvet.
he tucks the idea into his mental notes and grins, a cheeky flash of teeth. "so you forgive me, right?"
wrong. he should know better than to push his luck. especially when it comes to you.
the hand beneath his chin creeps up his face to squeeze his cheeks together, forcing his lips to pucker like a fish out of water as he tries to escape to no avail. you glare down at him, all needles. not at all in the holiday spirit, if you ask him. his face is squishy as a pillow beneath your fingers, and a smile resurfaces on your lips after a long struggle to keep it submerged.
he opens his mouth, no doubt to wail like a newborn, and you quickly withdraw, knowing better than to continue your assault. "geez! okay, fine. sorry. i ate them, you grinch." he grumbles, rubbing his squished cheek as he pouts and looks away, shrinking in on himself. his shirt is bundled beneath his arms, slipping off one of his shoulders to expose a pleasant flush on his neck. "seriously! you're such a killjoy. there's no fun in waiting," he smiles mischievously, wiggling his toes and nudging you with his foot. the fabric of his fuzzy reindeer socks bumps against your thigh, and you make another face at the red pom poms on the crudely-knit rudolph face.
"apologize." you emphasize each syllable, letting them fall off your tongue. they jut into his side like blows to his ribs; he falls back onto the bed for extra dramatics, letting it squeak beneath his weight.
"oh, the horror! to think that i'd be reduced to such a state—"
"satoru."
"—that i, head of the gojo clan, the honored one—”
"satoru gojo."
"should be forced to bow to such pious customs at the foot of scrooge—"
"gojo!"
you reach over to threateningly pinch him again, and he rolls away, tossing a fuzzy pillow into the air and kicking it at you like he's playing some cursed form of tennis. you scowl, catching the cushion and tossing it back at him. it lands square on his face, and he whines, crying about how you've ruined his beautiful, youthfully full, gorgeous face; how is he ever going to pretend to be santa and let pretty girls sit on his lap now? —and that one earns him another pinch to his arm.
"okay, okay! i'm sorry, my love. you're not the grinch, or scrooge, and i shouldn'tve eaten the cookies." he sighs, excruciatingly slow as he inches towards you again, wary of but wanting your warmth all the same. it's too cold to be alone this morning, anyway.
"without me." you corrected, unable to wipe the light grin from your face, and you watch as his face lights up, like a kid seeing his dream christmas present in the window display of a bright shop, hidden behind frosted glass and cold air.
he sits up again, scooting close and opening his arms once more. this time, you oblige, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping your arms around his neck. now he’s the one with his back flush against the mattress, soft as a cloud of cotton candy. he laughs, and it rumbles through his chest when his hands find the back of your head and he tucks your head beneath his chin, cradling your neck.
"without—" punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head, "you." satoru finishes, and you can hear the grin in his voice, cheery as a christmas carole. his arms snake around your waist, squeezing lightly as one hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt to gently rub your back. his fingers against your skin feels like the touch of a butterfly, wings like stained glass.
"how about this, pretty? we can make more together." he suggests, resting his chin on top of your head. you're smushed into his chest, the printed material of his christmas light t-shirt scratching your face, and the only thing you can manage to breathe is the cheap cologne you bought him (you don't understand why he uses it when he could afford the best of his own), but suddenly you can't bring yourself to mind. so you nod, and he chuckles.
"d'ya still wanna do cinnamon?" he asks softly, slipping his free hand into your hair to play with the strands, holding you close and cozy in his embrace. the burning heat of friction between your numb hands or a roaring fireplace don't compare to the warmth he brings you, soft and sweet and painfully human. and you can't really make yourself feel upset at the pretty boy with snow-white hair holding you anymore.
"nah. let's do peanut butter chocolate chip." you hum, muffled, and he laughs, hearty and full, the kind that makes his entire body tremble a little. and you can feel it, so you tilt your head up to peer up at him. there's a stray pine needle in his hair; must've been from your hazardously decorated christmas tree. he looks down at you and smiles, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaning in to kiss your forehead. it’s like a crimson wax stamp sealing his love letter to you.
he cuddles you close, tufts of his soft hair tickling your face like a tacky christmas sweater. "sounds unhealthy. but whatever you want, baby. santa's gonna give you all you ask this year." and this time, he doesn't use the mistletoe as an excuse to brush his lips against yours when you move to pick the pine needle from his hair. he smells like vanilla, swirled like espresso with a hint of cinnamon.
he may have enjoyed his cookies and milk without you, but there's nowhere else he’d rather be— no one else he'd rather share the rest of his time with, be it baking, decorating, or lazy naps in each other’s arms. after all, half the jolliness of the holiday season comes from being with you.
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fish analogies went crazy… happy bday gojo !!! my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !
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