#m.writes
Text
We Can Take Things Slow
Aki Hayakawa x Fem! Reader
Warnings: (minors dni) 18+ smut, virgin! reader, fluff, fingering, praise
Word Count: 5.1 K
Summary: What started as a crush has bloomed into a full-on relationship, and for the first time in your life, you're ready to do more than kiss.
Out of all people, you would have never thought that he would be your boyfriend; the first time he came in, you had to force yourself to stop staring. You had only worked at the local grocery store for about six months, and while you had seen attractive people come in to shop before, you had never seen a man as handsome as him.
He was tall — with blue eyes and black hair, the dark tresses often tied atop his head. His topknot hairstyle actually made your lips quirk up into a smile the first time you saw him. The ponytail was just so small and, for lack of a better word, cute.
He didn’t go to your register that day, and although slightly disappointed, you were glad. Just looking his way made your heart rate speed up. Who knows how you would have embarrassed yourself if you had to talk to him.
The next time you saw him, he walked in with — what you assumed to be — his friends, a guy and a girl who appeared to be rather rambunctious, one rolling in on a shopping cart while the other tossed boxes of snack cakes into it. Or maybe, they’re roommates; you thought as they walked past, watching them head down the aisle as you scanned a carton of milk. You wondered if he liked milk.
He didn’t go to your register that time either — well, he almost did, but he pivoted this shopping cart at the last second and headed a lane over, even though your current customer had just checked out. He must really like waiting in line.
And every time after that, he did the same, always with that boisterous duo; he never went to you. It was such a regular occurrence you no longer felt nervous when he came in.
But at least you still got to admire him. Sure, he might be avoiding you, but he was still pretty. Handsome, just like the first time you ever saw him. Plus, there was no harm in looking at him, right? A girl’s allowed to have a crush.
Then one evening, he came in alone. Dressed in a short-sleeved button-down, he spent most of his time in the produce section, picking out fruits and vegetables before disappearing between the aisles, where you didn’t see him again until he emerged at the check-out line — your check-out line.
Placing his groceries on the conveyor belt, you stood in disbelief, the nerves you thought you had long forgotten returning.
“Hello,” with a nod, the man greeted you, his eyes looking into yours as your cheeks grew warm.
“Hi! Did you find everything okay today?”
Overly peppy, you continued, tapping a button on the cash register before you began scanning his items, trying your best to appear calm.
“I did,” he said.
For a second, your eyes met as you glanced up at him, nodding in approval as you kept scanning.
The silence that followed was awkward. Well, it was for you, at least. Time seemed to slow while you worked, and halfway through, attempting to ease the feeling, you commented on his choice of milk — your face filling with a heavy heat as soon as the phrase left your lips.
“Mmm, oat milk,”
You’re not sure what response you were expecting, but all he did was exhale an amused huff and nod at you, taking out his wallet as he prepared to pay.
Great, he totally thinks you’re weird now, you thought. The next time he comes in, he’ll definitely go back to avoiding you.
Plus, surely he’s already got a girlfriend, right? Now that you’ve seen him up close, it’s proven just how attractive he is. Maybe next time he’ll come in with her. Maybe, you’ll even get to see them kiss.
But that never happened because he didn’t have a girlfriend. He either came in with his two friends or alone. And while he didn’t always go to your line, he frequented it more often. Over time, you even got less nervous when he appeared, and your interactions grew less stiff. You even learned his name — Aki. The two syllables felt like a dream leaving your lips. Along the line, you even found out about his profession. He was a devil hunter. Not uncommon, but dangerous. You’d known people who had joined Public Safety before, and although things didn't usually end well for them, you had to stop yourself from thinking of all the terrible possibilities this could mean. At least, this explained the formal clothing he sometimes wore.
Even your coworkers started noticing that things were different. Every time Aki came in, they’d tease you, asking things like, “So, when’s the wedding?” and “Have you hooked up yet?” Their questions were lighthearted, but you refused to answer — it was fun talking about the man you admired, but they didn’t need to know everything.
That is until, months later, after a series of secret rendezvous, one of them had seen you and Aki outside of work — at a table for two at a local restaurant, where he asked for a taste of your food, and you giggled, leaning in with a pair of chopsticks to fed him. But the light kiss that followed was what really caught their attention.
So the next day, your closest work buddies threw a lunchroom celebration, where despite their playful banter, they made sure to share how happy they were for you. Your oldest friend, who’s twice your age, even mentioned that she “Could tell he was a sweet one” and “Always knew he had a crush on you,”
Her words were the highlight of your day.
Sometimes you still can’t believe you're really with him. The two of you are similar in some ways. But in a lot of ways, you aren’t. Aki smokes, and you don’t — but that’s good, he tells you. Aki enjoys drinking beer, but you’ve never liked the taste. So you sip on water most of the time. But that’s great too, he says. In fact, he should be more like you, he insists. Aki has been in a relationship before. He’s had sex — shared his naked body with someone other than himself — And you haven’t. Not even close. All you’ve done is kiss. But you haven’t told him that.
And while you shouldn't feel shame for such a thing, you do. Like when you go to his apartment and spend the night eating cereal together, honey-flavored grains swimming in oat milk.
“Hey, let’s do the crossword puzzle on the back,” you say, dipping your spoon in for another bite.
If this were a different cereal box, the game on the back would probably already be done. However, lucky for you, Power and Denji — Aki’s roommates that you met sometime back at the grocery store — keep their hands off his boxes of “grandpa food,”
Grabbing a pen, Aki hands it to you, looking on as you begin to fill out the small square boxes, lifting a finger every so often so he can point out an answer. And when the puzzle is complete — and your bowls are empty, he washes them as you get ready for bed, changing into your pajamas to wait for him in the bedroom.
Being alone with him in here makes your heart race sometimes. Although the only thing the two of you have done in here is kiss, you can’t help but think of what will happen when you tell him that's all you've ever done.
It’s only happened once before, but one time things got heated. Clearly more experienced than you, Aki's kisses grew fervent, his lips moving against yours with ease. Like the love interest in a romance movie, he moved with such seduction, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip as his hands grazed the skin beneath your shirt. Your body grew hot, and for a second, you thought of letting him undress you, but instead, you gently pulled away — kissing one last time before you left to get a cup of water.
The memory makes you feel bad in a way. You should have just told him then, explained to Aki how you didn’t push him away because of what he did, but instead because you’re a nervous virgin. Or maybe you should tell him tonight — get it over with and…
“Did you already brush your teeth?”
But his question breaks you from the idea, and as you shake your head in response, you decide, maybe next time. Besides, brushing your teeth is more important anyway.
Four weeks later, you find yourself facing the decision again.
Your relationship with Aki has even reached a new milestone — you’ve said you love him. And with the faintest blush, Aki has said he loves you too.
In fact, he said it just moments ago before you kissed him — before you straddled him on his bed and began tasting his tongue. Slowly getting comfortable, you’ve started taking the lead with things like this now. It’s fun and exciting, yet, the idea of going further still makes you nervous.
It’s not like you don’t want to go further. You do, but you’re scared. Afraid that once you tell Aki, things won’t be the same, the flame will fizzle out, and he’ll leave you. Or even worse, he’ll use you for sex, and that’ll be the end of it — a cherry-popping dream come true.
“Hey, you okay?”
Caught on to how you’ve stopped and pulled away, he questions you, studying your expression as you refuse to make eye contact.
“Aki…” you mutter his name in quiet guilt, shifting about as you decide to rip off the proverbial band-aid, your heart pounding in your chest as you timidly confess, “I’m a virgin,”
“Huh?” caught off guard, his brows pull together as you remove yourself from his lap, your eyes growing glossy as panic sets in. If he laughs right now, then it’s over.
“I’ve never done anything, okay?” you hush, wiping away at your cheek.
You'll tell everyone at work that he's a jerk.
But Aki doesn't laugh. He doesn't chuckle; he doesn't even smirk. Instead, Aki thinks. He acknowledges your reactions — figures this information must have been weighing down on you for a while, and from what he can tell, you must be worried right now. And while to him, it’s no big deal, to you, it is. So in respect of your feelings, he does what he can to comfort you.
“That’s okay,” he gently speaks. “That doesn't change how I see you,” Hoping he’s not making things worse, he continues.
“Did you think it would?”
Peering up through dampened lashes, you nod. It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s true. Before you got into a relationship with Aki, your lack of sex was never an issue — other than the fact that you’ve never been with another person, you did plenty of sexual exploring on your own. You’ve done things that not even your friends in two-year relationships had done, knew kinks by name, and even told them what kind of toys to bring into the bedroom. You know your body, and you know what you like. You’ve just never had anyone to share it with. Being vulnerable in such a way can be scary. And while no, you don’t have to say anything about it, you feel it’s best that you do.
“That’s why I wanted to tell you…before things went any further. I just need you to know. So, we can take things slow, okay?”
Shifting closer, Aki nods before wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug, holding the back of your head as you press yourself against him, the scent of soap heavy on his skin.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” he whispers. “I don’t mind taking things slow,”
In his arms, you continue to listen, his acceptance putting you at ease.
“We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. Until you want to, alright?
In response, you nod, silently agreeing before you pull back, peering up at Aki as you wipe your eyes.
“What if I only ever want to hold hands?” you mumble.
“Then we’ll only hold hands...and I’ll still love you,” smiling down, he assures you.
Aki only wants to make you happy, and although he can’t guarantee he'll never make you sad or worried, he can promise to never make you uncomfortable.
—
“So, got any plans for the weekend?” your coworker asks from beside you, adjusting a can of corn as you reorganize the shelves before closing time.
“Actually, I do,” you say, the lilt in your voice soft as you continue working. “Aki and I are going to a new gyoza restaurant tonight. It just opened up,”
“Ooh, a date, I see? And will you be feeding him again this time?”
You give your friend the side eye, and they chuckle, the memory of when they first saw you together causing you to laugh along.
“And what if I do? Are you gonna be there watching like last time,”
“Hey, I just happened to be there,” your friend holds their hands up in defense. “It’s not my fault I caught you kissing mister topknot,” they tease. “Besides, I’ve got my own boyfriend to feed tonight,”
“Oh yeah, how is your cat, by the way?” Humored by your joke, you smile, peering over at your friend as they shake their head with a chortle. The end of your shift flies by when the two of you are together, and before you know it, the grocery store is closed for the night.
Once back home, you call Aki to let him know. Telling him that after you shower and get ready, you’ll call him back so he can pick you up.
“Alright, see you soon then. Love you,”
“Love you too, bye,” his voice carries over before hanging up, the end of the call leaving you eager to be with him again.
An hour later, he’s knocking on your door, standing outside your apartment with joy in his eyes when you open up to greet him — two overnight bags in hand.
“You ready to go?” he asks, silently admiring your features.
“Yup,” you smile as he takes your bags for you. “I’m so ready to eat too. I’ve been dreaming of this gyoza all day!”
Heading to the car, he chuckles at your enthusiasm. It sounds like tonight he won’t be getting any of your leftovers. Guess he’ll just have to order extra.
—
Four plates of fried dumplings later, the two of you have had your fill, and with the bill paid, you head back to Aki’s apartment.
“Denji and Power are out, by the way.” he mentions while unlocking the door, “But they’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, so enjoy it while you can,”
“Hey, don’t be mean,” you giggle, “I like them,”
“Yeah, yeah…”
With the place so quiet, you and Aki fall into what feels like a sense of domestic bliss — the tv on in the background providing a bit of sound as you go about helping him rid his fridge of spoiled food. It’s something he does every weekend lest he discovers a container of leftovers growing mold.
After that, he puts a load of laundry into the wash while you make a cup of tea — the last time you came over, he had a flavor you had never tried. You thought it was good, so Aki made sure to get more.
The two of you even brush your teeth together, which is nice because the minty fresh flavor of it remains once you’ve settled in bed — your upper half pressing against his as you kiss. Over and over, until the short pecks turn into your tongue running across his bottom lip, teasing him before he opens up and accepts, his hands sliding down to rest on your waistband as you pull back to catch your breath.
“Aki,” his eyes watch your kiss-swollen lips whisper his name. The warmth of your fingers resting against his jaw as he lifts his gaze.
“Yeah?”
Suddenly aware that you’re on top of him, he removes his hands from your hips — the subtle movement is a sign that he’s being cautious, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind.
“You know, I still want to take things slow,” your heart rate speeds up as he keeps his eyes on you. “And I don’t think I’m ready to go all the way yet, but,”
Now Aki’s heart is racing. He’s almost positive that he knows what you’re going to say, and he’d be lying if he said the thought of pleasing you in any way doesn't get his body aching with desire.
“Can we try something?”
Your face blooms at the question, a sense of embarrassment washing over you as your boyfriend remains silent for a second, lips parting before he places his hands back on you and nods.
“Anything you want,” he murmurs.
And while it’s difficult to ask your first real boyfriend to finger you, you do it. You probably sound like a total dork, you think, but Aki thinks you sound cute — delicate, endearing, but not the least bit innocent as you softly ask, “Will you fuck me with your fingers, please?”
The phrase sounds so vulgarly sweet; Aki has never wanted to satisfy someone's desires as much as he does yours. With your words repeating in his mind, he nods, keeping an eye on you as you move off him, settling beside him instead.
Shifting onto his side, Aki leans in to kiss you, interlocking your fingers with his as he pulls back to ask, “Are you sure about this?”
He knows you’re the one who brought it up, but he still feels the need to ask.
Your lips curve into a gentle smile as you shake your head in response, “I’m positive,” you assure him.
Aki nods once more, bringing your entwined hands up to his lips to kiss your knuckles, one by one, until he lets go and places his hand on your hip, stroking your soft skin as you peer up at him.
Caught on by his hesitance, you pull him in for a heated kiss, reassuring him even further of your request with the tracing of your tongue against his lips — the wet muscle flicking against his as you glide your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, breathing out a moan while his hand travels further down, dipping into the waistband of your shorts.
“Can I?” he mumbles, thumb tracing against the fabric.
Agreeing, you shift your hips beneath him, allowing his hand to go all the way in, your lips parting in a shaky breath as his digits slide across the front of your panties, stopping just above your clit.
You’re glad you wore such a thin pair tonight, the friction of the lacy material already feels so good, and with each light circle Aki presses against you, you can feel the fabric dampen, knowing that soon, his touch will feel even better.
As he teases you, Aki is sure to gauge your reactions. He pays attention to your movements, focusing on bringing you nothing but pleasure. And when your hips grow more fervent, when your legs spread open further, he experiments with a few words.
“Oh, you’re all nice and wet for me. Aren't you?”
His voice is so low it’s impossible to hold back the moan in your throat. No one has ever said such a thing to you. But Aki can tell you like it. The way your clit twitches is enough to indicate that.
“Will you let me see?” he asks.
You’ve never felt so needy before, eagerly nodding before he kisses your nose and leans away, settling on his knees so he can undress you. You haven't been this nervous in a while — but it's a giddy nervous, and each of Aki’s tender movements helps ease you. He’s slow, gentle, and careful of where he touches you as he kisses the swell of your knee, peering up at you while he glides his hands up your thighs. Everything he does is with your desire in mind.
The veins in his hands flex while he grabs your hips, testing the waters once more as his fingers hook onto the sides of your panties — waiting for your permission.
Aki’s hands have always been nice to you, and as you shake your head in approval, you get lost in the vision of them, admiring how they look in this intimate moment as he undresses you, his long fingers pulling down your shorts and underwear until your core is exposed.
Flustered, your knees pull together as you catch him staring, his blue eyes focused on your sex as he swallows, his lips parting while he softly speaks, “You’re absolutely perfect,”
Your breath hitches, and he kisses your thigh before adjusting himself, moving up the mattress until he’s lying beside you. This position will be more comfortable, he decides. He can please you without his gaze being too overbearing, and the closeness of your lips will make it easier to kiss as he touches you. He’s committed to making this experience a good one for you.
“Are you feeling alright?” he asks, gliding a hand across your stomach.
Nodding, you lift the hem of your shirt, muttering out a quiet “yeah” as you pull it up to reveal your tits, your nipples pebbling from both the cool air and Aki’s stare. He silently curses at how good you are at teasing, leaning in to kiss you as his calloused hand moves up to knead the soft mounds of flesh. The stimulation has you moaning, bucking your hips into the air as his thumb and forefinger pinch the sensitive skin — the slickness between your thighs increasing by the second.
“Mm, Aki,” you mutter his name between kisses, your eyes heavy-lidded as you place your hand on his, guiding it down until it rests on your pelvis.
“I know, I know,” he hushes, “I want to touch you too, just gotta make sure it feels good for you,” he kisses your cheek and then finally; lets his fingers begin to explore.
They brush past the strip of pubic hair you shaved this afternoon, slowly making their way towards your pussy lips, where his fingers dip in to gather your slick as you spread your legs for him. Having Aki touch you like this feels like heaven, and you can feel the strings of your essence separating as you open up for him. His digits circles around your entrance a few times before trailing back up, stopping mid-stroke while he gently speaks, “Oh, you’ve got the cutest little clit I've ever seen,”
The sensitive nub throbs as he makes contact with it, a whine spilling from your throat while he languidly rubs it, his fingers returning to your slit before it becomes too much — if he had kept it up, you would have come in an instant, which isn't bad, but you enjoy the build-up.
Wetting his digits some more, Aki teases your entrance, kissing just below your ear as he quietly instructs you, “Just relax for me, okay?”
Nodding your head, you take a deep breath, staring down as he continues playing with your pussy, rubbing your slick folds up and down before slowly sliding his middle finger into you. The sensation has both of you gasping. Aki because you’re so tight and warm, and you because his fingers are so much bigger than yours. They’re thicker and longer, and as the discomfort melts he begins to move.
He sinks his digit all the way in before almost pulling out, repeating the movement a few times over as your half-lidded eyes grow wide, a breathy moan falling from your lips as you adjust to the feeling.
“You okay?” your boyfriend mumbles.
“Mmhm, your fingers are just…bigger than mine,”
Endeared with the comparison, he huffs out a laugh, kissing your lips while he sinks into you once again, swallowing your mewls of pleasure as he curls his finger this time, pressing against the swelled tissue of your g-spot. It’s like discovering the area for the first time all over again, and your brows pull together as your hips buck against his hand, your legs spreading further as you grab at your tits.
“That feel good?” Aki’s voice remains low, the sticky clicks of your cunt mixing in with the sound while you earnestly nod.
“Yeah…” you whimper, slack-jawed as you whimper on.“Yeah…I want more,” you plead, your lust-filled gaze meeting his while you desperately shift your hips.
You may not know it. You may not even be trying, but through each passing second, through each soft phrase, Aki grows more and more captivated in pleasing you — and knowing that he’ll soon be the reason behind your erotic gratification; has him happy to oblige.
He pumps his middle finger into you a few more times before he pulls it out, tracing along your clenching little pussy while he eases it back into you, his ring finger joining in this time as you breathlessly curse. His digits are so much thicker than yours, longer too. You think this feels good when you do it yourself, but having Aki finger you feels even better. Unrestricted as to how far your wrist can twist, this new angle allows you to feel things deeper, granting you a new level of satisfaction you could never give yourself.
When he feels your walls relax again, Aki begins building the movement of his fingers, pumping the two digits at a steadying pace as he kisses you, trailing his lips down your neck and across your chest. Grazing your nipple, his tongue laps at the bud as he curves his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot. In search of repetition, your hips jolt into his touch, your cunt clamping down as Aki adjusts himself, “Gonna go a little faster now, alright?” he says, sliding his body further down for better reach. Slick with arousal, you’re taken aback by how easily he’s able to speed up his digits, your head thrown back in a heady groan as your pleasure elevates to another height, the sticky sounds of your cunt growing as Aki works his wrist, his palm brushing against your clit every so often.
Cute and high-pitched, your whines are intoxicating to him, swallowing them up between kisses while his fingers stroke your walls.
Your heavy lids make it difficult to keep your eyes open, but even in your lust-filled daze, you make it a priority to drop your chin and take a peek, to watch as your boyfriend fucks you with his fingers. So wet from your pussy, his hand glistens before you, your face flooding with warmth as you whimper his name, “Ah-Aki, Aki,”
You’re close; you can feel it — building up with every thrust of his fingers — with every graze of his heavy palm against your clit. Your skin is heating up, and your hips are jerking, grinding against him in search of more. Just a bit more of that pressure, and you’ll be falling past the edge.
Observant, Aki catches the way your swollen bud twitches and quickens his pace, rapidly pumping his fingers as you clench around him, the sloppy sound mixing in with your cries of ecstasy as he pushes all the way in, his palm grazing your clit as his fingers curl into the spot that has you keening. Repeating the motion, he watches your brows pull together as you shift your stare, meeting his gaze before he presses his forehead against yours. The fading mint of his breath fanning across your lips while he whispers, “You gonna cum for me?”
Your breath hitches as he pushes the heel of his hand towards you, the calloused skin rubbing against your sensitive nub while you press your knees together, trapping his hand in place while your brows crease, urgently nodding your head in admission.
“Yeah?” Aki gives his own little nod while continuing to work his fingers, hitting the spongy spot in the back of your cunt as you struggle to speak.
“Y-yes, yes fuck, please, ohh –” your words cut off into a drawn-out sob, your stomach clenching as you squeeze your thighs together, your body twitching while you dissolve into pleasure with Aki for the very first time — the reality of it all making your walls tighten around his digits even harder, soaking them in your essence as he works you through orgasm.
The sensation has Aki’s mouth falling open, feeling your pussy squeeze his fingers as you curve into his touch, keening through the incredible high while you melt into him. Your shattered breaths catch on the tip of his tongue as he kisses you, tangling his wet muscle with yours — swallowing the moans that escape you.
“Feels good, doesn't it?” Aki whispers against your lips as your clit throbs, his palm pushing down on the swollen nub, causing you to twitch in place while your climax begins to fade. As you relax, his fingers slow their pace, your body slumping into his as your heavy breaths grow steady, your half-lidded eyes catching sight of his digits pulling out of you.
You sigh as they leave you, your cunt squeezing around nothing as you hear your boyfriend mutter out a quiet “Fuck…” — Enamored with how you leak for him, how you’ve coated his thick digits in the creamy white of your pussy. How you’ve allowed him to share such an experience with you.
“You’re perfect, you know that?” he says as you lie back. The endearment has you lazily smiling, his lips pressing against the damp skin of your forehead.
“So perfect,” he repeats between kisses, tilting your chin to peck your lips.
A dreamy haze surrounds him as he stares down at you — your lower half still exposed as you peer into those beautiful cerulean eyes of his, thoughtlessly murmuring out loud, “So, do I have to give you a handjob now?”
The enchanting clouds dissipate as you realize what you've said, the apples of your cheeks growing warm as Aki's face goes blank — a tinge of regret traveling down your spine for even asking the question.
“Well, do you want to?” He calmly replies as you continue to look up at him, searching his gaze while you swallow the words caught in your throat. As much as you desire Aki — as much as you want to have him fall apart because of you; you’re not ready. At least, not tonight.
Prepared to see disappointment spread across his features, you silently shake your head, declining with a nodded no. But to your relief, Aki responds with an affirming smile.
“Then no, you don’t have to,” he says, “We can save that for some other time,”
“Are you sure?”
Kissing the top of your head, he nods, pulling back to assure you once again, “I’m positive,” he replies.
Not until you're ready.
— please do not modify or repost my work
・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
A/N: Aki is so boyfriend :') he's got such nice hands too
Heheh, thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, let me know! Kind comments are always appreciated ♡♡♡
・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
#aki hayakawa x reader#chainsaw man x reader#csm x reader#hayakawa aki x reader#aki hayakawa smut#csm smut#aki x reader#☁️csm#💗aki#🌹spicy stuff#m.writes#mp
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Catharsis | Adrian Chase
this fic is race/ hair type/ body type neutral; why does that matter? If you feel I’ve overlooked something in regard to this, no matter how “small”, please let me know!
@stealsteels threatened to BEAT ME UP (real) if I didn't post this so I'm doing it.
(…in all seriousness, thank you for all of your encouragement, it truly means the world ♡)
word count | 5.1k (woof)
warnings/ notes | 18+, fluff/ smut; fingering, spanking, vibrators, kink exploration/ discovery, trusting and communicating with your partner (hot), service top Adrian, masochistic reader/ sadistic Adrian if you squint.
as noted, this contains spanking. It is of course fully consensual, something reader explicitly asks for and (most importantly) NOT a punishment, but I realize it still isn’t everyone's thing, so please be mindful.
also this is incredibly self indulgent and tbh maybe a little out of character, and turned out a lot fluffier and domestic that I intended.
ao3
minors/ ageless blogs please respect my wishes and do not interact with my work/ blog. I will block you :)
You hear him before you see him. A double shift at Fennel Fields followed by hours of shooting a bunch of appliances in the woods with Chris and he still careens into your apartment with all the intensity and finesse of a hurricane. The endless amount of energy he seemed to have was sometimes baffling, and while it was usually fun to have your own personal Energizer bunny around (especially in bed), sometimes you really envied it.
You especially envy it on days like today when you felt like you could barely drag yourself through a comparatively low stakes and low effort day.
That feeling doesn’t last long though, because as soon as he toes his shoes off (a task that takes significantly longer than it should because he refuses to untie his laces, insisting that it’s faster even though it clearly isn’t) and rounds the corner into the kitchen, he shoots you his signature smile and you instantly feel that warmth you only seem to feel around him.
Shoes successfully removed, he ambles over to where you stand in front of the stove, fanning yourself as you lower the heat of the burner. Strong arms instinctively find their way around your waist and he nuzzles into your side, dropping tiny kisses to your cheek. Said kisses are, of course, mostly a means of distraction so that he can reach around you to grab the spoon you'd been stirring with and stick the entire thing in his mouth, but it’s still cute enough to earn him a few kisses in return.
You return to stirring (with a new spoon), humming your replies as he launches into his recap of the day’s events. The recaps are rarely linear (sometimes they're not even coherent), so by now you’re used to the way he flip flops between how crazy the recoil from Chris' Desert Eagle was (“I mean yeah okay, I shot it without his permission, but holy shit babe that thing is crazy! Maybe I should get one. I mean when you think about it it’s actually kind of weird that we don’t have matching guns. Do you think he would think that was weird? If I got the same gun as him?”), to how he’d broken a guy's kneecaps after he'd caught him pushing his girlfriend into a wall in a dark alley, to how some other guy had actually proposed at Fennel Fields (“but don’t worry babe, when I propose it’ll be somewhere way nicer. Like at least Olive Garden or better.”)
The last bit earns him an eye roll and a nudge to the ribs, but you still can’t help the grin that pulls at your lips.
With dinner done, he finally disentangles himself from you to grab the plates and silverware and plops down in front of the tv. Tonight you’re finishing up the latest season of Barry (a show he finds hilarious, more for the gore than the actual comedy), but the second you take your seat next to him his arms immediately find their way around your middle.
“You know you can’t eat if you’re holding me, right?” you question, arching an eyebrow at him.
Undeterred, he pulls you even tighter, insisting that he “totally can though!”
“I’ve mastered the art. See, look,” He demonstrates said “mastery” by pulling you into his chest and bringing his plate around so that it sits on his open palm in front of you. He grins down at you, hopeful you’ll just ignore the high likelihood of pasta sauce spilling down your front with one wrong move. You pat his cheek and shake your head no, moving to separate your bodies. He pouts, truly pouts at you and once again find yourself unable to hide your smile.
“Okay okay, what about if you lay down on my chest and I put my plate on your back?”
“Then how would I eat?”
He ponders this for a second until you see another lightbulb go off.
“Okay, what about you sit in my lap and hold your plate and I-”
“I swear, if you suggest putting your plate on my head...”
“You didn’t let me finish!”
Another skeptical look before you sigh and motion for him to finish.
“...But yes I was going to say that.”
The way he seems to so desperately want this to work is perhaps a little annoying, but mostly very cute and endearing. Another eye roll makes it clear that his request is out of the question, and he’ll, for the time being, have to settle for eating like a normal person.
You turn your attention back to the screen just in time to see a guy's brains splatter as he gets shot in the head point blank. Despite the fact that you know about Adrian’s propensity for violence, it still gets to you and you wince. He pulls you tightly into his side, rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder and you settle into his touch, muttering your thanks into his sweatshirt and pressing a grateful peck to his chin. You sigh contentedly and press your face into his side and your eyes drift closed as you inhale his scent.
A bark of laughter jolts you awake. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but sure enough when you look up the credits are rolling. You yawn and stretch, craning your neck to look up at him and he seems to immediately sense your stare. He smiles that smile, the one that’s sweet like his normal one but also not, doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he’s thinking about something not so sweet, and the proof of what he exactly he's thinking is now pressing up against you. You turn to face him fully, taking in his lopsided smile and the slight splotchy blush creeping over his neck and plant a small teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Obviously this isn’t enough for him, and he leans over to gently grab the back of your neck and pulls you to him. The kiss is… kind of a lot, to be honest, but most things with Adrian are. Overeager as always he wastes no time licking along the seam of your mouth, asking for entry. You don't oblige him, not yet, opting to tease him instead as you nip his bottom lip.
You hug him closer, feeling the muscles in his back flex under your touch as he tilts your head to the side to suck at the skin of your neck. You move to straddle him but he's already getting impatient and makes a frustrated sound as he grips your thighs and pulls you the rest of the way into his lap. With you seated fully on top of him, he moves one hand to your hip to hold you solidly in place while the other snakes up under your shirt. Adrian is rarely smooth and tonight is no exception. His hands move over you as if he's unsure where to go or where to stop, touching you like it's the first time. They ghost over your stomach and up between your breasts before finally settling on your ass in a nice firm hold.
He finally frees your neck, laving sloppy kisses over your tender skin before pulling away completely. The momentary loss of contact is enough for you to come back to your senses and you push lightly against his chest.
“Hi.” Hi? You scoff at yourself. Great start.
You have no idea why you’re feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden, especially when he's looking at you like that.
The way he noticeably focuses when you have something to say, absorbing your every word is endearing but sometimes it also feels so intense. Especially now, when he’s sitting here, half hard underneath you, eyes growing wide and curious under his large frames.
You gather yourself and clear your throat.
“I uh, I actually wanted to talk about something. To ask you something, actually. I mean, we obviously don’t have to do it tonight, or do anything tonight. I mean I know you’ve had a really long day so I don’t want you to feel obligated to do it tonight, or at all even, if you don't want to. I don’t even know if it’s something you’d be interested in so, no pressure, obviously.”
You’re way too aware of the fact that you’re rambling, which is typically more of an Adrian thing than a you thing, but despite (or maybe because of) your awareness, you can’t seem to stop. The words just keep tumbling out, and now you’re getting flustered and a little bit annoyed with yourself, in large part because it's Adrian for Christ's sake. He's never judged you for your desires and you know it's not in his nature. Even now he just sits there, ignoring his own arousal, patiently waiting for you to get the words out, tracing comforting (albeit distracting) shapes against the tops of your thighs. In spite of all this you still struggle with simply just saying what you want– what you need. You take another breath.
"I want…"
You had what felt like the most supportive partner in the world, so why did this feel so fucking hard?
He nods, squeezing your sides, encouraging you to continue. “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I'll give it to you.”
"I, uh, I want you to spank me." You hold your breath, gauging his reaction carefully.
He immediately perks up at this and just like that, you’re at ease again. Not even a hint of the hesitation or confusion (or even worse, judgment or disgust) you’d dealt with the few times you’d brought it up with previous partners. Not even the well meaning (but kind of annoying) "I don't want to hurt you" you'd come to expect. Then again, this is Adrian, your Adrian, and now you’re wondering why you were even worried in the first place.
Then again, it wasn't like this was exactly a shocking revelation. Adrian already knew you liked some pain and he’d been more than happy to give you the occasional playful spank before, in and out of the bedroom. Even though what you're asking for now was much different, his reaction is a huge relief.
For his part, he sits there, fucking beaming at you. His eyes drift to your lips again, tongue sneaking out to lick his own as he leans in to nip at you this time. For a moment he lingers, like he can’t decide whether he wants to kiss you or move back down to your neck. He goes with the former, pulling you into a searing kiss. You don’t consider yourself the type to get easily flustered, but fuck if he isn’t literally taking your breath away right now. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, payback for earlier, and you gasp. His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck again, squeezing just the tiniest bit. You know he's barely using any of his strength and that knowledge makes you shudder.
“So, how do you want to do this?”
You laugh, “I um…” To be honest, you kind of hadn’t really put much thought into logistics and the kiss wasn't making it any easier to think.
You don’t have to flounder for too long though, because now that you’ve put the idea into his head, he’s running with it.
“Want me to bend you over the couch?”
Another thing most people don’t know about Adrian, and you’re thankful for this, is how… focused he can be. Especially when properly motivated.
“Or I could put you over my lap. Get you nice and relaxed and just… help get all the tension out. Would you like that? Hm?” Hia hands have drifted back to your ass and he pinches it now to emphasize his point, making you yelp.
You can tell how excited he’s getting both by the way he continues to ramble and by the way he’s started to absentmindedly rut up against you. You don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it because he’s still talking, seemingly completely unaware.
“Maybe we should get a paddle. I’d love to see your ass jiggle when I hit it with a paddle. Fuck, do you have one? Should we get one right now? Or a riding crop. Or- what are those things with all the tassels?”
“Adrian, do you really want to buy a flogger right now? Or do you want to take me to bed?"
“Right, right.” Without warning, he stands and you do your best to cling to him as he makes his way to your bedroom. From this position it’s harder to grind against him, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. You press your lips against the long column of his throat, moving up from his Adam’s apple to kiss behind his ear. You move back down and up again, repeating the action on the other side. He groans, deep and guttural and filthy, and you think it’s the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard.
“Stopstopstop, you’re distracting me!” He huffs, cutely, like he really has the audacity to be annoyed right now.
You grin into his neck, unable to stop yourself from softly nibbling his ear.
He places you down on the bed, crawling over you to kiss down your neck and you arch into him, hands sliding down his chest, toned muscles apparent despite the thick material of his sweatshirt, before reaching his waistband. You move to tug them down, desperate to feel him in your hands but he quickly grabs both your wrists and holds them above your head. He pulls back to look at you, smiling a very different smile now.
You try in vain to tug your wrists free, whining for him to let you go so you can touch him, but the look he fixes you with is enough to shut you up. Slowly, slowly he trails his free hand down your chest and slips it into your shorts, rubbing you over your panties.
You moan, clamping your thighs around his hand and grinding yourself into his touch, growing more and more desperate by the second. When he finally he relents and releases your hands you're panting, but you waste no time wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your hands in his curls as he returns to your neck, kisses turning to bites.
He rucks your shirt all the way up and you lift so he can finish tugging it over your arms. You shiver, fully exposed to him now and he bends down to take one nipple in his mouth, alternating between gentle bites and sucks while circling the other with his thumb and you sigh dreamily, pushing up into his touch.
Your hand drifts back to the nape of his neck, absently dragging your nails up and down the back of his scalp, dark curls running through your fingers and he groans against your skin. You move for his pants again but he bites your nipple that much harder; a clear warning.
He releases your nipple and you think he's switching to the other one but he instead fixes you with another stern look. His voice is lower this time when he speaks.
“Are you gonna behave, or do I need to tie you up?”
You can’t help the shiver that runs through you, or the whimper that escapes your lips at his words.
As enticing as the offer is, you’re starting to get antsy. You nod your head and mutter your assent and he smirks, seemingly satisfied with your answer.
The look he gives you this time is much softer but it still makes your blood run hot, makes you feel like the electricity in your nerves is sparking just under your skin. You turn your head to the side and without missing a beat he grabs your chin lightly, guiding your gaze back to him.
Heat rushes up your neck to your cheeks, but you make yourself hold his gaze. His pupils are almost completely blown black now, cheeks ruddy and lips set in a firm line.
"I care about making you feel good.” The sincerity in his voice floods you with warmth.
“Are you gonna let me?”
You whimper, wishing he’d just go back to kissing you, but you know the question isn’t rhetorical.
“Yes, yes, please Adrian just- please”, you pant, stretching up, wordlessly begging him to kiss you again, to do something, but he doesn't relent. He just holds your gaze while you pout and squirm under him.
“Now, tell me what you want.”
You peer up at him, uncertain of what he means. “I told you, I want you-”
“No, tell me exactly what you want. Be specific. Do you… do you want me to punish you?” His voice quiets a bit at the end.
“No! No, I don’t. I don’t want it to be a punishment. I-I don’t know. I just… I do want it to hurt but... I more just want to not think, just for a while. Sorry, that’s not what you asked but-”
“No, no that’s good. That’s good.”
He finally lets go of your wrists and kneads the muscles in your shoulders. The warmth and pressure from his hands soothes your nerves and you sigh and smile up at him.
“Alright, get over my lap then.”
You scramble to obey, already dizzy with anticipation. You feel giddy with it, and despite your nerves you couldn't deny how badly you wanted this– wanted to feel his hands on you, wanted him to make you feel release only the way he could.
You splay yourself over his spread legs, head resting on the pillow you’d grabbed. Now that you’re unable to see what he’s doing, your mind starts to race. Your pulse quickens, and you start to get that familiar floaty feeling you get whenever he takes control and you get to let go.
He puts one hand on the small of your back and with the other he finally, mercifully, tugs at your waistband. You can feel just how hard he's gotten now as he presses into your hip, but he doesn’t move. Adrian isn't much for teasing but he makes no move to touch you, so you wiggle your hips in the hope that it’ll get him to do… something. He presses firmly on your lower back and you huff, but still yourself anyway. He slowly smooths over the muscles in your lower back, pressing deeper and deeper until you relax into his touch.
He moves lower, gripping the meat of your ass, kneading it softly, and you’re not sure if the gentle touches are genuine or if he’s trying to get you to let your guard down before he starts.
He unceremoniously spreads your legs, dipping his hand between your thighs before ghosting his fingers over your lips. He moves to circle your clit over your underwear and you moan into the pillow, bucking your hips back into his hand, searching for more of whatever he’s willing to give you.
You should’ve known better again, because as soon as you do, his hand comes down squarely against your ass. The pain isn’t so bad, but the sound is enough to make you jump.
"Oh." he says quietly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I see."
You're not sure exactly what he means by this but you don't have time to think about it too hard before he brings his hand down again, this time on the other cheek. He stops briefly and you move to turn and ask if that's all he intends to do, but you feel another stinging slap before you get the chance.
“You said you wanted it to hurt, right?” You mumble a "yes", high and breathy, into the pillow that’s smushed against your face.
"Then ask me nicely."
Fuck.
"Adrian, please, please, fucking- just - harder please."
The pace he sets now is unrelenting. You pretty quickly become aware of the fact that he's making sure there's no pattern for you to predict and the thought makes you even giddier.
One smack, and then another, the stinging pain hovering just on the edge of too much, dulling all of your other senses. You start to get that familiar hazy feeling, and you relax into it, welcome it, will it to take you over completely.
Left, left, left, right, left again, one sharp, followed by a few open handed ones to your thigh in quick succession. All the while he's rubbing small, tight circles against your clit with his other hand.
His fingers move to tease your entrance, rubbing small circles into you and like the slaps he's doling out they seem to have no predictable rhythm.
"I think… this is really unlocking something in me," he mutters, more to himself than to you.
You’d been so focused on what he was doing that you only now realize how embarrassingly loud your moans had been, but his comment draws something out of you. You’re whining and writhing against him, not even trying to look dignified at this point, the sensation verging on overwhelming but so so good.
Suddenly it’s gone, and you whine in protest. For a moment everything is still, and you realize for the first time how quickly your heart is beating.
“Still okay?”
You don’t think you can form words right now, but you groan an affirmative, hoping it gets your message across. Adrian gently tilts your chin so he can look into your eyes and confirm. “Yes?” he questions, and your heart warms at the way he asks, at the way he always wants to be certain. The way he's biting his lip also tells you you’re not the only one who's enjoying this.
You exhale sharply, forcing your brain and mouth to actually form words, making sure your "yes" is clear. He nods once in return and releases your chin, and you sigh as you sink into the pillow again. Once you're comfortable, he starts again.
"Good girl. Keep being good for me.”
The sharp stinging pain and the dull thudding of his open palm are starting to run together, all becoming one sensation. He grips the fat of your ass again with one hand, releases it and brings the other hand down. He repeats this a few more times; squeezing, releasing and then bringing his hand down quickly before the blood has the chance to rush back under your skin, gauging your reactions each time, cataloging every whimper, moan and twitch, every shudder, flinch and squeal and rewarding each in kind.
“You like that? You like it when I hurt you like this? You like my fingers rubbing your pretty little clit like this?”
With this he runs his fingers back through the slick between your legs, teasing a finger against your opening.
"Jesus, fuck, look at you. Is this all for me? Yeah? Answer me." You can’t help but whine at that, telling him "Yes, yes it's all for you, all for you Adrian!" hiccuping and helpless to do anything but feel him.
He continues, “I think I know what you want, but you know you have to use your words,” he chides. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, yes! Pleasepleaseplease” You’re nearly sobbing now, tears you hadn't even noticed before falling freely now.
“I think I have something you’ll like even better,” he says, and your heart leaps at the thought of what he could possibly have in mind. You move to turn to him, but a firm hand on your back keep you in place.
He draws his hand back and you brace yourself for the inevitable impact, but it doesn't come. You huff, knowing full well he's absolutely got the shittiest grin on his face but you refuse to turn around this time, refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing your annoyance. So the two of you just sit there, momentarily suspended, at the world’s tensest, horniest impasse. You, over his lap, your panties hanging off of your ankle, and him, with presumably one hand raised in the air and one tracing faint shapes into the skin of your inner thighs.
"You," he starts, taking a deliberate breathe like he's trying to compose himself, trying to stave off the arousal he's thus far been able to keep at bay. He’s still got his pants on, and the combination of that and you writhing and moaning on top of him is starting to become unbearable.
"You have no fucking idea what you do to me."
He sounds dangerous now, voice too measured and now the tension is really starting to get to you.
He’s moving on the bed, doing his best to not jostle you too much but you can still feel his hips and cock shift under you as he reaches over to the drawer on your side of the bed.
You hear him rifling through it, various objects clattering as he tosses them around. You use this time to ground yourself, taking a few deep breaths but they do little to stop the way your blood is still rushing under your skin. You have an idea of what he’s looking for, but you don’t dare turn around to confirm your suspicions.
Finally, the rustling stops and he chuckles triumphantly.
He’s quiet again. Suspiciously, unnervingly quiet. Adrian is so rarely quiet that when he is it's noticeable. He’s still lazily running his fingers between your thighs, purposefully avoiding your clit this time, despite the insistent roll of your hips. Like he’s got all the time in the fucking world.
You hear the telltale buzz of the Magic Wand behind you, but he doesn’t give you time to register it before he pushes the head right up against your clit. You cry out, the sensation immediately far too intense, but despite your struggle he continues to firmly hold you in place. You whine pathetically, the pressure and vibration too much too soon, and he eases up just a little so the vibrations are still strong, but not so overwhelming.
You keep squirming, you can’t help it, and he moves the toy from your clit. This time you chase it, now desperate for stimulation and he chuckles above you and spanks your ass again.
“Fuck!” You cry out, burying your face into the pillow again. You know how you probably look, completely fucked out, tears splilling freely from your eyes now as you sob ugly and way too loud sobs, but you can't think about that right now. You were close, so so close. You just needed that extra little push.
“You’re doing so well baby. Can you take a few more?” and he asks so sweetly you can't even think about saying no.
Adrian returns to rubbing the small of your back, his voice a little softer now. He knows the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, and he always knows how to get you over the edge.
You gasped an “uh-huh”, arching into his touch and this time he allows it and repositions the toy directly against your clit again. Despite his softer tone, his hand comes down again just as hard and unrelenting as before and you’re honestly glad he isn’t going softer now that he knows you’re close.
He turns the vibration up a little more and the extra stimulation is exactly what you need. You feel your body seize momentarily as you clench and shake and for a split second everything feels still before your orgasm crests and breaks over you.
You hold onto that feeling for as long as you can, letting the wave break and settle and feeling your brain go blissfully hazy.
You feel floaty, your body feeling absolutely spent, wrung out completely and everything in that moment feels so perfect.
Adrian slowly ghost gentle touches over your back and down over your ass and thighs. You feel something cool and sigh contentedly as he rubs lotion into your stinging flesh.
You work to steady your breathing, reveling in the feeling of his gentle touch and the sweet praises he mumbles.
He knows you sometimes get a little dizzy and fucked out after you cum, (loves it, really) so he waits for you to gather yourself. Once he finishes you roll onto your stomach.
You wouldn't blame him for being self satisfied or even cocky in this moment, but the smile he wears now is anything but. It's just warm and sweet, like him.
He grabs one of the small hand towels you keep in the bedside drawers and gently wipes you down, knowing how much you hate the feeling of sweat on your skin after and helps you pull a fresh pair of underwear and one of his oversized shirts on as you settle into his lap.
“Was it.. was it good for you? Was it too hard?” You hear the little bit of worry start to creep into his voice and you’re quick to reassure him.
“No, no not at all. It was perfect Adj. You know I would’ve stopped you if something was wrong.”
He visibly relaxes at this, and resumes running his fingers over your tender flesh, humming softly.
It’s quiet, and for a while the only sound you’re aware of is your breathing. When he speaks again, it’s like he’s already in the middle of a thought.
“But seriously. Whatever you need, you know I’m happy to do it for you. And you know how much I love taking care of you. I just always want to make sure I make you feel good, you know?”
You smile at his confession. “Yeah, I know. And thank you. Seriously."
You clear your throat. “It's just nice to have someone who cares, you know?”
He hums thoughtfully, still rubbing your skin gently.
"I know you care about me as a person, and I'm not saying you're the only one who does. I meant more, it's nice to have someone who cares about making me feel good. Not to say that other people were just using me for sex but… with you it's just,” you go quiet again. “It’s just different."
“So thank you. For… this. For not being weirded out by it, I mean. And for doing it, of course.”
You sit up so you can look him in the eye now and he pulls you into him fully, arms tight and secure. The last thing you're aware of before you drift off this time is his scent as he kisses your temple.
#adrian#adrian chase x reader#adrian chase x you#adrian chase smut#adrian chase fic#adrian chase imagine#vigilante smut#Vigilante#vigilante x reader#vigilante x you#m.txt#fics#writing#m.writing#adrian chase x black!reader#anyway if you saw me delete and repost this no you didn't#adrian chase
594 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Alhaitham headcanon lol
I don't think anyone believes Alhaitham can fall in love. He's just so very...not normal. He is personally motivated, he doesn't seem motivated by emotions, he has his own logic, etc.
Plus he comes across as aloof at best, arrogant at worst. He is fairly blunt, he doesn't spare feelings, and he enjoys being the odd one out.
All in all, he doesn't seem like the type to keep relationships or really care.
And he does a good job of leaning into this image. If that's how he's seen, it's whatever. He knows how to outmaneuver his way in most situations.
But he's at a loss when he's developing feelings. At first he denies it. Biology is strange, hormones probably, love doesn't really exist, at least not for him.
Then he gets past that, slightly. He finds himself listening to you. It doesn't matter what it is, but he's listening. And he's got less bite to you, at least when you're alone together. Sure, he's a bit condescending, especially to others, but with you, he doesn't try to explain or anything. He lets you speak and think for yourself, adding on when he feels like it.
And then he's finding himself wanting to be around you more and more. It doesn't matter to him about other duties, he gets stuff done. But he'd much rather do them with you.
Intimate encounters were just ways of relieving stress for him. He knows he's attractive, he's never had trouble finding interested partners, at least for a night. But he actually cares about you and your needs. At least, in his own way.
Alhaitham in love is different. He's just so stunned by you. He'll find everything about you fascinating. He may not care about the gods, but he thinks you're made by them. So perfect and yet so human.
#genshin impact headcanons#alhaitham#alhaitham headcanons#alhaitham fluff#~) m.writes (~#~) m.headcanons (~#don't come for me if you think this is wronf#wrong*#idc#i needed soft
178 notes
·
View notes
Note
What's your writing process like?
You seem so calculated!
Any tips? ^^
my friend… I seem to have tricked you all. I’ve gotten a lot of asks for advice lately and I assure you I’m not the organised guy u think I am 😭 but I’ll start to put any asks about it under #m.writing.
I give poor advice because honestly I don’t think too hard about stuff when I write. but I can’t just tell you ‘just write’ lol so here’s some helpful posts:
the writing process
small ways to improve
how to pace well
#asks#m.writing#the most vital bit of the writing process for me personally is the actual pre writing stage rather than actually sitting to type up the fic
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Its strange
To cry so hard for someone ive never known
But your laugh brings me comfort
From this dusty archive where it stays
Forever held, immortalized
In a way you cannot be
I think i grieve what will never be
The things you wished to accomplish
The things your friends have achieved
That you will never see it
I grieve the yawning void that grows
Between now and your last upload
Your last message
The last time we heard your voice
I did not think i could love someone
Who ive never known
But maybe that is what this feeling is
Love, with nowhere to go.
But you know what they say,
Technoblade never dies.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞.
notes: howdy guys, it's been a while. i've been taking a break and finally starting writing again, yay. it's been a rough few months and still treading through it, but i hope you enjoy a piece of my heart with this one.
if it's any consolation, my heart broke while writing this. </3
pairing — boxer!steve rogers x fem!reader
concept — steve has to come with terms of you not wanting him just as much as he wants you.
wc — 6.7k+ [yeah...]
warnings: 18+, themes alluding to sex, emotional cheating, soft!steve, heartbreak, kind of unrequited vibe going on, over all ✨ angst ✨
Even if it was the thousandth time to watch his body move in the ring, you still were memorized by the way he moved. You were in complete admiration of how his hips flowed so fluidly through his punches. Just like always, he was aware of your presence as you stood next to Sam and Wanda, both of them with proud smiles on their faces as he defeated yet another opponent.
Watching as they raised his arm, declaring him as the champion, something he’d been striving so intensely for, the past few months. Even if his body was bruised and littered with the hits Rumlow had been able to mark his body with and not to mention the busted lip, making him taste the blood with nearly every swallow.
It didn’t matter because he had followed through with what he had set his mind out to do. The looks Rumlow was giving him after all the smack talk he had served him was satisfying enough. Even if he didn’t think you did, he saw you standing there alongside his friends, celebrating the win of his life.
He couldn’t but smile proudly at your presence, even if the disapproval you have against his lifestyle was well known between the two of you and everyone else in your friend group.
Steve knew you weren’t a fan of the injuries you brought home in your shared apartment, the nights you actually stayed there. With Jordan’s absence from New York, you’d been staying there more consistently than ever.
He would never admit it out right, but it made his heart full. With you home, he could protect and he worried wherever you weren’t there. Even if he knew you were fully capable of defending yourself if need be, it would always make him feel better when you were close to him.
Just like him, you could confess it even to yourself, but when you were back in the apartment you shared with Steve, you’d always felt safer.
He went straight to the locker room, to clean himself up as best as he could without making his friends and Tony wait too long. He’d usually go straight to them but the group took notice he held himself back when you were around.
The first match you went to and he came up with bruises running along both rib cages, a bloody nose accompanied by a busted lip, he immediately took notice of the way you cowered away from him. Barely even looking at him as you congratulated him. From then on out, he realized how much it bothered you to see him physically injured.
When you’d come, he’d always make sure to clean himself up before. It really worked out on the days he didn’t want to be around many people. Only the stragglers from the crowd would be left, and his friends who supported him nearly every time.
As soon as he made his way over to the group, he was met with Sam’s warm smile pulling him into a warm hug. You found yourself wincing as soon as Steve did. “Easy there big buy, bruises are still fresh.” Sam let up just a tad, before everyone was congratulating him. You stood back with Tony, watching the proud smile grow on his face as he watched his prodigy surpass his monumental goal.
“You should think about coming to more matches. He fights better when you’re here watching him.” You twisted your neck so you could see his coach more clearly who was standing right beside you. “I’m sure he plays just as well when I’m not here. I still watch them everytime, just from home when it’s too much for me to stomach.”
You looked forward away from Tony, Steve coming into your line of vision as Sharon, his ex who had surprisingly shown up to corral by his side, someone you’d hadn’t seen near him in the past few weeks since she’d been out of the country for work.
“His technique and endurance is the same, but his intensity always rises higher when you’re here. I’m not the only one who notices, maybe the only one bold enough to say it to you.” Tony spoke as watched the man he took in when Steve was just sixteen.
Truly, it made his heart swell with pride to see him reach the level of success he had been dreaming for him since the pair had met. Knowing Steve for the past five years, also made him hyper aware of the girl he never seemed to shut up about, not that you’d ever find out.
No matter how much Tony was dying to let the words slip off his tongue.
“I’m just happy to be here for him.” Keeping your words short as you watched Sharon move closer to him, her hand resting on his chest and he didn’t even move away from it. You tried to ignore the ugly shade of green rising in your chest, but with him it always seemed to show.
Not that you’d had a right to, you weren’t single or emotionally available by any means, but the thought of him being with someone who had hurt him so much made you more protective of him than you had a right to be.
“C’mon little dove, have you thought about why you’d rather stay in the dinged up apartment with Steve than be with your boyfriend of three years across the country?” He pressed harder, making sure you were careful of your response. “My friends are here and so is my family. I can’t just leave everyone I love behind.” Your gaze never left Steve’s as he finally was out of Sharon’s grip.
“Steve’s here, too. You sure it has nothing to do with him?” Part of you couldn’t stand there with Tony and lie to him because you weren’t sure what was the nature of your relationship with the boxer.
Thankfully, you were saved from responding by the devil himself as made his way over to the two of you. Much to your dismay, he had to get in a few more words before Steve was in earshot. “Just think about why Steve lives with you when he’s had more than enough to move out for a while now.”
Before you could even process the words leaving his mouth, your favorite man in the ring immediately has you wrapped up in his arms. Holding you so close and so tightly, not even caring if it put more pressure on his lungs than he wished.
“Congrats on the win, Champion. I’m so proud of you.” The arms you had around him were placed gently, too afraid to put any weight on the new bruises. Not to mention the old ones which were still healing.
Once he pulled away from you, just enough so you could look at him. He hummed at Tony and with one nod of his head he knew when the young boxer wanted to be left alone. More times than not, it is usually with you.
“I thought you weren’t coming tonight. Isn’t Jordan in town?” Not even when it was the biggest moment of his career thus far did he care to indulge in his victories. Always it seemed to be looking after you.
“Stevie, this is your night. We don’t have to talk about me — we’re always talking about me.” For a moment he almost bought your act until he looked into those dazzling eyes of yours, ones he never seemed to grow tired of in the past few years.
“I’m not happy unless you’re happy. So, if you need a night where we just watch romcoms and chow on cookie dough ice cream, you know I’m all yours.” Unknowing to the two of you, everyone of your friends was watching the encounter and still couldn’t believe you still were with your current boyfriend.
Or that Steve was just waiting for you patiently. Something that didn’t come easy for him around women. Before you, he didn’t really do relationships with women that didn’t end with him in their bed at some point. Somehow, much to everyone’s dismay, he managed to keep his interactions platonic with you.
At least in their eyes.
“No, Stevie. I’m fine. He just didn’t follow through this time. It’s not the end of the world, I’ll be fine. Tonight, I just wanna be by your side and celebrate you.” Although, he didn’t really believe you Steve decided he would let it go.
“Regardless of it, thank you for coming tonight. Means the world to me.” It really did. Even more so, when he felt like he was one of the reasons you were still in Brooklyn and not in California living with your boyfriend instead.
“Oh, hush bubba. You’re getting so soft on me and you haven’t even had a proper drink in you yet. Let’s just celebrate with our friends, yeah?” You kissed his cheek sweetly, before you were off to Bucky and Nat’s place to get properly fed and surely get Steve drunk off his ass.
It really was the elephant in the room you were choosing to ignore. The fluttering feeling of adventurous butterflies traveling to spaces you didn’t know existed. Everytime he pulled you close to his side or kissed your temple.
When Bucky would do something monumentally stupid, he would whisper a line in your ear humorous enough to hear you laugh. Even right now, when you knew he was exhausted, muscles sore and aching — Steve was still tending to whatever you needed.
In this moment, your body nestled between his legs as he draped his arm across your chest, letting him hold you close was exactly what you needed. Even if you tried to remove yourself several times because of the new injuries, he would never let you.
“What’s next, Rogers?” Steve watched as he craned his neck towards Sharon. You’d almost forgotten she was here, she’d been so quiet most of the night.
“A whole lot of rest and then in a few weeks, right back into training.” He spoke with pride because winning the title went hand and hand with defending it. “You should come to the club. Danielle’s been itching to see you, again.”
Steve grimaced, not just as Sharon’s words, but with how stiff your body became. The way you rubbed back and forth with the tip of your fingers against his forearm came to a halt.
You weren’t really sure what to do because now you felt horrible for even feeling like you had a right to be upset in the first place. Because you didn’t. You weren’t single and Steve was. In this space in time, he did nothing wrong.
When you followed Nat back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine, away from him, it felt like he had made a mistake.
Just watching as you followed Nat up the pathway, in your pretty green dress, as you messed with the necklace adoring your neck. Something he learned you did when you were anxious.
“Why would you bring that up now? In front of her?” He was slightly pissed off she had driven you away and out of his arms. Steve would have you within his grip constantly if you would let him. Not that you did, but it was still a certain something he found himself wishing for. More than not though, someone else always seemed to hold your attention whenever he wasn’t in the ring.
Jordan. Tony. Sam. Natasha. Bucky. Wanda.
Tonight had seemed it might go in a different direction, until Sharon steered your mind elsewhere. One where you were a girl who missed her boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.
Unknowingly to Steve, Jordan was the last thing on your mind, which allowed the guilt to settle in. Maybe, just this one time it was rightfully placed. The thoughts you were having scared you senseless — making you want to do something you knew you shouldn’t.
You just sat there on the padded bar tool as Nat grabbed a bottle of white with a bottle of red. Like time and time again, Nat read your mind just as she often did. “So, why couldn’t he come this time?” She drilled into you, her iridescent daggers as piercing as ever.
“He said he forgot his mother asked him to help her move out of the house. He said he’d make it up to me some other time.” Just like always.
But you held your tongue before voicing it to anyone other than yourself. It’d been months since you’d seen him in the flesh, and it was the first time he spoke to you in days when he informed you he’d been unable to spend any of his time off with you.
“He’s just never here and he keeps asking for me to move to Los Angeles, but my whole life is here. Before, he never seemed to really pressure me. He was always patient with me to travel at my own pace but I think he ultimately thought I would eventually go there with him.” You breathed out, scared of the truth dripping right out of you.
“I just-, you know what? Nevermind. It’s isn’t important.” She was never one to bite her tongue, but she found herself trying to when your feelings were involved.
“Tell me. What is it?” Your curious, bambi eyes peering into your soul, dying to pull the confession right out of her.
“Do you even miss him when you’re apart for so long? I’m not judging but it just seems like you’re okay. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but why don’t you ever go to him or Jordan to you?” Natasha spoke softly, afraid she might be poking the bear just a bit.
“Of course I miss him. I would see him if I could. I’m just a little too busy right now with work and my family.” You attacked back, feeling the need to defend yourself.
“Are you really going to make me say it?” With both bottles of wine on the counter, she went to grab three more wine glasses — for Sharon, herself, and you.
“Say what? What the hell are you talking about?” You pushed her as she put out the bottles of wine as she managed to link the three vines of the glasses in her left fingertips. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She was regretting it now, because maybe you weren’t quite ready to hear the words everyone else knew to be true. Anyone who was around the two of you could see it.
Perhaps, Nat never spoke a word of it because at the very least, she thought you wouldn’t be as naive to see his feelings. The ones he seemed to offer you on a silver platter, whether you wanted to reject or accept the offering, giving it to you wholeheartedly.
Following her out the patio door where the two of you stopped, not moving a step further. She didn’t really say anything either. Letting you bask in the glow before the fall.
He was laughing so hard, his hand clutching his chest as him. Golden hair shining bright by the fire pit, almost as
lively as his smile. Even if it looked like his spirit could have been beaten out of him tonight, he’d never show it.
When he had trouble keeping his eyes open, he’d force himself to stay alert because moments he could spend with ones he loved seemed too precious to pass up. Especially over the past few months — he didn’t even have to think twice about it.
Through the schedule Tony had him on, his life was eating, breathing, living boxing. Training every day in the gym, whether it be furthering his techniques in the gym to Tony making him regret any mistake he made in the ring.
Even some days he was just weight training when Tony told him he could rest. He couldn’t though. Not when he could taste the sweetness of his dreams on the tip of his tongues.
Every day, dawn till dusk, training consumed every moment of his time. Steve thought his body was restless before, but now? Nothing came even close to this.
Leading Steve to be blissfully unaware of what was actually going in that fantastically bold head of yours.
“Just spill it, Romanov.” You pressured her, but your eyes were too weak to redirect your directions elsewhere. Only Steve holding your attention at one.
“Remember when Steve left for Spain for three months with Tony?” Your body stilled, having a feeling you knew where this was going. Regretting you told her what had happened with Steve in the first after promising him it would just stay between the two of you.
“It was the year Jordan and I had split for two months.” The memory of what happened always clouding your better judgement. The way his eyes shined still haunted you. “Steve had already been there a month when it happened and the second I told him he insisted on flying me out.”
Looking at him fondly, across the greenery before speaking so softly as if he was right next to you, “I could never say no to him. I still can’t.” Nat tried to ignore it but she could see through the fog of your first love fading even if you were trying your hardest to avoid the inevitable heartache.
The care you held for him was oozing out of you, bursting and breaking at the seams. When you kept thinking of him more than a roommate, more than a friend.
“Dove, you can’t just keep pretending your feelings don’t exist. The more you try to bury the root deep the more it will grow.” You knew she was right, but you really didn’t want to hurt anyone.
You supposed you were already causing pain unintentionally. “His biggest insecurity is him. Jordan thinks I’m still here because of him.” You confessed, the ongoing fight no secret to anyone, really.
“Aren’t you?” Maybe if you had been a better liar, you could’ve convinced her but everyone could read you like the back of your own hand.
You hated the spotlight she was putting on you, but even more so because she was right. Moving forward with Jordan meant leaving someone else behind, something you couldn’t seem to prepare yourself to do.
“I love Jordan. He’s my first love and I thought he would be the greatest one, too.” You really want to stop the love and admiration flowing out of you, but you couldn’t choose who you love and maybe it was time for you to stop fighting it.
“Then, I met Steve. He responded to the ad I put out for the spare room in my apartment and we met for coffee.” If you had listened to your mother, her wishes of you not to be in the company of a man who was a complete stranger, you’d never meet the most important person in your life.
“He looked more like a boy back then. Clean shaven. No beard. Steve was still muscular, but not nearly as toned as he is now. But his eyes? They pulled me right in. Still do, every damn time.” You should have held some sort of shame, but you didn’t.
“You should do something about it, Dove. He isn’t going to be single forever.” Nat questioned as you followed her lead, back to the roaring fire.
“Nat, I love Jordan. I could never do that to him.” You really couldn’t, but you also couldn’t find it in you to move with him either. “I know you love him, but you aren’t in love anymore.” Growing closer and closer, back to the group, you saw him clearly.
“What do you mean?” Trying to ignore the pain in your chest as Natasha spoke. “I think you’re scared of ending it with Jordan. Dove. I’ve known you for a long time now and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you do with Steve.”
The words spilling out of her lips left you a little broken — the truth spearing you through. She wasn’t wrong, not one bit. Nat never nearly was, especially when your feelings were involved. Steve had become such an enigma to you in the past year.
The line of platonic friendship and overflowing emotional intimacy was becoming too entangled for you to even comprehend.
“Just think about it. I just want you to be happy.” The rest of the night, it’s all you could think about. A few days passed and it was still in the forefront of your mind.
When Steve was walking home with you this week, you couldn’t stop wondering all the hypotheticals swarming inside your dreams.
He could tell, too.
You’d never been so quiet, not ever. He’d like to hear you, especially when you were drunk. Like you seemed to be now, at least to him but tequila that lit a fire in your chest a few hours ago was beginning to wear off. Just when the feelings you kept trying to avoid would seep there way back in like your furry, fat cat Thor when he wormed his body through the gate into the apartment.
“What’s wrong? You’ve seemed off this week.” You felt his hand kiss yours, but he didn’t bother to find it’s home. He’d been keeping his distance or at least been trying to. You'd been so vulnerable lately and the last thing he wanted to do was exploit that.
Ever since Sharon had made a comment about Danielle, and you escaped with Nat, something changed. You more guarded around him, more than you'd ever been since you met.
Steve knew there was a reason for it, but he didn't want to push you — not when it looked like you would combust into a breakdown at any given moment.
“I’ve just been thinking about where my life is going and where I want it to go.” You confessed, letting your words linger. “Jordan wants me to move with him to California and I’m running out of reasons to say no.” In perfect harmony, your eyes met his at the same time.
They weren’t joyful what his bright blues usually possess, but this time they were indifferent. Not even you could read them.
“Do you want to move there with him?” Steve asked you, his heart on the verge of dropping into his stomach. “If it will make you happy, you should.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, you watched him drift away from you.
“I don’t know. It might.” Both of you coming to a halt, walking up to the apartment the two of you shared.
“He’s insecure about you. It’s why he’s pressuring me.” The two of your bodies so close but so far away as you stood in the doorway. With a confusing gaze and pouty lips, practically guiding you into temptation.
“He used to always tell me you were in love with me. He was fully convinced, still is. I never thought so. You were just my best friend, that was it. I just never really thought about it unless Jordan brought it up.” You would have loved to blame your sudden outburst on the alcohol, but it was something you'd been dying to do.
Before you never had the guts, but you a felt a pull towards Steve lately, like maybe there was something more trying to burst under the seams.
“I thought Tony was bullshitting me, fucking with me, but I didn’t ever give it a thought. Then, Nat brought up Spain.” Nights you told yourself were a mistake, but deep down it was the probably the safest you felt in a long time.
“What are you talking about? What did Tony say?” Fetching for the key, he slid it in before opening the door for you and following you inside. “Steve, why do you still live here?” Blushing cheeks and a string of incoherent words was all you could make out from him.
As he headed for the small couch, trying to make up an excuse good enough. One which you’d actually believe, he hoped.
“You make four times as much as me, if not more. For some reason, you’ve decided to stay in this shithole apartment — it doesn’t make sense.” He wished you would make sense of it, that way he didn’t have to say a word.
“Do you want me to move out?” He questioned, watching your movements. If you wanted him to move out, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
It was the last thing you wanted, but the line between your friendship with him was always blurred. Only now, when it was vaguely pointed out by the two people close to the both of you — it became more apparent than ever.
“No, I just, I guess I’m asking why. You know you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, but this place is a dump, Steve. Why on earth would you wanna stay here?” When he looked up, where you stood above him having a hard time biting his tongue.
Because you’re here.
It’s what he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the right and he would just be an asshole if he put you in a compromising position. He already felt guilty enough with his feelings in the first place, he didn't need to pile on.
“I guess it’s just easier to stay. It’s so close to the ring and I’m maybe a tad too comfortable.” You sat next to him on the couch. Finding yourself trapped in the green of his eyes. “Don’t you want something better?” Maybe it was him or maybe it was you. Neither of you could tell.
The two of you inched closer until Steve was caressing your thigh, just with the tip of his thumb. “I’m more than happy with where I’m at.”
“Well, I’m asking because I need to go to California. Just for a bit. I need to see Jordan, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.” He didn’t stop touching, not even with the mention of his name.
Even if it pierced him every time you talked about him. Or when Jordan came to town, he felt like he didn’t exist to you.
He didn’t blame you, not at all. Jordan was your highschool sweetheart, and you wanted so badly for it to work but something was holding you back. Something you were trying to let go of.
“He loves me so much and wants to start building this whole new life, but how am I supposed to tell him?” Steve said nothing, letting you sink into the ground.
“He’s been nothing, but kind and loving. Always there, always supportive. The best partner I could have asked for.” Steve laced your hand in his like it was the most natural thing in the world, making butterflies erupt at full speed.
You couldn’t really pinpoint a moment when he started, but all you knew is how safe his warm, calloused hands made you feel. Since the moment you met, never failing to comfort you when needed.
“Then what’s the problem, Dove?” Steve questioned you, untangling his body from yours.
If he was going to help you, he needed to think and being so close to you wouldn’t get himself where you needed. Above all, you didn’t make any easier when a small whine left your throat — tugging at his heart strings.
“We never talk about what happened in Barcelona.” You watched his body tighten, muscles in his arm constricting.
It made him feel just as uneasy as it did to you. At least you could find comfort in that.
“Dove, there’s a reason for it. You and I both know it.” Steve was right. His self righteous sense of nature always kicked in when you wanted it the least.
“You don’t think about it? Because I do.” Pushing weight on his heart, you were very aware you held. You weren’t too naive to know just how much he cared for you, but coward enough to try and make him admit it first.
“You were broken up, things are different now. We’re home where you have a boyfriend and I have boxing.”
“Yes, where I have a boyfriend who wants me to abandon everything I hold close to me to join him without even bothering to ask me what I want.” You puffed out, exhaustion coming in overflow. “The past year, he hasn’t once asked me what I want.”
The boy with golden locks found himself wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, nurse you back to health with all the love he could offer.
But even he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep on spreading himself thin over a woman who was so conflicted, so distraught she was collapsing within herself. If he wasn’t too careful, he might fall right beside you.
“Before we got back together, he asked me.” You confessed, feeling better as soon as the secret flew from your mouth. “He asked you what?” Steve pressed on, a bit terrified of it truly, but even he had to know.
“He asked if anything happened between us the months I was there and I lied. Ever since we met, he’s been insecure. He thinks I’m going to leave you for him and it wasn’t the first time he asked either.” You wish you hadn’t dealt with the two of them so poorly, but with the expression on Steve’s face you knew you had.
“He knows I lied and it hurts even more he stayed with me anyways.” Steve didn’t move, his fear keeping him still.
“I don’t know how to be his after you, but I don’t know how to let go of my high school sweetheart either.” You felt trapped, in between an impossible decision. An old love, who loves you past your mistakes, past the hurt and a soulful heart admiring you from where you’re at and nothing less.
“Those nights don’t have to mean anything if you don’t want them to.” He spoke softly, his beautiful orbs catching yours in the moonlight peeking through the window.
“They mean too much to me, that’s the problem.” If he didn’t move as you inched closer to his body, planting yourself in front of him, you could tell he was straining himself.
“Do you remember the first time?” He looked confused, wondering if you truly were bold enough to speak of something you shouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Your hand found his chest, feeling the pulse of his rapid heart beat. “I was so shy and timid the first time with you, but you guided me so well.” Too fond of the memory of him worshipping every part of your body.
The very thing he wanted to do since the moment he met you, but Steve wanted more than that. Now more than ever.
“You don’t have to remind me, Dove. I remember.” He swallowed deeply, trying to erase the permanent memory of your body writhing beneath him, moaning out his name, begging him for more.
He still found himself thinking about it. Those two months with you had just amplified what he felt even more because now he knew what it was like for you to wake up in his arms, bare skin against his own.
The way you curled into his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist for optimal comfort.
Or when he’d wake up before you, which was most days, he’d find you murmuring his name in your sleep while soft fingertips caressed your skin lulling you into a more peaceful slumber.
“I never forget, Dove. That’s the problem.” With one finger, he pushed back the hair falling in your face tucking it behind your ear. “I tried to move past it, I went on a couple dates with this woman, Danielle.” You already felt your heart clench at the thought of him with someone else.
“She’s kind, smart, and beautiful and she seems to like me. Sharon keeps bugging me to take her out again since she set the two of us up.” Steve was trying to talk calmly, but he couldn’t ground himself. Especially when you only seemed to pull back further from him.
It was weird that Sharon set the pair up, considering she dated Steve not too long ago but it seemed she could put her feelings inside if it was for your despair.
In her daunting eyes, you were the reason her and the promising boxer broke up in the first place. As cliche as it was, she offered Steve an ultimatum after six months of dating — her or you.
Steve picked you.
It wasn’t like he loved her at that point. He did care for her, but you just meant too much to him. When kind, iridescent eyes met his own for the first time Steve never was able to stop thinking about them. Or you for that matter.
Carefully calculated as Steve could be, he managed to trap you between the closed door of his bedroom and his toned body.
“But I want to hear you say something before I do.” His gaze never faltered for a moment as he played with the hem of the short slip dress adoring your taut figure.
Half of your mind was begging you to retreat into your room and forget the last time you’d been pressed up against him like this. The other half wanted to see what he would do once he knew you were in the palm of his hand once again.
You had a feeling he already did.
His beard was grown out and his silky, golden hair that almost reached his shoulders make him look even more deliciously sinful.
“What’s that?” You tried not to gulp loudly, but if you even made the slightest movement, he would notice. “Tell me you’re in love with him.” His soft thumb caressing your side, not sure if he was trying to soothe himself or you.
“Just tell me five years down the line, you see him right there with you. Just say it, so I can move on.” He couldn’t even look at you, he couldn’t take the inevitable. “Tell me we’re just friends and Jordan’s your future.” You met his eyes, the prettiest blues you’ll ever see.
Commanding your attention without even trying — every damn time. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but you knew seeing him hurt was chipping a piece of you away. Watching his arched eyebrows furrowed in distress, fine lines being made in the middle for proof.
Soft fingertips met his skin, smoothing out his furrowed brows, closing his eyes trying to remember what you smelled like. Just like Sharon reached her breaking point, he had too. Steve couldn’t watch you any longer without being the one you wanted without a doubt.
“Stevie.” You softly whisper, before pulling him into your arms.
Even if he was double your size, he let you hold him as best as you could. Comfort him even if you were the reason he’s breaking.
The strong, persistent boxer had been transported back to the sick and thin kid he once was before all the guns and glory came. Steve was right back to where he got rejected by anyone and everyone. A time and many places where no one gave a damn about Steve Rogers, not anyone he wished for.
You watched him untangle himself from you, but you weren’t sure just how much time had passed. A few minutes? Thirty? An hour?
Only time could tell and she wasn’t really on your side at the moment.
“I’ve only found love once. Back in high school, there was this girl, Hazel. She was kind, sweet, eyes that shined like fresh honey. The first person to ever show any interest in me and I was in love with the fact that someone actually wanted me.” Steve felt his heart clench at the memory he wished to forget.
“I truly believed I loved her with every fiber in me and I thought she cared about me too, until I realized she was just using me to get to Bucky.” You watched the distress wash over him again and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel appreciated and loved. Not rejected and forgotten.
“It broke my heart for months because I truly believed I was in love with this girl who I hardly knew.” He sighed deeply, like he somehow already was aware of the soft whisper of goodbye.
“It always kind of stayed with me, not ever feeling like I was good enough for anyone until Tony found me. Graduated high school and I started training dawn till dusk until I couldn’t anymore just to start all over and do it the next day.” He was looking everywhere but you. Even if there was not a thing in this damn hallway, but two pressured hearts.
“Not too long after, I met you and I remember thinking this is the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met in my life.” Now, feeling like an absolute dick because you truly didn't deserve for this wonderful man to be in your life.
“You were so kind to me and you had no reason to be, but I learned it’s just who you are. This amazingly bright full beam, shining their light on everyone else — not paying attention to how much they give even if it’s everything they have.” Your skin felt hot beyond comparison, the passion in the words he spoke deeper than the memory of his skin against your own.
“I always tried to ignore it, how stupidly kind and thoughtful you are. How much you take care of me when you don’t have to. You cleaned my wounds for months without even asking me what I was doing.”
“I already knew you had a boyfriend, one you love very much, but I couldn’t stop myself from being around you. Now, I have to leave. I need to move on for me because I know how this ends for me — how it always has.” He sighed before walking away, leaving you hanging in every conceivable way. You didn’t notice the suitcase by the door before. Until he was walking out of the apartment with his possessions in hand — out of sight and out of mind.
“Wait!” He was already making it to his car, the old beat up pickup truck he couldn’t seem to get rid of when you reached him. “I just need time, Steve.” You’d been sprinting after him, until you caught up to him, making his attention fully focused on you.
“Jordan’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had — I don’t know how to let him go.” You were crying because maybe, deep down you were hoping you could have your cake and eat it too.
“And you’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with, Dove. I can’t keep sticking around hoping you’ll wake up one day and feel the same.” He emptied his belongings in his truck before returning his attention towards you.
“Steve, don’t do this. Please. Don’t leave me.” You’d become so dependent on him, more than you realized. “You’re the only person who truly loves me and not for who they want me to be.” Trying to plead with him, but it felt like you were only pushing him even further away.
“Then tell me I’m the only one you want.” But all he was left with silence because you couldn’t and he already knew what you didn’t. He knew you hated change more than anything, that you’d rather stay in what was comfortable even if you were presented with a different option.
Someone you wanted more.
With tears in your eyes, you looked up at him like he was crushing you and there was nothing to stop the numbing feeling. He sympathized, maybe more than he liked to admit, it’s what he chose to live with over the past year. It started the moment he met you if he was truly being honest.
He knew there was nothing left for him, no matter how much his heart clenched at the sound of your cries. He couldn’t be the one who was always taking care of you, loving you, when you didn’t feel what he felt. It was splitting him open, and you just kept taking pieces of him away — parts of him you would hold forever.
He let you cling onto him one more time, begging for him not to leave you. He let you believe he wouldn’t as he calmed you back in a false sense of security. Until you were asleep in his soft sheets later that night, leaving you lonely in the home you’d been sharing.
With only half of his belongings with him, he pulled up to the project he had just completed. Even now, with not a single hope you would ever see it after he just abandoned you, there was still a light hope you’d be able to at least see it one day. If Steve was ever strong enough to face his heartbreak again.
tagging: @tonystankschild | @andromedasstarship | @tinylumpiaa | @brattycherubwrites | @bval-1 | @kayteewritessteve |
#i apologize for the heartache#i lowkey love the pain :')#honest to god.....this is my favorite piece i've ever written#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans smut#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fan fiction#steve rogers au#boxer!steve rogers#boxer!steve#boxer au#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers angst#mcu fanfiction#m.writes#<333#steve rogers x poc reader
599 notes
·
View notes
Text
— spider lily
pairing: choi yeonjun x gn!reader // ghoul!au // warnings: language, horror (?) // wc: 1k
a/n: happy halloween weekend besties <3
the evening is almost finished bleeding into night when you arrive at the front entrance of yeonjun's apartment complex.
though nothing had been officially planned, the night of your anniversary had always consisted of an impromptu visit by one and small celebrations planned by the other. so with your celebratory cake you'd bought from the nearby bakery, you got off your shift at work and made your way over to yeonjun's place for your annual not-surprising-surprise.
balancing the cakebox in one hand, your other hand knocks on the door, and the unclosed door creaks open into a pitch black room.
"hello?" you softly call, stepping inside. items lie astray across the floor, a couple of his books splayed on the tile, the small succulent plant he'd insisted on looking after knocked onto the ground, shards of what used to be a mug shattered across the floor. you gingerly pick up a piece of the ceramic, carefully brushing off the bits of soil stuck to it.
it had been a gift to him last christmas, the badly painted fox on the front fractured cleanly across the middle of its face. you push the hurt sentimentality to the back of your mind as your thoughts rush to the more important matter at hand.
yeonjun had never been one to leave his place in such disarray like this, especially not when he knew he'd be expecting company. you brace yourself, your grip on the cakebox tightening. worst comes to worst, you could fling it at the intruder before running away and calling the cops, and you're certain you can scream loudly enough for the neighbors to alert the neighbors if the cake-throwing plan fails.
you hear a rustle from the kitchen; you freeze.
turning your head to the flickering light of the kitchen, you see a huddled form in the shadows, their breath shallow and rasping as their chest heaves from exertion. your eyes widen, scanning the figure until the flashes of light allow you to vaguely make out the line of their shoulders, the color of the jacket that had been draped on your shoulders countless times, the remaining neon yellow of the hair you'd helped bleach in a fit of impulsive tipsiness last summer.
"...yeonjun?"
he turns to look at you, scleras black, teeth stained with crimson as blood smears messy like paint on his cheeks, his chin, his lips—everything comes crashing down.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
the scream doesn't even have enough time to make it past your throat.
faster than the eye can see, yeonjun pounces, his hands reaching out to clutch your throat before the weight of his body running at full speed sends the both of you crashing onto the floor. shards of ceramic cut jagged into your skin, the cake topples out of your hands; the white tiles smear red, even under the lowlight.
you let out a choked gasp, fingers scrabbling at his to let go of your throat, but it only draws a snarl from his chest, pupils shrinking as he tightens his grip around your neck.
it's going to bruise tomorrow, you think distantly, your vision blurring at the edges. it's going to bruise tomorrow and yeonjun is going to be so worried asking how—
oh.
the reality of it all hits you, the imminency of being eaten, the tragedy that would be your death at the hands of the one you loved most, but even still, you try one last plea, your hands wrapped around his wrists as you wheeze out your next words. "jun, it's just me." you don't even know if he's still there anymore. "please."
and for a moment, he stops. the black void in his eyes, the dot of red lying within, the sight is hauntingly familiar in ways you've forced yourself to forget.
his moment of hesitation is enough for you to free your leg underneath him to kick yeonjun away, his grip on you ripped off as you scramble to the other side of the room, gasping for air.
it's seared into your mind as the charred memories flake ashes into your skin, your bones. your throat burns as you remember a night years ago, caught between the grip of a ghoul and the brick wall of an abandoned alleyway. it was all too dark to see, but you remember only one thing—the crimson glow of his eyes, blood that has not yet been spilt.
"it was you," you choke. perhaps it would have been better to just have died ignorant. "that night, it was you."
yeonjun blinks. recognition is still hazy on his face, but the longer he stares at you confusion morphs into horror. black scleras recede back to white, and he looks down at his shaky hands, the shards from earlier split into his palms. "i did it again," he breathes; it's all the answer you need to hear.
“did you know?” the question is squeezed out, barely able to form on your tongue as you breathe it into existence. “this entire time, did you know i was the same person? was this your plan all along, to lure me in just so i could be your next meal—”
“no!”
yeonjun’s vehement denial slices through the air. “no, i would never do that. i didn’t mean for this to happen, i never wanted you to find out. i—”
i love you, he means to say, but even he knows those words wouldn’t mean much of anything anymore.
“i’m sorry,” he settles for instead, and despite yourself, you know he’s genuine in at least this.
letting out a shaky breath, you stand on wobbly legs, one foot slowly put in front of the other. it’s stupid of you to even consider this, especially after everything that’s happened tonight, but you’ve always been too much of a fool when it comes to yeonjun.
“okay.” in your mind, you still see breakfast at a table for two, gentle hands and soft smiles outlined in morning glow. it’s still yeonjun, you tell yourself. it’s always been yeonjun, and it’s always been you—it was as much of the truth as anything else. you crouch down, thumb brushing hair from his forehead.
“okay, what can i do to help?”
#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt fanfic#txt x reader#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun scenarios#yeonjun imagines#txt yeonjun scenarios#choi yeonjun#m.writes
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
gojou satoru boyfriend texts.
featuring gojou satoru
genre fluff
author’s note woo my first work here anw pls like or rb if u enjoyed </3
all works ⓒ aimaki 2021. please don’t steal, plagiarize or repost
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#m.writes
240 notes
·
View notes
Text
simply human | l.jy
A/N: this was supposed to be posted yesterday for halloween so uhh happy late halloween look at me I’m trying to write again! it’s not spooky so I guess posting it today isn’t a huge deal, still fits the season... based loosely on this story idea.
Word Count: 6866
Genre: catboy!juyeon, warlock!juyeon, fluff, lightly implied romance
Pairing: reader (gender neutral) x lee juyeon (the boyz)
Warnings: mentions of magic though nothing used... uhh... very slowly paced is a warning as well (like there’s barely any juyeon wtf was I doing???), also I have a habit of trailing things off at the end of my writings and leaving things to the reader’s imagination after sorry :’))
Summary: Lee Juyeon is possibly one of the most eligible bachelors in town—his looks being favored by everyone who lays their eyes on him—but he has one thing working against him: He’s a warlock. In the city, those who practice magic are just thought of as normal, everyday people. But in smaller towns, they’re thought of as bad luck and archaic. It’s a bias that you’ll never quite understand, and thus you watch the handsome boy who visits the coffee shop you work at daily, admiring him from afar. You’d never have guessed he was leading a quiet double life...
A deep sigh falls past your lips, one that seems to come straight from the depths of your chest—maybe even deeper. It holds something that words can’t quite express; stresses, longing, and a confusion you aren’t sure how to work past. Next to you, the black cat who is just an arm’s length away stirs. It peeps one eye open as your breath travels through the blades of grass, passing through before ghosting over the cat’s fur. It tickles, and felines don’t much like things that tickle.
You’d been watching the cat this entire time, so when it cracks a single amber eye open to fixate on you, you suck in the breath you’d just let out, freezing in place. Waiting, wondering. Had you somehow deterred away your latest friend and most recent confidant?
“Sorry,” you whisper to the cat, wondering if that will somehow remedy the situation.
The cat’s ears flicker in response, and that single amber eye closes.
You’d dealt with many cats before that. For many, as soon as you even so much as had your fingertips graze their fur the wrong way, they’d go scurrying off. Some even liked to lash out. This cat, however, was a curious little fellow—you were fairly certain it was a fellow—it liked to lay just out of your reach, near you, whenever you came to sit underneath the maple tree in the warm afternoons; on days when the sun was just peaking at its highest before dipping down below the horizon. Now that autumn was in full force, days were growing shorter and the warmth which you sought by the sun and the maple—a space to think freely and escape your worries—was also growing shorter as the chill of the oncoming winter began to set in earlier and earlier each day.
The cat seemed to have the same idea as you, seeking out the tree for afternoon naps and letting you rant your heart away. Somehow, it almost seemed as if the feline was listening to you—but not just listening, understanding, as well. The little black feline would fix you with a gaze that was so deep and knowing, you sometimes felt as if you were oversharing. Whenever the cat met your eyes, you could feel your heart seize up in your chest; the idea of the creature somehow understanding what you were saying causing you to panic and double back, wondering if your thoughts were safe with the little cat.
But the comfort the cat brought was something that couldn’t be matched by the company of your friends and family. It was nice to have someone to just talk to and listen, someone that didn’t reply all the time. Even if that someone wasn’t exactly a human. Even if that someone happened to have some human-like personality traits that left you wondering. Cats were intelligent, though, so you never found yourself questioning it too much.
After some time, you push yourself up into a sitting position from where you lay on your side in the grass, letting out another long sigh. This time, your breath doesn’t even so much as reach the cat. However, your presence shifting causes the small animal to stir, letting out a ‘mrrmph’ and stretching out of the ball it had been curled into, rolling over onto its side. The cat lazily blinks up at you, before licking a paw and swiping it over its face, repeating the action and grooming itself.
“This is why my mom told me not to move away to a small town like this. She called me a romantic for trying to follow my dreams—be a writer, live in a cozy space unknown to the world and basically off the grid.” Instead of sighing, you scoff this time. “Little did she know I’d actually become a romantic and fall in love with someone who doesn’t even know I exist… or maybe she did know. Moms seem to somehow know everything…”
You groan, letting your face fall into your hands. “I can’t believe I spilled that all over him this morning—I don’t even want to go to work tomorrow.”
Before one emotion can even settle, you’re letting out another groan and falling back into the grass again. You hit the ground with a slight thud. Next to you, the cat startles in surprise, but doesn’t move.
“I have to be up for seven… I have to open the shop… ugh I hate opening shifts, that’s too early. We saw what happened today! I didn’t even get enough sleep and then that disaster unfolded!”
From next to you, the cat watches as you work through your turmoil of thoughts and emotions for the third time since coming to the maple tree. Before one can settle, another begins, and so your distraught cycle repeats itself yet again. The cat had already heard the story, about how you’d gotten next to no sleep last night—finally finding a strike of muse and mistakenly staying up until almost four in the morning to write the wave out—and had to open the coffee shop at which you work at seven on the dot that same morning. Your crush, the one and only Lee Juyeon—a noteworthy bachelor in town whose presence wasn’t very welcomed, though his looks were practically revered—had entered the shop. Amidst your foggy, sleep-deprived state, you’d clumsily perfected his order, then proceeded to spill it down the front of his clothes.
It was a minor mishap. It wasn’t something that happened often, but it wasn’t something that one should trouble themselves over this much. Although, of course, one had to consider the fact that Juyeon being dashingly handsome, with strong features and a soft smile; as well as being your crush, were added factors that had to be considered in the equation.
The cat still found it ridiculous, as cats often do of human matters.
You push yourself into a sitting position again, with a bit more determination in your shoulders this time. The cat barely pauses its grooming session as you turn to address it, despite not needing to. “I need to go. I need to get some sleep before work tomorrow.”
Despite knowing that the outcome will be futile, you reach out slowly and attempt to stroke the cat with the back of your hand, as a final goodbye before the two of you meet again. But this time, the cat reacts to your proximity—instantaneously cutting its grooming session short by jumping to its feet and away from you. The feline cuts you a look, giving itself a shake, before it trots off.
It had been two weeks now, so you had been hopeful something had changed between you and the cat. But, cats were fickle creatures, and although your feline friend proved to be a good confidant and equally welcomed your silent company—that’s all it wanted at the moment, was some company. A part of you wondered if something kept the cat from being friendlier, even after you’d proven you weren’t going to push or rush any affection received, such as a trauma or unpleasant experience. You weren’t too certain that was the case, though, considering the cat wasn’t wary or scared—just indifferent.
“Get home safe,” is your last goodbye to the cat, spoken into the emptiness around you which is only broken up by the evening breeze whistling through the autumn leaves.
—
Thankfully, you get enough sleep that night. When you get home, the tiredness hits you like a giant wave, and there’s not even an ounce of temptation to continue your writing as there had been the night before. When the next day arrives, you’re much more bright-eyed and alert. Opening the coffee shop goes smooth, as does the passing of the first few customers you have.
After the first hour of being open, like clockwork, Juyeon walks through the door of the little cafe at eight. And, like clockwork, your coworker lets out a grunt under their breath and nudges you with their elbow.
“Can you take over the cash register?”
You frown, studying them, then glancing back at Juyeon as he slowly nears the counter. A few guests cut him unfriendly looks, others stare in awe. You should be used to this, by now, but you aren’t. Growing up in the city, you hadn’t realized what kind of bias there would be in smaller, more rural areas for Juyeon’s kind—as those around here called it. He practiced magic, which in the city was a common occurrence. Being so populated, it was easy to pass someone by and not really know whether they were a witch or a warlock. They were just simply human.
But here, it was like some sort of blight. Where witches and warlocks were far and few between, it was misunderstood, and thus not welcomed. People didn’t like change, or that which they didn’t understand.
If only people could be more like cats—indifferent to those things that surrounded them which caused no harm, despite how different it might be.
Your coworker hadn’t waited for your answer, disappearing, and you have no choice but to take over the cash register. Despite the repeated normalcy of this specific situation, it’s still something you really don’t think you’ll ever get used to.
Juyeon stops in front of the counter and studies the menu above, just as you step forward and wish him a good morning. He glances down at you, gives a small smile, and then glances back up at the menu. He’s been here enough times since you’d moved to town that you know he’ll order the same thing he gets every day. For some reason, though, he still likes to idle a bit and study the menu. Maybe because there’s seasonal flavors to consider trying, despite always defaulting to the comfort pick. Or maybe he’s buffering his mind for the day—a sentiment you felt you could relate to.
“Can I get my usual?” Juyeon asks, pulling his eyes away from the menu with another smile.
You return his smile, nodding. “Of course.”
Although you try to stay calm, you can hear your heart beating much too loudly in your chest, replaying the events from the day before in your head. You try not to outwardly cringe as the scene from yesterday replays itself in your mind; then try further to shut the memories out, though not visibly show your internal struggle—choosing to focus instead on the fact that despite not being weary-eyed that morning, your hand is shaking as you lift it to the register to punch in Juyeon’s order, and you need to make it stop.
It’s something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the regular customer, though you aren’t aware that he even does notice until you’re serving him his coffee. Your coworker has conveniently cooped themselves up in the back to clean and stock. That leaves you left alone to prepare Juyeon’s drink, and you’re grateful there isn’t a rush at that moment.
When you step up to the counter to call out his name and hand over the drink, you’re straining your arm to keep your hand from shaking too badly—paranoid over a repeat from yesterday. As he takes his drink with a smile and a thank you, his fingers brush over yours. You glance up in surprise at him, wondering if he even noticed the skin contact.
Meeting his gaze, you’re aware that he is, in fact, aware of what has happened. He softens his smile—if that’s even possible. His sharp features are always the softest when he comes in during the mornings and hands out smiles to the people around him. Despite the stark contrast of how the townsfolk treat Juyeon in comparison to how he treats them, you’ve never once seen the smile on his face falter.
“You don’t have to be nervous about yesterday,” he states kindly. “Accidents happen. Stop shaking so badly out of nerves, or you’ll really end up spilling my coffee again.”
A flush immediately over takes your face, and you pull your hand back like the snap of a rubber band—luckily Juyeon already has hold of his drink, or it would have come crashing down to the counter below.
“S-s-s-sorry— I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine, I’m only joking. Like I said, accidents happen, and clothes can be washed,” Juyeon chuckles. You swear the sound makes your heart seize up in your chest—but it’s a different kind of seize than the feeling your secret cat makes you feel. This feeling is one that makes time seem to stop moving itself; his soft laugh something akin to a toll bell—not quite high pitched enough to be a bell, but not deep enough to be something else.
“Although if you spilled drink on me two days in a row, I’d probably need you to join me for coffee at some point in order to make up for all the dry cleaning,” the joke falls from Juyeon’s lips with ease—and you can only stare at him in surprise as he offers you one last smile and makes his way to a corner of the coffee shop near the window, as he does every day.
Did… he just flirt?
You shake your head at the absurdity of the thought, though the rest of your work day is spent in a trance. Even when there is a callout halfway through your shift, just a few hours away before your freedom from work—you barely react. It’s just a hiccup, even if it means you’ll be working five hours extra. Juyeon’s words idly trail through your mind, enough to keep you in a daze. Luckily, despite your mind being focused elsewhere, nothing is spilled or broken that day and you make it through the shift safely; save for a few moments of tripping over your own two feet.
When closing time rolls around, you finally start to feel all the work of the day and your clumsiness in those same two feet. You’re practically dragging yourself over the threshold when you close up the coffee shop, locking the door behind you. When you turn to begin down the street for home and the comfort of your warm bed—you almost trip over your own two feet yet again.
Except, this time, it’s not by your own fault that you almost trip. Underfoot, the darkness of the night moves just as you stumble to catch yourself, and you startle in surprise. But then, a familiar pair of amber eyes turn and meet yours—and as your eyes adjust to the blackness, you recognize the outline of a little black cat.
“Kitty?” You wonder, surprise lacing your voice. The cat, as if replying, lets out something akin to a meow and an indignant sigh, as if to ask, How dare you trip over me?
The indignant meow-sigh-huff combo makes you smile, letting out a small laugh under your breath. Yes, it’s definitely your cat friend. But why is the cat so far from the fields at the outskirts of town, away from the maple tree? How did it wander so far? You’d always assumed the cat to be a farm cat, since you’d never seen it among the streets like this—which had you worry the feline may have wandered too far from home to find its way back. At night, nonetheless.
Crouching down, you reach out a hand to the cat, back of your hand facing the feline. “What are you doing all the way in town like this, kitty?”
As per usual, the cat backs away from your hand with a little jump, before scurrying off into the night. You let out a sigh, watching it meld with the shadows, before pushing yourself back to your feet.
“Okay, fine. I thought we were friends, but whatever. Just try and assist me in breaking my neck and then leave the scene of the almost-crime.” You give your head a shake, before turning away from the coffee shop and making your way home.
The evening is colder than it has been in the past few nights. As you walk, you snuggle down a little deeper into your coat, surprised by the chill. It’s sharp enough to cut against more sensitive places of your body—like your nose, ears, and cheeks—but not quite deeply cutting in the way that the cold of winter is. This chill doesn’t seep into the depths of your bones and create an ache. It’s just cold enough to make you want to curl up on your couch with a cup of warm tea before bed, but still admire how there’s a warmth to the season overall despite the weather.
It doesn’t take long before a black flash cuts across in front of you. You slow your steps slightly, having set a brisk pace to simply get yourself home quicker, so you weren’t out at night for too long. Your shadowy friend darting back and forth is enough to keep you from walking too fast, though, worried you might trip and fall, and ultimately hurt yourself or the cat. But as you pick your pace up again, the black feline settles into a trot alongside you, weaving close to the walls of the buildings which you walk next to.
“Are you walking me home?” You muse to the cat. “Feel guilty for almost tripping me in the dark?”
You know the cat can’t understand your humor, and likely doesn’t have a conscience enough to feel guilty about such a thing, but it feels nice to talk to someone as you walk. Again—you seek comfort in the feline companion for the fact that you can voice your thoughts aloud, without expecting a reply. It’s also nice to have company on your walk home. Despite the small town being safe, and the streetlamps lighting the way, walking alone at night was an uncomfortable event. Having grown up in the city, you’d been taught to never wander the streets alone at night. It was strange to do so here.
“Lee Juyeon, the warlock that I’ve told you about, came in to work again today. I didn’t spill his order all over him today,” you smile, glancing at the little black shadow that meanders next to you. “You should be proud of me.”
Slowing your pace, you come to a halt. “Do you ever wonder why people treat him differently?” You ask the cat. For a moment, you think, before sighing, “Wait, you probably don’t even know. You’re a cat, after all. How would you realize that he’s being treated differently just because he can practice magic. Heck, you probably don’t even know who Juyeon is.”
Or, maybe the cat did, considering you’d seen Juyeon feed the neighborhood strays outside the coffee shop before.
The thought has you pulling your eyes back to your cat companion. Ahead of you, the animal pulls itself away from the wall and sidles its way into the center of the street. It keeps walking, which prompts you to resume your pace in order to catch up to the cat.
“Anyway, he does magic. A warlock. In the city, witches and warlocks are common. Magic is a lot more accepted where I come from, even though there are rules and restrictions to practicing in order to keep non-magic users safe. Maybe that’s why rural areas and small towns don’t like it, there’s no one to really keep watch and create rules,” you sigh, then wonder why the heck you’re explaining this to a cat. “But still, he’s just simply a human. My coworker doesn’t even want to breathe the same air as him. Isn’t that ridiculous…?”
Much like you do under the maple tree, you ramble to the cat as though it were any other day. It feels kind of nice to have the cat’s company and be able to walk home with someone, even if that someone weren’t quite human. Though you might appear strange to anyone else who might see you chatting into the darkness, you aren’t alone that night—a comfort which you appreciate not only because it’s dark, but also after such a long and grueling day. It allows you to keep your mind away from the dreadful thoughts you might have. Talking to the cat had also become a routine, and though you hadn’t been able to dwell much on the idea of missing out on the almost-daily routine thanks to how busy the coffee shop had gotten in the afternoon, you realize now what it means.
As you near the corner of your street, the cat slows down just ahead of you, sensing a change in your demeanor. Your stomach growls just as you’re about to round the corner the cat is stopped at, causing you to glance down in surprise. Then, you glance at the feline, before lifting your gaze up to glance over your shoulder. Just across the street, lighting up the entire corner—something you’d always been grateful for, living alone—sits a little 24-Hour corner shop. You have food at home that you can heat up quickly, but you remember that your cat friend has wandered into town from the farms, and possibly hasn’t eaten. There’s probably an abundance of mice to catch, if the cat were to look well enough, but you feel guilty after realizing how far the animal had followed you.
And, unfortunately, it wasn’t likely with your current track record that the cat would want to join you inside for the night.
“Wait here,” you instruct the cat, not even sure if it’ll listen. You dart across the street and push your way into the warmth of the little corner shop. The attendant startles in surprise at your entrance, having not expected a customer so late on a fairly chilly night, most likely.
“Do you have cat food?” You ask, and the bleary-eyed boy behind the counter points off in a corner of the shop. You follow his direction to the aisle he points out, wandering down and eyeing the shelves lined with canned and bagged food and treats for all different kinds of pets. You pick out a can of shrimp flavored canned food, remembering that the cat you’d grown up with at home had enjoyed shrimp-flavored things, before heading back to the front of the store to pay for it.
Surprisingly enough, the black cat is there waiting for you as you exit the store—still across the street. You smile, as you near, watching as the cat’s tail tip flicks where it's curled on the ground, rustling a leaf just within reach. Each time its tail does so, causing the leaf to move, the silly little cat swipes at the leaf—and its own tail. And each time, the cat looks offended as it pulls its paw back.
“I have food,” you announce your presence to the cat, so as not to startle it too much out of its little game. As you near, you pull open the can lid, bending down and setting the can on the ground. Knowing the cat will run if you extend your hand, you slowly inch the can forward with your finger tips, watching as the cat slowly inches itself back on its butt in surprise. When your hand returns to yourself, the cat stares at the opened can of food, before bending over just enough to strain its neck to reach out and sniff.
With a sharp flick of its tail, it huffs and turns, trotting off into the darkness.
Your jaw falls open in surprise. “Wow! Rude! That was two dollars!”
Frowning, you glance back at the can of food, then up again where the cat disappeared into the night. Either the cat was extremely spoiled and wasn’t actually a farm cat as you’d thought, feasting on mice—or the animal just wasn’t hungry. Somehow you doubted the latter, as it seemed like quite a journey from the edge of town to your place for a little four-legged creature. Surely any animal would be just a bit hungry after wandering around for hours, right?
Straightening yourself up, you call out into the darkness, “I’m leaving this here, then—in case you change your mind!” But your words are met with silence, and there isn’t even the breeze of the autumn wind whistling through the trees to fill the void of the night.
Parting ways with the darkness and its feline voidling, you finally round the corner and head the last few feet up the street to the warmth of your home.
—
When you wake the next morning, there’s not an immediate rush through your morning. You don’t work until a bit later in the afternoon. This means you’re able to sleep in, enjoy the warmth and comfort of your bed and burrow yourself further down under the duvet as the morning light streams through the curtains, casting even more warmth over you as it filters through the glass window. When it comes time to finally pull yourself out of bed, you shower and brush your teeth, brew a pot of coffee for yourself, and set to work at your laptop for a couple hours to get some writing out.
It’s at this time that a repeated rapping catches your attention, and when you glance up from your laptop—pulling your eyes away from the white light of the screen and squinting—you’re surprised to see a black shadow at your window, two amber eyes peering through a frame of the glass intently.
“What the—? Kitty?”
Hearing your voice, the cat stands up from crouching on the sill, butting its body against the window and letting out a loud meow. You’re fairly certain this is the first time the cat has answered you in such a blatantly obvious tone, which has you excitedly pushing yourself to your feet and rushing over to the window. In the entire time it takes you to cross your bedroom to the window, the cat continues to meow, pacing back and forth along the sill and butting itself against the glass. The cat’s tail curls, waving about languidly.
“Good morning,” you greet, pulling the window up and open for your friend. “What are you doing here? Did you sleep outside on the street last night?”
With more room on the window sill, the cat sits, pointedly fixating its gaze on you. Curiously, you present the back of your hand to the cat, holding it up between the two of you. This is the closest you’ve ever been to the creature, but that doesn’t mean you’re quite out of the woods just yet.
It takes everything within you, though, to hold back the gasp of surprise when the cat leans forward just a bit to sniff you, cold nose pressing against the back of your hand and whiskers grazing across your skin.
“Can I pet you?” You wonder, turning your hand over slowly and reaching behind the cat—but, as fickle as ever, the cat lets out another meow and turns before you can even so much as put your hand onto its fur, dropping down from the window sill. The most touch you get from the interaction is its tail swiping your arm as it turns and jumps down—which, honestly, still leaves you grinning after the cat.
“Wait there again,” you instruct the cat, closing the window. Not waiting for an answer from the feline, who seems a bit chatty that morning, you make your way out of your bedroom—pausing momentarily to grab your coffee mug—before heading to the kitchen. You wonder if the cat is hungry, mentally noting you don’t have cat food, which is why you had bought it last night, before reminding yourself that it didn’t seem to like the canned food anyway.
Fish? No, you’d have to go to the market for that. If you ate fish, you typically cooked it immediately rather than let it sit in your freezer. What else could cats eat? “Chicken…?” You wonder aloud, opening your fridge and eyeing the leftover container of some grilled chicken you’d had the night before.
“It’s a bird, cats like bird meat.” Giving yourself a small shrug, you pull the container from the fridge and open it. It takes a few moments to shred it down to something a bit more manageable to chew with your fingers, before you pop it in the microwave to nuke it a bit. You didn’t mind cold chicken, but assuming the cat had spent the night outside, you figure a little warmth in its belly would be nice.
As though sensing your intentions, when you open the front door, the black cat is sitting expectantly on the porch, staring up at the door. Its tail swipes across the wood deck lazily, seemingly unbothered by having had to wait.
“It’s not much, since I don’t really know what to feed a cat that’s okay and I don’t keep cat food… not that you appreciated it last night…” You scoff, before setting down the container on the porch in front of the cat. “But here’s some breakfast for you. Or brunch now, I suppose.”
This food smells much more interesting than the canned cat food, and the feline doesn’t hesitate to step forward and crouch down in front of the leftover container, immediately gobbling up the grilled chicken you’d shredded. You smile, watching with relief as the animal eats. You really weren’t sure at this point if the cat was a farmcat after all, a stray, or simply a spoiled wanderer—but not knowing where the animal had been overnight, and seeing it eat now after refusing food last night put your mind at ease.
You watch the cat eat in silence, making yourself comfortable and sitting back against the doorframe of your open front door. Every now and again, you sip your coffee, glance up at the street and off into the distance where you can see the rolling hills of the countryside, before looking back down at the cat. When your feline friend finishes its meal, it lays back on your porch, grooming itself in content—then moving off to a warm patch of sun and curling into a ball on your deck. Deciding you don’t want to waste this precious moment, you clean up the container before grabbing your laptop, and setting up shop on the deck for a few more hours before work, writing alongside the silent company of your tiny visitor.
“Okay, I have to go to work,” you announce after a few hours have passed, not entirely sure why you’re detailing this to the cat. If it really was a stray, it would probably remove itself from your company whenever. Or, you’d return home after work to it having disappeared again. The thought made you wistful—maybe even a bit sad. This had been the first you’d ever had the cat’s extended company and attention for, and you were growing quite used to it.
To your surprise, when it actually is time to leave for work, the cat begins to follow you after you’ve closed and locked up your little house. You let out an amused half smile, watching as the cat follows alongside you. “What, are you my chauffeur now?”
The walk to work that day is infinitely more amusing than all the other times you’d walked the same path. You don’t have much to ramble to your companion about that day, though you do mention that you wonder if Juyeon will pop in at the coffee shop in the afternoon. Typically, he was a morning coffee person, but you’d seen him stop by in the evenings once in a while. Instead of talking as you walk, though, you watch as the cat darts ahead of you every once in a while—chasing a stray leaf on the breeze and pouncing after it down the street until it lies motionless on the ground. Sometimes, the cat lags behind, and you find yourself glancing over your shoulder to see what curiosities it's getting itself into—jumping on a fence to tease a dog, sniffing around at certain things on the path, or slinking down close to the ground and acting as if it’s hunting nothing in particular, before darting ten feet ahead of you at a run and waiting for you to catch up.
“Don’t stay out here for too long tonight,” you warn the cat, pausing outside the coffee shop. “This street gets busy on weekends, someone might not see you…” You didn’t want to imagine the poor cat getting lost in the crowd. The coffee shop was in the center of a small village shopping square, and on weekend evenings it filled up with families and others sharing date nights and evening events together. You frown, wondering if the cat will listen, before giving the animal a small little wave and heading inside.
When you set to work, you can’t help but find yourself glancing out the window periodically—taking mental stock of the cat through your shift. Each time you go to clean a table, you peer out the window and see the cat either peering right back in at your, or napping somewhere nearby. Every time you call out someone’s order, you push yourself onto your tiptoes to glance over the customer’s shoulder as they near, mentally noting every spot the little black shape outside moves to. If a new customer enters the shop, you greet them and take their order, and before the transaction finishes you ask in a quiet voice if there’s a cat outside still—relieved when a customer confirms they’d seen one lounging about.
Halfway through your shift, your cat friend disappears from the view of the window, and a small panic sets in. You notice as you’re taking an order for a couple of guests, two people who can’t seem to settle on their decision and keep talking over each other as they tell you what they want. They aren’t the type of people to inquire about the cat outside, especially since it seems as though they’ve popped into the coffee shop for an afternoon pick-me-up to help settle some of their irritation. Yet as you speak with them, and punch in their order, you can’t help your eyes darting off to the side now and again to try and peek around them and out the window.
“Can you take over the register for a bit?” You ask of your coworker almost as soon as the two chatty, indecisive guests walk away. You don’t wait for them to reply—considering they always drop the same on you without warning. It’s rare of you to return the “favor,” but you don’t feel guilty doing so.
As you move around the counter, you grab a tray and a cleaning rag in order to clean some tables, eyes never leaving the window as you do so.
“Was that your cat? The one outside?” Your coworker asks, scoffing. “Should take better care of it.”
You scowl, eyes snapping back to your coworker, who shrinks in surprise at the ferocity of your gaze. “No it’s not. It’s a stray that followed me, and I’m worried.” As you turn away from them, you grumble under your breath, “You have a nasty habit of assuming the worst of people.”
As you near the window, searching for the black furry shadow outside, your eyes are so fixated you barely register the door of the shop opening and the lackluster greeting being called out by your coworker. In fact, you’re so out of it that, as you move, you practically stumble straight into a wall of body that had just entered the shop. You stumble back in surprise, realizing that you’ve almost walked straight into a customer, glancing up to apologize—and blanching when you realize it’s Juyeon.
“S-sorry!”
Juyeon smiles in greeting. “It’s fine,” he answers, before glancing over his shoulder outside, then back down at you. “Are you okay?”
“I— yeah… I just—” You frown. “Nevermind, it’s nothing. What can I get for you today?” Sparing one last glance at the window, you move back toward the counter, eyeing your coworker as they move away and disappear, refusing as always to take the young warlock’s order.
“Can I sit at the bartop today?” Juyeon asks, trailing after you. You glance over your shoulder at him in surprise, before nodding.
“Let me take your order and then you can take a seat.”
“I’d like a mochachino today.”
You punch in the order, looking at him in surprise. “Chocolate?”
Juyeon smiles that soft smile that always seems to leave you winded and out of breath. “Craving something sweet, but I’ve got some work to do, so I need something that will keep me awake, too.”
You nod, letting out a hum of understanding from the back of your throat. When you read the total off to him, Juyeon pays the appropriate amount, and you wave him to the bartop just to the left of the cash register. His presence at the bartop is almost certain to keep your coworker from ever returning to the front of house, so you silently hope that no sudden rush comes through the cafe as you set to work making his drink.
“Why did you seem so distracted when I came in earlier?” Juyeon asks, tone of voice idle. You glance over your shoulder, away from the espresso machine, in surprise when he speaks. Had he always been this chatty? Although, to be fair, Juyeon always came in during the morning rushes and you never had a chance to actually talk to him.
You aren’t sure what really catches you by surprise—the fact that he’s making conversation with you, or the fact that his deep voice has caused your heart to begin a rapid and stuttering beat in your chest. Yet, somehow, despite your nervousness to be talking to a young man you’d always admired from your own little corner of the coffee shop, and how he gazed out the window and watched the world in silent content and admiration, and offered up sweet and soft smiles to everyone around him—his voice also fills you with a warmth that’s almost soothing. Like the familiar smell of the coffee grounds that waft through the shop daily, then later cling to the strands of your hair when you get home. It feels familiar.
“Are you really okay?” He asks, prompting again.
“I’m fine. I was just worried… there was a cat outside. It followed me to and from work yesterday and today, and now that it’s getting busy I’m wondering where it went off to and if it’s okay. I feel responsible even though it might be a stray that just followed me for its own amusement,” you explain as you work.
When you finish Juyeon’s order, you turn and set it on the counter in front of him. He smiles, as always, and takes it with a polite and soft thank you, before leveling you with his gaze.
When his eyes land on you, almost instantly you feel your heart seize up in your chest. You’ve never been this close to Juyeon before—never actually gotten a good look at him up close. His features from afar are stunning; he’s handsome in a very simple way that’s easy on the eyes. But up close, it’s almost as if he’s crafted from marble. You’ve never had a chance to admire his sharp features; study the lines of his jaw and his high-placed cheekbones, notice the square shape of his earlobes, or admire his long and straight nose or the way his lips curl upward slightly at the corners.
“Cats are street smart, you know. I’m sure your little stray friend is fine. They probably know these streets better than the both of us,” Juyeon replies, “And luckily for them, people in this town are a little kinder to stray cats than other types of strays.”
It’s then that you meet his gaze, catching on to a deeper implication of his words—studying his almond-shaped brown eyes and taking note of the curious amber flecks that hit the warm yellow light of the cafe just right.
“No way,” you breathe out.
Juyeon smiles—and this time, his smile isn’t the usual soft and kind one, but one that pushes his cheeks up in a way that causes his eyes to smile along with the rest of his face. He seems much too amused by the realization setting across your face, followed by a flush that follows soon after. You’d ranted and rambled about Lee Juyeon to Lee Juyeon—albeit not the human one.
You’d heard that some witches and warlocks could shapeshift, and that others had familiars. Never once in your life did you think you’d somehow be on the receiving end of that gift. Of course, it made sense, considering the treatment around town that Juyeon often received—that he’d either hide in another form or test the honesty of those he interacted with in a different form.
Juyeon lifts his coffee cup to his lips, smiling over the rim. “Can I walk you home tonight? Perhaps this time not as a cat? I’d love to hear you regale one of your lavish tales of me.”
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
ᥫ᭡ | one piece men & romance
VOL. 1 ⸻ ❛ worst generation edition ❜
➩ the best words to describe a romantic relationship with LUFFY, ZORO, KID, KILLER, LAW, and X DRAKE.
⤷ contains cliché, lots of love and just a little suggestiveness.
〚 VOL. 2 ⸻ ❛ yonko + legends edition ❜ 〛
✧ — monkey d luffy
innocence and naturalness. luffy loves you deeply, without backward thinking or judgement. his love is natural, spontaneous, just like him. he will never let you down and will be the right person to brighten up your days. he is cuddly (sometimes too much so, in public) and loves physical contact. he has no problem sharing everything with you (except for his food, of course) and all that could really make him happy is to complete his dream at your side
✧ — roronoa zoro
complicity and courage. zoro needs complicity in a relationship, he needs to be able to understand you with just an exchange of glances. your relationship, in order to last, requires a lot of courage from both of you. it takes a lot of courage to establish good communication, trust and a good foundation in a couple. but when he's with you, zoro feels that flame he's always had in his heart, grow and turn into a blaze. nothing could make him more courageous than your presence in his life
✧ — eustass kid
passion and hardness. love in its primal state. there is little love as devastating and powerful as kid's love. he doesn't love lightly, gently and tenderly. he loves passionately, deeply and unfortunately painfully. he doesn't realise the consequences of his actions on you or the depth of his feelings for you. and this can cause a lot of pain and sorrow. he cares for you as if you were the apple of his eye, but he rarely shows it and doesn't care about communication and that sort of thing
✧ — killer
trust and communication. to start any relationship with this man, he will have to trust you a little, and even more to reveal his face and his weaknesses. when he does, it means that he sincerely thinks that you will be part of his life for a long time. killer is good at communication, at understanding what others feel, and this helps him for your relationship. he will always take seriously what you want to tell him and will pay special attention to your expressions. He is a private man, so never hesitate to show him all the love you have for him, as long as it is just the two of you.
✧ — trafalgar law
freedom and patience. it takes a long time for law to accept you in his life. he is, at first, rather selfish, thinking only about his own crew and his own goal. he does it only for his own emotional security. but when you take more space in his life, law becomes more accessible, even if it takes a lot of time and patience for you to understand that law needs freedom, that it is his way to be at peace. so, as long as you're not too clingy, or invasive, he will accept you by his side, and in exchange, he'll always be there for you. law is usually good at analyzing others, and that's pretty useful when he needs to talk to someone who has his heart. because yes, law steals other people's hearts, but the only person who can take his is you.
✧ — x drake
longevity and stability. being in a romantic relationship with drake is going to be a lot of fun. this man is very quick to be annoyed and distracted by your presence. you make him blush with a simple smile, with simple words, so let's not talk about the times he sees and touches your soft skin in more intimate moments. drake is a simple man, and is not looking to create problems or put his relationship in danger by behaving badly with you. he is looking to keep you away from his turbulent life, so that you are not put in danger by his fault. all he wants, when his mission is over, is to be able to live a more honest life, one that he can complete by your side.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (open) @gwedosuns + @lolli-ace + @issatheartist + @cherrykamado + @lawscorazon + @tsunderedoctor + @thewanderinglunarian + @manycreates + @ochizokulevy + @missbeckman
© 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. — all rights reserved. do not repost on any platform.
#[🪶] m.writes#one piece writing#one piece x reader#one piece reader insert#one piece imagine#luffy x reader#zoro x reader#eustass kid x reader#killer x reader#trafalgar law x reader#drake x reader#x drake one piece#vol. 2 next week#op vol. 1
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Reader
a little drabble about sweet, soft-spoken Giyuu telling you to cum on his cock ♡
warnings: smut 18+ only!! minors dni [dirty talk, creampie]
wc: 800
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚* 💙 *˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
Giyuu Tomioka is calm most of the time. His voice is soft; he's hardly one to curse in everyday conversation unless he's upset, then the profane words leave him with a sternness that has whoever's on the receiving end rethinking their actions.
He can be a bit harsh when angry, but he's never like that with you. Even if you're having a disagreement, he refrains from using phrases that could hurt you — which is why when Giyuu does say such words, you never want him to stop.
"Fuck…” his voice drops an octave from behind you.
It's just past noon, and with his tasks done by early morning, he returned home to be with you. Now, he’s pressing his bare skin against yours while he helps you to your knees, settling you into the third position of the day. Pressing your back into his chest, Giyuu wraps his strong arms around you, holding you in place with one resting on your tits; and the other resting on your hip.
“You’re always so good for me,” he murmurs from behind you, his stiff length gliding against your silken folds, spreading your wetness as he kisses the shell of your ear, reaching down to grab ahold of himself.
“Always so good for this fucking cock,” He rasps while pushing into you.
The stretch of his dick feels delectable, and even if the two of you have been going at it for a while, the sensation never gets old. Giyuu fills you up so much you can feel it in your belly — and the only thing you can think to do is moan, let your body melt against his as you focus on how thick he is, your lower half jolting forward every time his pelvis smacks against your ass, your skin left sticky from the translucent ring of white at the base of his dick — what a mess he’s made of you already.
“Your pussy is so wet too. Do you hear it? Hear how good I’m fucking your little cunt?” he sighs from beside you, his lips near your temple as his hand rests on your neck, feeling the vibration of your voice against it.
“Fuck yes…feels so good,” you whine. “S-so fucking good,”
The sounds you draw from each other are obscene, wet slaps of skin and moans unrelenting as your back begins to curve, Giyuu’s name falling from your lips as you clench around him. That's when he knows you're close — when you breathlessly whine his name like it’s a sacred word.
With his thrusts unfaltering, he speeds up, pushing the heavy head of his dick against your g-spot while bringing two callused fingers down to your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight circles until your eyes can no longer stay open, tears prickling behind your lids as your body grows stiff.
"There we go, baby. Cum on my cock, cum on my fucking cock," The low tone of his voice drives you insane, and as Giyuu continues to whisper vulgarities, the muscles in your stomach tighten, the walls of your cunt squeezing around his length as heat blooms through your body.
Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, and as his cock coats in your slick, his hips begin to stutter, a groan spilling from the back of his throat as he shoots his load into you. Only stilling for a few seconds, he lets you enjoy the warmth of him filling your insides before pulling out, allowing the remnants of cum to leak from your pussy as it clenches in the aftermath of pleasure, heavy globs of white spilling onto the sheets below you.
Disheveled, Giyuu's arms stay wrapped around you as you melt against him. His soft lips press to your jawline while you relish in serenity, catching your breath before you adjust positions — avoiding the mess you've made as you lie down facing one another.
You smile as he brings you closer to him, your fingers brushing his hair out of his face as you look up at him and ask, "Oh yeah, didn’t you say you had something for me earlier?”
And like always, Giyuu returns to his soft-spoken nature, responding with a nod as he remembers the small gift he carried back for you.
“Oh, you’re right, yeah. I brought you some of that daifuku you like. Would you like me to go get it?" His upper body shifts to get up, but you stop him, placing a hand on his bicep.
"No, it's okay," you softly chuckle, "We can have some later. Let's just lie down for now," you can feel his muscles relax as he settles back down — his arm draped across your waist as you cuddle up to him, where in the soothing silence he begins tracing delicate patterns against your skin.
・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
— please do not modify or repost my work
Wow, I have not written smut in a while! But hopefully, this was alright. I really wanted to have it posted by today since it's Giyuu's birthday! Thanks for reading :)
#kny smut#giyuu tomioka x reader#kny x reader#tomioka giyuu x reader#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#giyu tomioka x reader#giyuu x reader#💗giyuu#☁️kny#🌹spicy stuff#mp#m.writes
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
"Might Be an Understatement" | Robert "Bob" Floyd
this fic is race/ hair type/ body type neutral; why does that matter? If you feel I’ve overlooked something in regard to this, no matter how “small”, please let me know!
word count | 2.8k
warnings/ notes | 18+, smut; rope bondage, blindfolds, toys, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, spanking, me spreading the service top Bob agenda, cmnf if you squint, masochistic reader/ sadistic Bob if you squint. just... there's a lot.
the culmination of this obsession is me finally writing fic again after like 6 years. hate to see it.
also this was a working title but I've yet to come up with anything better sorry!
ao3
minors please respect my wishes and do not interact with my work/ blog.
Bob presses small kisses to the back of your neck and you drop your chin to your chest, groaning softly as practiced fingers work deeper into the muscles of your shoulders. Warm hands grip you and you can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine as they start to roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, the tops of your thighs; exploring you like it’s the first time.
He leans in close to whisper against the column of your throat, the cool metal of his glasses against your heated skin making you gasp.
“I'm gonna take care of you tonight. You gonna let me?” You nod and a slight gasp passes your lips, both at the words themselves and at the breath that whispers against your skin.
He pulls away to reach behind you, one hand remaining on your waist as he opens the bedside drawer with the other. You hear him rummage around for a bit, smiling to yourself when you hear the telltale thap of rope on the carpeted floor.
"This okay sweetheart?", he asks, brushing another kiss to the side of your neck. You hum your assent.
"Alright then; arms behind your back."
You do as he says, reaching to grab your opposite elbow in each hand and he begins binding them together. The rope scratches lightly against your skin; enough for you to know it’s there but not enough to be irritating or distracting.
One hand comes to rest at the base of your throat, squeezing lightly and you lean into the touch, humming contentedly. Before you can drift too far, Bob pulls you flush to him, his warmth seeping into you as his body envelops yours. He reaches under your arms to pass the rope under your breasts, looping it around and around, fingers lightly grazing your nipples with each pass.
He works maddeningly, torturously slow, intentional in his movements as always; sliding the rope back and forth across your skin, making sure you feel each and every drag.
Lifting your chin to face him, he places a small peck to your lips and you smile. Knowing how much he likes to tease (and not knowing when you’ll get another chance), you clumsily surge forward to deepen the kiss. He indulges you for a moment, sliding his tongue against yours before pulling away with a lopsided smile.
“You alright there darlin’?” he asks. While the kiss had been relatively chaste, it was always easy to get lost in the way Bob kisses you and you’re already panting a little.
He slides a few fingers underneath the rope caging your ribs, ostensibly to test the knots and make sure they aren’t too tight, but his touch lingers a bit too long for it to be just that.
Placing a broad hand on your back, he guides you forward until you’re comfortably on your shoulders and knees, placing a pillow for you to rest your head on before resuming his work.
By the time he gets to your legs, he’s given up all pretense of “just testing the knots here”, and the gentle, teasing touches have given way to firm, brazen squeezes as he binds your calves to your thighs. With a firm grip, he slowly pulls your knees apart, spreading you open to him and you shudder as the cool air ghosts over your exposed cunt.
"How you doin’ darlin’?" he asks, mostly to check in, but you don’t miss how his voice drops when he says it.
"Would be doing a lot better if you would actually touch me already." You turn to shoot him a fake sweet smile over your shoulder. Unfazed, he returns your smile and gleefully pinches your ass, hard, chuckling at your yelp.
"I have been touching you. And I meant your hands, smart ass. No tingling or numbness right?" He’s still smiling but there’s a tinge of worry in his voice. He knows you’d tell him if something was wrong, but he always makes it a point to check anyway, just in case.
"They're fiiiine" You huff, wiggling them to demonstrate. "Bobby, come on.”
"You know, you’re pretty demanding for someone in your position." He says, pinching your other cheek before hooking his fingers into the rope binding your forearms and jerking you up and into his solid chest.
“I think if I were you, I’d be a little more… agreeable.”
“Bobby,” you whine, growing impatient with his teasing. You’d already been feeling needy before, and you know if you left it up to him he’d just spend the whole night kissing and teasing you, torturing you and keeping you just on the edge.
“Something you want honey?” he murmurs, drawl creeping out as he slides his lips against yours again. This kiss is decidedly much less chaste, and the way his tongue meets yours makes you dizzy.
“I think you know exactly what I want, Robert.” you quip, but you both know there's no bite to it.
“‘Robert’ huh? Must mean I better get to it then.”
“Mmhmm, think so.”
You mean for it to sound less breathy than it does, but he takes this opportunity to drag his fingers over your clit, the grin from earlier returning when you gasp against his mouth.
He gives the rope holding your wrists together one final tug before stepping back to admire his handiwork.
His hands glide along your skin as he circles you, taking in the ropes crisscrossing around your chest, binding your arms, all framing your body beautifully and his tongue sneaks out to wet his lips. The shaky breath is the only thing that betray his otherwise calm demeanor and you smirk to yourself, glad to know he’s at least a little affected by this too.
Seemingly satisfied with his inspection, he moves around to face you and for a moment he just stands there, beaming at you. He kind of looks like an actual Boy Scout; like the Bob all his friends know, sweet and unassuming. In an instant that smile is gone, replaced by the self satisfied smirk that you only see in private moments like this.
"You can't escape."
With how securely you're bound that’s pretty clear, and any other time you would tease him for stating something so obvious, but right now his words make your stomach flip with anticipation.
He leans in closer, deep blue eyes boring into yours, daring you to look away. “You like that? Like bein’ all tied up for me, knowin' you can’t escape? Knowin' I can do whatever I want to you?”
“God yes,” you whimper.
His gaze feels heavy as his eyes rove up and down your body before he moves out of your line of sight again.
“Close your eyes for me darlin’.” he murmurs lowly, back behind you a moment later.
The soft whisper of fabric grazes your cheek before your vision goes dark as Bob quickly secures the blindfold with a simple knot.
“How's that feel?” he asks, placing a kiss to your temple.
You only manage a small “Good”, not trusting yourself to say anything more with how your voice wavers.
Deft fingers run up the insides of your thighs as he teases your lips apart. He presses a soft kiss to your slit as his thumb sneaks up to circle your clit and you keen against his mouth.
“And this? How’s this feel?” he murmurs lowly.
“Good, huh- uh. Also good.”
"Been wantin' to get my mouth on you all day," he mumbles into your skin, emphasizing his point with a long, slow lick. The grip on your thighs tightens as he moves to tease his thumbs slowly along your lips, smearing your slick around and making you whimper and squirm against his mouth.
“Be patient,” he chuckles, the vibrations only making you squirm even more.
You thought you’d been quiet enough, but of course he notices, because he’s Bob and he notices everything.
He slides his hands up your stomach and broad, warm palms cup your breasts, fingers grazing the rope as he lightly thumb over your pert nipples. For your part, you're helpless to do much else besides try to muffle your moans and squirm against his firm hold.
“Sound so pretty darlin’. Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me.” he says, words muffled as his tongue sinks deeper and deeper into you.
He’s fucking relentless now, lapping at you obscenely, grip tight on the meat of your thighs, keeping you place with seemingly little effort any time you move too much for his liking. Your toes curl when his nose bumps against your clit, unable to do anything but gasp and whine as he steadily brings you higher and higher, muscles straining uselessly against your bonds.
“You close? You gonna cum all over my face baby?”
“Y-yeah, m’close, ugh, fuck Bobby so close,” you practically sob as your legs start to shake.
“Tell me what you need.”
“I need- fuck, Bobby just– please make me cum.”
You’re struggling to get breath into your lungs, tears springing in your eyes as you beg.
“Tell me what you need,” he says again, starting to withdraw.
“Fuck, Bobby, I don’t know! Just- spank me?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Spank me. Please.”
Before you can even finish getting the words out you feel a sharp sting against your ass; the sound surprises you more than the sensation and you yelp.
He leans in close to ask, “How’s that? You want it harder baby?”, kissing the side of your temple when you nod.
The second one isn’t particularly hard either, it’s not meant to be, but he isn’t gentle either as he starts a steady rhythm of hits in quick succession; too fast for you to register one before the next lands, purposefully avoiding the pattern he knows you’re looking for.
"You’re doing so well honey. Just a few more okay?”
Calloused fingers slip back between your legs and over your clit and you arch back into him, desperate for whatever he's willing to give you. You feel like a bow string pulled taught, breath ragged, on the verge of snapping at any moment. You press your forehead to the pillow and gasp as your orgasm crashes over you, punching a long, low moan from your lungs.
He works you through it with small kitten licks, and for a moment he’s silent, save for the quiet curses under his breath.
He stills you with one hand on the nape of your neck as you tremble in a way that might’ve been embarrassing if you weren’t so completely blissed out on dopamine. His other hand hasn’t stopped, though, fingers still coaxing you through your high and you’re dimly aware of the fact that he’s definitely not finished with you.
"Still doin’ okay darlin’?” he murmurs, lightly stroking the back of your neck and pressing your fingertips between his, no doubt checking to make sure the blood rushes back. You’d honestly kind of forgotten about the ropes and pull yourself out of your haze enough to mumble some affirmation, picturing his worried face behind your blindfold.
“‘Okay’ might be a bit of an understatement.” You pant, voice muffled by the pillow, still trying to steady your breathing.
This is apparently enough to reassure him, because he redoubles his previous efforts and presses even harder against your oversensitive clit.
“In that case," he says, quickening his strokes as you roll your hips.
"I want another one.”
You feel the blunt drag of his fingers against your walls and your eyes roll back when they find that spot inside you, stroking slowly. The hard grip on your waist is the only warning you get before he flips you onto your back, your bound knees splaying out to the side, exposing your soaked cunt even more.
“Are your arms okay?” You nod quickly, and this is the only confirmation he needs before sliding his fingers even deeper.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous like this, darlin',” he mutters, reaching to cup your face in his hand before lightly gripping your chin and capturing your lips for another slow kiss.
“Now let’s see how much more you can take.”
You hear him open the bedside drawer open again and while you're pretty sure you know what's coming next, you still can't help the shiver that races up your spine when you hear the unmistakable buzz of your Hitachi. When his fingers find you again he groans at the realization that you’re somehow even wetter than you were before. You don’t get to savor the feeling for long before he pulls away, his fingers immediately replaced by the head of the toy to your overly sensitive clit.
“Fuck, Bobby!”
He doesn’t turn it up immediately, that’s a game for another night, but he doesn't apply a light touch either. Your thighs snap closed around his hand but it does nothing to deter him; he simply adjusts the angle of his wrist, leaning up to place a kiss on your cheek as he nudges the toy up against your clit before fitting the fingers of his other hand inside you again.
It feels like his hands are everywhere; he keeps the toy pressed firmly against your clit while one hand moves to pinch and roll your nipple and you keen, already on the edge, the beginning of another orgasm starting low in your belly.
“Fuck, Bobby. please—” you’re nearly incoherent at this point, shaking.
Your hips jerk away from his touch when he finally does what you ask, fingers sinking into your heat again.
"Jesus honey, fuckin’ look at you," he says in awe and you moan, high and breathy, trying to press your hips further into his touch.
Bob typically isn't particularly sadistic in bed (not unless you ask him to be), but it’s undeniable how much me loves wringing every ounce of pleasure from your body, even if that means torturing you a little to get it.
Finally he relents, giving you a small, merciful moment of peace before asking quietly,
“Too much sweetheart? Or do you want more?”
You contemplate for a moment before answering.
"Yes. And yes."
He pauses a moment before chuckling. “‘Yes’ it’s too much and ‘yes’ you want more?”
“Yeah,” you sigh.
"S'okay babydoll, I gotcha," he chuckles.
His teeth lightly tease your nipples and you arch your back and lean into his touch, the moan that tears from you only egging him on further. The sensation runs through you like lightning, shaking you to your core.
“Love it when you get all desperate like this for me, you have no idea,” He groans.
The light brush of calloused fingers against your nipples makes you shiver as his hands make their way back up your body and he squeezes again, twisting and pulling until you start to feel those familiar, wonderful sparks of pain. When you gasp he swallows your moans, pulling your hips flush to his and lazily sliding his tongue into your mouth.
He holds nothing back this time, kissing you with unhurried ease, thumbs stroking the skin below your ears and you part your lips, more than happy to let him in. The gesture is sweet but the sensation is quickly becoming too much and you’re distantly aware of the fact that you’re cumming a split second before it actually hits you.
“Come on baby, make a mess for me.” The sweetness of his tone doesn’t betray the fact that it’s still a command. Combined with the ruthless attention he's laving your nipples with and the way he jerks the toy right up against your clit it turns out to be exactly what you need to finally push you off the edge and you let out an especially loud moan and finally, finally feel yourself fall.
He removes the blindfold and you blink a few times, letting your eyes adjust as you come back down. He's quiet again, waiting for you to process and speak first.
“That was uh… wow,” You say his name as a sigh and he smiles, leaning up to brush his nose against yours.
“Good?” and you can’t help but laugh. The man had, seconds ago, made you cum so hard you saw stars, yet here he is, pushing his glasses back up his nose, blush creeping over his cheeks, somehow worried you hadn’t been satisfied. You move up to press a light kiss to his cheek and inch your way into his side as he drapes an arm over your shoulder.
“‘Good’ might be an understatement." You smile up at him as you repeat your earlier sentiment.
You already feel sleep tugging at you and you let your eyes slip shut, just for a second, promising to return the favor when you wake.
#robert bob floyd#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#robert floyd smut#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#cannot express how little I want my mutuals to read this :)#if you see me posting self indulgent fic no you didn't#also this wasn't meant to be a kinktober entry but I'll pretend it was intentional and not because I write slow#this was literally 6k+ before I cut it so.#anyway obligatory#bobfucks#bob floyd smut#m.writing#m.txt#bob floyd x black!reader#robert bob floyd x black!reader#bf#my writing
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Idk why I'm thinking a bit about Ex!Oliver, where you dated and it just wasn't really the right time, and he definitely wasn't ready, but after some time passes, you bump into each other, and he's… no, you should not fall for him again, you heard the rumors, but he's so damn charming as always.
In some ways he's the same-- he's got the same eyes, he's still easygoing, he's still charming.
But you definitely notice a difference. He's always been handsome, but he's even more so. He's always been taller and bigger than most, but he seems even more so. His smile was always big and bright, but now he has really perfected the crooked grin that infuriates you with how attractive it is.
But no, it can't happen. What happened in the past, should stay in the past. It doesn't matter that he says he's changed, it doesn't matter that he looks at you with those eyes with longing, it doesn't matter that his touch lingers and it feels electric. And you tell him that it can't happen, despite the pang in your heart. It'll pass, you tell yourself.
But it seems he has changed. And he's changed for the better. He seems ready. But you can't risk it.
But that doesn't stop you from sleeping with him one time, and it just proves that he's not forgotten the way your body reacts, nor what turns you on. And it seems he's just so much more sure of himself with you, his actions are certain. The way he hooks his finger inside and drives you wild, the way he devours you. The way his cock seems to be snug and perfect for you, the way his body fits against yours. It makes both your heads spin. With every thrust, you both slowly unravel. He groans when your walls squeeze around him, he says your name in that breathy whisper that just makes you weak. "Fuck, I missed this so fucking much. No one else gets me like this." He fucks into you like you're his only source of life.
Reasoning and logic are gone at this point, he's just taking this opportunity to make up for all those years he's been away from you. You're crying out for his name, but he's struggling.
Even when he cums and feels so sensitive, he can't bear to separate for you. He's missed you so much, he's been waiting for so long, and if it's the last chance he has, he'll make the most of it.
#oliver x reader#oliver aiku x reader#~) m.writes (~#this is a blurb in my mind#anyway#don't mind me#oliver aiku smut#(kinda)
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii monty <3 i have a question in regards to writing if that’s okay with you!
so i’ve been in a writing slump for about almost a year, simply because i’ve had trouble on how to come up with a precise structure to write, which after overthinking about it for ages made me procrastinate to the point of not even continuing. for example with dialogue and description of surroundings, do you tend to write out entirely and in detail what the characters are going to say exactly (as in maybe bulletpoint their lines first?) or how a scene is set up, or do you only have a rough idea and come up with it on the spot and continue on like that?
i’m so sorry if this is too long or too complicated to answer :/ my procrastination is just kicking my own ass terribly even though i really wanna continue, my own setup (or lack thereof lmao) just really frustrates me
thank you so much anyway!! i genuinely lovee your writing and each new post of yours is so enjoyable 🩷🩷
hello sweetheart!! it’s absolutely okay to ask me stuff like this. I’m sorry it took me a little time to answer. I wanted to get my brain cells together lmao
allow me to be honest: I’ve been there!!! I understand just how disheartening a slump can be. but I reallllly think (from what you’ve said here) you’re expecting yourself to run before you can walk. you’re being too hard on yourself. immediate perfection isn’t required. it doesn’t have to be amazing!! so what helps me is to just let my mind have total creative freedom ^-^; give yourself permission to just get the words down, be it in bullet points or just randomly scribbling your ideas somewhere. be messy!! leave dots like this (…) where you think dialogue should be, or notes to your future self like (add x y here). stop seeking structure as you are right now. get things down. get excited about the stories you envision!!!
I mentioned before that my outlines are a mess too lool. that’s bc when I think up something I’ll tunnel vision and type it up in bullet points before I forget!! expecting yourself to write out everything in total detail or to find one size fits all solution will only hinder you. a lot of my mutuals will write and post random drabbles (usually for a warm up) totally out of context sometimes! you don’t need a starting and a finishing line. I skip scenes alllllll the time;; I know it’s easier said than done but if I’m in a writer slump and I have exhausted other options (like stepping away from current WIPS, focusing on other hobbies, making web weaves, listen to music etc etc) all I can recommend is to just. write. and let yourself be bad* at it
(*bad writing is subjective)
#asks#I rambled sorry. sometimes I get spooked when people come to me about this kinda thing#<- /lh#bc I’m aware of how my brain works and that this might not even help you#but I hope it atleast convinced you to stop constricting yourself#I want you to have fun!!!!#you are not a failure and you will write again!#m.writing
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
↬ 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
abstract — steve professes his love for you then disappears for three months. what happens when he returns?
pairing — steve rogers x fem!reader
wc — 2.7k
warnings — 18+ DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR, heavy smut, daddy kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), cockwarming if u squint, cussing, angst, fluff.
[m blabs] — howdy howdy! this is for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes , and @amythedvdhoarder hoelentine’s fic swap! sorry this is a day late pls dont come for me and i did not proof read this so i apologize for future readers suffering thank u
my giftee was one of the insanely talented writers on this app — @donutloverxo ! hope you like it berry! <3
It had been months since you’d seen him. An undercover mission taking longer than originally thought left you feeling lonelier to your own surprise. You blamed it how the two of you left things unresolved. Out in the open, all of his feelings laid out on a silver platter for you to take.
All of it. Steve, his love, the moment of words you’d dreamed of him saying — it was too real. Too unimaginable to believe. He always is.
You’d never really had someone you who went out of their way everyday to make you feel loved and Steve did. Truly, you should have seen it sooner. The consistency of his adoration and loyalty blew the limits of platonic friendship. Not until, he was nearly crying, choked up by his own words did you realize just how much it ran deep within him.
The words he spoke to you were still echoing in the forefront of your mind, not letting you breath for a moment. Were you really in love with him just as much as he was with you? It was hard to believe just because Steve was so far out of reach. Especially for you.
Watching his beautiful shade of cerulean, bright and beaming with hope, wanting nothing more than to for you to see him. Leaving him the impression that you didn’t cut the two of you deep. Your answer was hesitant, full of caution. Exactly the opposite for what he was yearning for.
Now, just like you had done for the past couple of weeks, you found yourself waiting in the tower for him. You lingered around no matter how many times Tony told you they would let you know when he was home safely. It didn’t stop you from coming, though.
Even if you knew it would be even longer until you would get to finish the conversation with him, being her helped you feel more at ease. Plus, no one’s besides Tony had the guts to try and make you leave.
Natasha and Sam were the only ones who didn’t really question it. Ever since you met Steve, you were here so often but they just so happened to be walking down the hall when he confessed exactly how wide his affection ran for you.
As they watched you linger in the tower, even if the outcome had been different than Steve wanted or expected, Sam and Nat were starting to see just how much you cared for him.
Natasha was the one to catch you silently sleeping in one of his sweatshirts cuddled up into his sheets. Thankfully, still smelling like him just enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber.
Then, Sam caught you peeking at the framed picture of the two of you sitting on his desk, the only one which did. Admiring the way you let your fingers drift around the wooden frame, endearingly. Internally, continuing to fight this inner battle within you.
“If it makes it any easier, I’m sure he misses you just as much.” You peaked up at the tone of Wilson’s voice, making his presence known. He walked over to you, watching as you continued to look at the photo.
Your smile wide at your college graduation, ball and gown, wearing a dress you knew Steve liked with his arms wrapped around your waist in a truly candid moment, one you’d forgotten about. The picture more than likely buried so deep within your phone with the countless others you had taken of and with him.
“I wish it did, but it doesn't really. Just wish I knew he was okay. I worry a bit too much, I think.” You spoke softly, halfway speaking to Sam but you mostly just spoke to yourself. “I never knew he kept this photo of us here.” Your touch finally disconnects from the sturdy frame.
“He really thinks too sweetly of me.” Standing in his office, surrounded by all of his belongings made it so much harder for you to cut ties like you had originally wanted to do. “Really? Couldn’t tell by how he talks about you constantly.”
“Oh my god, Sam.” You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your tummy, but anytime Steve was mentioned it seemed to be an effect he only seemed to pull from you. “What? C’mon, all of us know he was planning on telling you how he felt before Bucky and him left.”
Well, it seemed the embarrassment only seemed to continue.
“All of you, even Tony?” You asked him, even if you knew the answer. You just wanted the attention off you. “Especially Tony. Why do you think he’s been more of a smartass lately?” It made sense, but it did nothing to calm the nerves threatening to boil over.
“I guess I’m just having a hard time believing everyone knew how he felt, but me. I just never thought he would ever feel this way again, about anyone, after Peggy. She was the love of his life and it’s not something I couldn’t possibly measure up to.” You stopped looking at the picture, feeling sick to your stomach.
“With all of what he’s told me, I’ll always feel second best to her because I know just as everyone else if he could still have her he would.” You saw the sketch one time, when he left it open on the counter. It wasn’t really like you to snoop, but you couldn’t help it one day and you did.
Page after page, it was all of Peggy. Any feelings you were harboring for him at the time were thrown to the wind. Because then, you knew. Now matter how important you were to him now, you would always be in the shadow of his first love. The one that got away from him.
“What makes you think that?” Tears were starting to surface and you couldn’t handle it, the worst of your insecurities creeping in.
“Just ask to look at his compass next time you see him.” But you knew what was there. You didn’t need yet another painful reminder of it. “Why would I torture myself like that, Sam?”
“Trust me. You may be surprised.” You highly doubt you would be, so why even try?
The party was in full swing by the tie you arrived. The tower was full with more people than usual as you stepped in, watching as everyone enjoyed themselves. You were hesitant to even come to Natasha’s celebration at all.
You hadn’t been here since your conversation with Sam. Just a little too worried Steve might catch you lingering in his home and sleeping in his clothes. It was something the both of you did, but now with his feelings laying out in the open it seems so much more intimate than before.
Just as you were about to head towards the bar area, where everyone was, you left a large find your own grabbing your attention.
“Hi, sweetheart.” His velvety, smooth voice makes you melt just like it always does. It didn’t register for a second, just who you were talking to and when you did he was in for it.
“Stevie!” You leaped into his arms, too shocked to mask your sheer excitement as your legs wrapped around his slim waist, letting yourself be caught by him.
“I missed you so much, honey.” His words clenching at your heart at the endearing nickname. You felt him sigh into you, one of relief.
“I missed you, too.” You mumbled while you were still clinging onto him like your life depended on it.
“As much as I want to catch up, I feel like we should talk about what happened before I left.” Already, your heart dropped into your chest.
“Stevie, it can’t wait. Don’t worry about it. Okay?” You tried to rub it off because even after all this time you still weren’t certain of the weight in his words.
You let yourself down, off of him, and tried to lead him in the direction of the party but he didn’t budge.
“Please, work with me here. I’m sure they all miss you and want to see you.” Now, you were just stalling and Steve could see it as clear as day.
“Sweetheart, please just stop for a minute.” He felt your hand fall as you crossed your arms over your chest passively.
“Please, Steve.” You pleaded with him and for a moment you just thought he might go with you until those dating words fell from his plump lips.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Those words effectively shut you up as Steve stepped closer to you.
“I think about if you love me as much as I’ve fallen in love with you.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to move as he edged closer to you.
“Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much I want to kiss those pouty lips of yours. How much I wanna claim you in every single way.” He was so close to you now, questioning how you were still breathing.
“Just tell me you don’t want this and I’ll go down to that party right now and pretend like this never happened.” When you were silent, looking anywhere but him, he got the hint.
You watched as he walked in the navy clad plants with a button up clinging to his narrow waist.
“Wait!” Even with your heels, you ran to him while he waited for you to catch up.
“Do you still carry your compass on you?” You questioned him with tears in your eyes he hadn’t noticed until now.
And it crushed him.
“Of course I do. Wait...Is this just another crack at how old I really am?” Maybe if you weren’t sure he had just crushed your heart with a single response you might’ve laughed.
“I know this is going to sound weird but can I see it?” Watching him reach for it in his right pocket, you noticed the crimson blush reaching his cheeks.
“I just-, how is this is going to change anything?” Watching him as he awkwardly fidgeted with the object in hand.
“I don’t think it will, but I just need to see it.” He handed it over and you held it for a moment before opening it and nothing could have prepared you for it.
Well, possibly Sam’s words if he had elaborated more.
“I-I know it’s kind of weird. I’m sorry I should have asked when I took that photo but you just looked so beautiful like always and I couldn’t help it. I can take it out if it creeps you out too much.” His words trailed off on a mumbling mess as he was afraid he scared you off.
Even more than before.
“I thought you said Peggy’s photo was in it. Wasn’t it?” This time you were the one getting closer as you pushed back the wet hair away from his face, probably from the shower he’d taken not long after he came back.
“She was, but then I fell in love with you.” He leaned into your touch as both of your hands cradled his face.
“You’re my person. My soulmate. My home. I used to be so angry for so long because I had lost everything I ever loved, but it was all just leading me here. Right in this moment with you.”
You could’ve died happy right then, because the man of your dreams was confessing just on how much he loved you, again.
“Steven Grant Rogers?” You watched as his eyebrows furrowed at the mention of his full name. “Don’t you ever stop loving me. Ever.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He needed nothing more until he was locking his lips with your own. Commanding dominance from the start, causing you to whimper in response.
His skillful tongue sliding into your mouth, causing you to moan even more when he picked you up carrying you into his bedroom.
Before you even realized it, he was recklessly threw you on his bed as he stripped himself down to his boxers. His washboard abs and bulging muscles on full display.
In a flash, he was right back on you worshipping your body, turning you into a moaning mess.
Hiking up your red silky dress until it rested on your hips, your pretty pussy glistening already and he had barely touched you.
Without warning, he slipped two fingers into your warm heat watching as your head flew back. “Oh fuck, daddy.”
The words went straight to his cock as he pumped his finger in and out of you, leaving you begging for me.
“Oh, you like when Daddy’s fucking you with his fingers?” You nodded, unable for anything but moaning his name while he added another finger in you. You're hips moving uncontrollably as he was eye level with you.
Using his free hand, he gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him. “I want you to look at me when you come, princess.” With one swift moment, his thumb rubbed over your clit and you lost it.
Hearing you cry out beneath him as he pushed you over, screaming out his name as he continued to fuck your through the high.
“I need to milk your cock, Daddy. I need you to fill me up with your fucking cum.” He threw his boxers to the wind as he let you maneuver yourself on top.
“C’mon, princess. Let me see you bounce on my cock. Show me how bad you need my cum.” You surely didn’t need to be told twice.
Grabbing his hard cock by the tip, before rubbing over the tip and a few times before letting yourself to sink down until you bottomed out.
“You’re so fucking big. Shit.” But Steve didn’t let you take a breather for a moment until he was fucking up into you. Letting you know who was in complete control.
Until your hands found his hips and you used all your strength to pull almost all the way off of him before sinking roughly on his cock.
“Shit, princess.” As you whimpered you pushed yourself to bounce on his cock, no matter how much pain came with pleasure.
“Look at those tits, princess. You’re so fucking hot fucking yourself on Daddy’s cock. Such a good girl.” But then he flipped over pulling himself out of you before manhandling you on all fours.
Smoothing a hand over your spine, “You’re being such a good girl for Daddy. Let me take care of you.” Wrapping his hand around his thick, cock before finding your slick lower lips.
Rubbing the tip of cock along your folds, watching your body tremble before him. “Daddy, please.” You whined like a spoiled brat, begging for attention.
He’d break you of that later.
But now? He cock was practically dying for a release.
He slowly pushed himself into you, watching as your ass inches towards him more. Then, he was slamming himself into you so roughly you couldn’t fucking breathe.
Grabbing you by the hips, he fucked into you like his life depended on it. Admiring you as you took everything you gave him. The second climax hits you more quickly than you thought.
Steve grabs wraps his arm around you, pulling you up with his cock still thrusting up inside you — chasing his own high.
“I’m going to need you to cum with me, princess.” As he fucked into, your chest against his own and as you heard the slapping of his balls hitting your ass.
“Daddy, I can’t. It’s too much.” You shook your head, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“Milk me, Sweetheart. I’m dying to fill you up baby. Let me cum in this tight pussy.” His fingers finding your clit, sending you over the edge.
“Yes. Jesus Christ. Don’t fucking stop.” He continued to fuck you senseless as you came.
“Shit, baby girl. I’m cumming.” Slamming himself hard than before as continued to fuck you into oblivion, his seed filling you up until you the both of you collapsed falling into his soft sheets.
The two of you just stayed there for a while with his cock buried deep beneath you. Soon, enough he pulled out leaving you empty.
He jumped out of bed before comping with a wet rag to clean you up, before pulling you into his chest.
“Okay, I think I might have a Daddy kink.” Making Steve laugh, slightly.
“Yeah, maybe just a little bit sweetheart, not that I’m complaining.”
#omfg this is so ROUGH#but i havent written in like 2 months#so at least we did it!#heck yeah :')#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans smut#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#stever rogers smut#steve rogers fan fiction#mcu fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers angst#m.writes#happyhoelentinesday2021
576 notes
·
View notes
Text
love equation ☽ minho
✦ genre: friends to lovers au, college au, fluff, slight angst
✦ description: minho’s ideas were dangerous but of course, as his best friend, you went along with them all. this one, however, could be dangerous for you. specifically your heart
✦ pairings: lee minho x reader
✦ word count: 11.5k
✦ warnings: mild language, slightly suggestive at points
✦ a/n: i decided i wanted to get back into writing fics and here is my first fic in three years! i’m a little bit rusty but i hope you all like it ♡
i.
“Ta-da! All done.” You smiled, taking a step back to admire the work you’d done. Small picture frames littered the walls of your new bedroom, stereotypical fairy lights decorating the empty space around it. It wasn’t night just yet, but you were excited to be able to lay down and see a recreation of the night sky on your ceiling.
However, as soon as you stopped hanging everything up, a sharp pain shot through your back. A shockwave of small pricks traveling from your lower back to above your shoulder blades. Suddenly everything seemed too much, the pain making you lightheaded.
Turning on your heels, you slowly walked out to your living room, plopping down on the couch and bringing both of your hands to your back. As much as you tried to massage out the pain, there was only so much your own reach could do.
Great, first day of college and you get hurt, you thought.
Just as you were about to text your best friend, Minho, to see if he had gotten settled in, you heard a knock at your door. Before you could ask who it is, the person at the other side sighed, “Don’t keep me waiting all day!” Speak of the devil, you thought as you continued the assault on your taut muscles.
“Door’s open!” You shout, maybe too loud, at Minho, watching as he flung open the door and looked around the room, eyes settling on you wincing in pain.
“First of all, lock your door! You don’t know what kind of creep can just walk in.”
Before he could continue you interrupted, “Like you just did?”
Minho raised his eyebrows almost to his hairline, “You’re the one that let me in!” There’s a slight pause before he continued on, his face now shifted to one of concern, “What happened to you?”
Leaning back so your head rested on the wall behind you, you groaned again, “I was hanging up picture frames in my bedroom and I must have pulled a muscle.” You winced as you sat up, hands continuing to massage your lower back. “Or multiple muscles.”
Sitting up caused you to get a full look at what Minho was wearing. A pair of black basketball shorts along with an old Metallica shirt that was a little too big on him settled on his frame. It was big enough to dip down in the front, showing his collarbones and the silver chain necklace that always hung around his neck. You knew these were his relaxed, “i-look-bad-but-i-don't-care” clothes, but why did he look so good?!
You found yourself staring at him and you tried to shake off the thoughts of finding your best friend that attractive but no one could deny that Lee Minho had always been one of the most attractive guys in your class.
Said man seemed to notice your eyes glazed over, because he suddenly appeared right in front of you, hand waving furiously across your face, “Hello? Earth to Y/N? Anyone in there?” He raised a hand, presumably to hit you on the head, but then quickly retracted it.
“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry I was just thinking about classes starting tomorrow.” You chuckled, wincing slightly as a shock ran up your back. Surely these thoughts would pass, they always did.
Minho moved around to sit next to you, smiling as he bounced up and down on your couch. “I’m so excited! My first class is choreography 101 and I heard the instructor made dances for all the big pop stars!” He leaned into you, looking up at the empty space. “Think of it. Taylor Swift, Harry Styles, Beyonce, I could be one of those people to make dances for them!” His arms outstretched before he whipped around to face you.
Suddenly you realized just how close you were, and you’ve been this close before but now you focused on how his eyes sparkled when he talked about the one thing he loved. You shook those thoughts away, seeing his bright smile and immediately countering with your own.
“That sounds great, Min! I’m sure you’ll be one of the best choreographers in the world.” Again, you shook off the intense beating of your heart and forced yourself not to let your eyes wander down to Minho’s lips. No matter how much it tempted you, you would resist.
“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend, you're required to say it.” He nudged your side, standing up and looking around once. “Your dorm is actually really cool, and you're lucky you don’t have a roommate.” Pausing, he looked at you, wiggling his eyebrows in a very mischievous and very Minho-like way. “You can bring guys over and not worry about thin walls.”
He knew you had never dated anyone before, much less had to worry about ‘thin walls’, yet he always used it tease you lightly. You had thought about dating before, but as you always countered back at him, you weren’t sure how it was supposed to work. Sure, people meet and they get together, but what happens after that? It was like some sort of mystery that you were way too skeptical to jump into.
“Maybe you’ll meet someone in your geeky science classes! You know, a cute chemist that can woo you with a love potion.” Minho waved his hand around as if he was holding a wand.
You rolled your eyes as his suggestion, yet the idea didn’t seem that bad. Maybe you could get your mind off of your newfound feelings for Minho (that were probably always there yet you refused to believe) and score yourself your first relationship.
“I guess that doesn’t sound that bad.” You said, standing up from the couch and stretching. The pain in your back had diminished somewhat, and you found yourself feeling somewhat liberated from the worries of freshman year.
“What are your classes tomorrow?” Minho backed up into the doorframe, waving hello to some of the people passing by.
“Uh, Chemistry Lab and English Lit.” You replied.
“Are we still going to have our monthly movie nights?” His voice sounded hopeful and you smiled gently at him.
You walked up to him in the doorway, reaching one hand up and ruffling his already tousled hair. “Of course, Min. You’re only a building away now so we can watch even more movies.”
“Awesome, I can’t wait.” Minho leaned forward, moving one hand from the doorframe and resting his hand on your head, repeating the same motion you did to him.
He ran away laughing before you could do anything about it, but you got one good, “asshole!” in before he rounded the corner, out of your sight and hopefully out of your mind.
ii.
Walking into your first class of your new college life was nerve wracking, to say the least, and you hadn’t started off the day too well either. First, you woke up to a loud argument from the room next to you. It’s the first day and there’s already yelling?! Then, you almost forgot your student ID, effectively locking you out of the classroom buildings. And finally, the icing on the cake, you almost burst into a class in the middle of a test because you thought it was yours and you knew you would be dreaming about that horrifically embarrassing moment for years to come.
Luckily, none of that happened, and you passed through your English Lit class with just a large book and thick packet the teacher deemed as the syllabus. Next was Chemistry and as you looked around the room, there were only two empty seats. One of them being right in front of the teacher’s desk and the other being next to a guy already messing with the beakers sat in front of each table. Since it was your very first day of class, you decided against sitting right in front of the teacher, opting to slowly approach the man that was really engrossed in whatever he was doing.
“Hello?” You asked, speaking loud enough to be heard amongst the pre-class chatter throughout the room. “Can I sit here?”
When he turned around, you took notice of his soft brown eyes. He seemed surprised, mouth hung open as he looked to the beaker in his hand and then at the empty seat next to you.
“Oh, yeah! Of course.” He answered, sliding over slightly to make room for you. “My name is Chan.”
“Nice to meet you, my name is Y/N.” You took out a pen, eyes drifting to his hands holding the beaker. Chan went back to looking at it suspiciously, eyebrows furrowed in a tight line. “Um, can I ask what you’re doing?” You asked. You didn’t know where this confidence came from, you would normally never interact with classmates unless instructed to, but you already found yourself somewhat comfortable around Chan.
He chuckled, and your eyes were drawn to his big smile and the one dimple poking at his right cheek. “I was just checking to make sure there wasn’t any extra residue from past classes left in here. I wouldn’t want any extra cesium or germane left in here and then we all go boom!”
You were impressed by his knowledge, nodding your head and waiting for class to start. Tapping your pen, you looked around at the other students. They all seemed engulfed in the beakers in front of them. Some turned on the burners while others went to the front where small bags were arranged in groups.
“Are we supposed to be starting an experiment?” You looked around the room again, and then to the paper at the front of your desk. Picking it up, you noticed Chan coming closer to you, head peering over at the paper.
“Pick up the bags of chemicals on the table up front.” Chan read aloud, “Then test each chemical, recording your findings on each one. This assignment is a team assignment. Work with your partner next to you. Good luck!”
Immediately he went to grab the bags and you couldn’t help but look him up and down. His shoulders were very wide, the hint of two earrings poking out from behind his curly hair and there were three rings all on his right hand. You weren’t sure why you were checking him out this much, but he held a dorky and interesting aura that made you want to find out more.
As he was walking back, he held up the bags, all with various different colors, and said in an all too cheery but very sweet voice, “Ready to do this, partner?”
You mimicked his smile, “Let’s go, partner.”
iii.
After your second chemistry class, Chan had asked for your number and feeling that this was an opportunity to try and banish your feelings for Minho and possibly get yourself your first boyfriend, you agreed. Honestly you weren’t sure if Chan thought of you in the same way, but the image of his smile clouded your judgement so you agreed.
For the past two days you had been texting him and asking about the countless textbook pages that you were assigned as homework. Of course no one in the class wanted to do them, but you figured having someone to motivate you by saying he’s already finished the pages could be of some help.
Now it was Saturday and you could feel the relaxation taking over as you got back from the library, checking out books on the various chemical reactions that water could have to prepare for a quiz next week. As soon as you walked through your door you ran into your room, changing into a soft baggy shirt and shorts. The weather hadn’t changed from warm to cold yet, so you knew you had a few more weeks until you could dodge shaving for a day or two in favor of wearing jeans.
You’re snapped back to reality as you heard someone knock on the door, immediately remembering that this was your monthly movie night with Minho. You two had been doing this since the beginning of high school and very rarely had you missed a month, and those had been because of severe stomach flu and a date Minho had that he swore he couldn’t pass up even though they broke up two weeks later.
You ran to the door after the knocking turned into more of a drum beat. “Okay, okay I’m coming. Calm your ass.”
“I wasn’t the one that said 5 PM on the dot. You’re the one that’s late.” Minho walked through the door with a stack of movies in his arms and all of a sudden you were reminded of your annoying feelings for this man.
“I figured we could start with one or two and if it’s too late we could hit the hay and leave the rest here for next month.” He turned around and you noticed the small dark bags under his eyes. You hadn’t texted him much if at all this week, too focused on the start of all your classes this semester but you knew he must be exhausted from all the dance classes he took. It was his major but there was only so much your legs could move before they gave out.
“You look tired.” You remarked, walking over to the couch and motioning for him to sit next to you.
He obliged, sitting down with a thump and resting his head just as you had done the weekend before. “I practiced late last night finishing this short dance piece for class. It’s nothing,” Minho picked his head up and shot you a smile, “I’ll be fine.”
You eyed him suspiciously, not fully believing him, but instead nodding. “Okay.” Then you turned your head to the stack of movies, flipping through them and settling on a scary one you didn’t think you had seen before. “I haven’t seen this one, have you?” Minho shook his head. “Great, let’s start.”
You stood up to put the movie in the DVD player before settling back onto the couch in the most comfortable position. Your feet were resting in Minho’s lap, his hands softly tapping a beat onto your shins. You noticed he was wearing a similar outfit to the last time you saw him, this time with a brightly tie dyed Nirvana shirt.
Before your mind could wander, you heard the loud screams from the screen and you snapped your attention back to the movie. You didn’t want to think about how much you wanted to be wrapped in his arms or how much you craved his fingers dancing down your arms or face before he kissed you. You didn’t want to think about it, so you forced yourself to watch the already cheesy thrasher movie playing in front of you.
You noticed Minho’s hands would squeeze your leg when a jumpscare popped up, the slight pressure causing you to look up at him. His eyes were squinted, lips set in a straight line as he cocked his head to the side. It seemed he thought this movie was bad, and you definitely couldn't disagree with that sentiment.
Suddenly Minho leaned forward and paused the movie, hand flinging up towards the screen. “Look at that! This relationship is not realistic.” You shrugged, not knowing exactly what a realistic relationship would look like, yet letting him go on. “It’s so obvious that the guy is gonna die and she’s going to be the only one left at the end.” Something close to a scowl crept up on his face.
“I agree this movie is trash, but I want to see the end.” You sat up and shrugged again. “Besides, I don’t know what a realistic relationship looks like so I thought they looked cute.” You chuckled, turning around when you heard your phone beep.
It was Chan, texting you a joke about the chemicals you were learning about and you found yourself laughing softly at it. Minho leaned forward, peering over your shoulder, a sound of surprise coming from him as he sat back, “Did you find someone? He better be good if he’s interrupting our monthly movie night.” His voice sounded hopeful, yet you thought there was a hint of disappointment. Maybe that was just your own brain hoping, so you brushed past it.
“I don’t know, maybe? His name is Chan and he’s my lab partner for chemistry.” You looked up from your phone, a small frown on your face. “You know I’m not good with relationships, Min. I’m worried I’ll mess something up.”
Minho nodded along, one side of his mouth tilted up as if he was deep in thought. “I have an idea.” He finally spit out after sitting there for a minute.
Normally when Minho said he had an idea, you were terrified, to say the least, since those ideas usually consisted of something dangerous or potentially trouble-causing. But of course, you were his best friend, so you almost always went along with whatever plan he had. You signaled for him to say it, but you were not expecting what came out of his mouth.
“Well, you’ve never been in a relationship. And I don’t want inexperience to get in between you and a good guy, so why don’t I show you how you should be treated in a relationship?” His tone was nonchalant but you saw a nervousness behind his eyes. And at that moment you knew that this idea of his was dangerous. It was dangerous for your heart.
Yet you still nodded. What could go wrong? You thought as you clarified, “so you mean like pretending to date?”
Minho shrugged, “I guess? I didn’t think past this point.” He sat up, grabbing both of your hands. He was warm, and the thought of those hands cupping your face made your heart speed up. “I want you to have some experience before you find someone. I don’t want you to be an awkward mess.” He chuckled and you found yourself relaxing and laughing back. “I just thought we could do some couple things, I could show you the ropes, and when you feel like you're ready, you can go after this Chan guy with all the knowledge you gained from me. It’s like best friends with romantic benefits.”
The thought of experiencing anything close to romantic with Minho made your heart almost explode out of your chest, yet you thought that maybe if you did this it would somehow satisfy your feelings for him and you could move on.
So you nodded again. “Sure,” you said, smiling, “let’s do it.”
“Cool. Now come here.” Minho sat back, motioning for you to come closer so you did. Your knees moved against the plush couch and as soon as you were close enough, Minho’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. You let out a soft sound of surprise as your head was met with his chest.
You had cuddled with Minho before, after a sad movie when you just needed a shoulder to cry on, after getting accepted to college and you fell asleep on him that night talking about how excited you were to be going to the same school.
But this was different. This was Minho moving one hand to start the movie again. This was Minho resting one hand on your arm, fingers going back to tapping a soft rhythm. This was Minho and his scent invading your nose. This was your best friend softly holding you as you relaxed into his touch.
“I know it’s trash but how about we have a bad movie night?” He didn’t need to raise his voice much, your ear pressed against his chest. You could practically hear the rumble in his chest as he spoke. You had expected it to become awkward, but after a breath, you relaxed into his arms, one of your own hesitantly resting on his stomach.
“Is this right?” You asked, wanting to get as much information as you could. If this was supposed to be a learning experience you were going to make the most of it.
Minho chuckled and you felt the vibrations through your whole body. “Yea, that’s good, but you can move your head to wherever you feel comfortable.”
Your back was starting to ache from this position, so you listened to Minho’s words, adjusting yourself so that your forehead was against his neck. Your hand that was previously on his stomach went to wrap around his torso.
On an instinct that only comes with a lot of experience, Minho’s hand went to your back, his palm moving slowly up and down your spine. You felt a shiver run through you which made no sense because Minho was really warm and that warmth spread from head to toe.
You thought about just how many people Minho had done this with. You knew just how many significant others he’d had, and the thought of anyone else doing this with him stung just a little bit.
It also stung to know that eventually you would go back to best friends and he would likely forget this ever happened. As much as you wanted to push back the feelings, you felt a small spark in your stomach and you knew if you let this go on for a while it would only cause you pain.
Minho must have sensed your tense shoulders because the hand that was on your back moved to your hair. His fingertips danced across your scalp. “You okay Y/N?” His voice was soft, head tilting down and you could feel his lips inches away from your forehead. The way he said your voice could only be described as delicate. It was a soft whisper said into thin air and if you hadn’t been pressed right up against him you were sure you wouldn't have heard it.
“Yeah, I’m okay, just cold.” Your voice mimicked his own, your breath fanning out against his shirt. Though you knew it would hurt, you decided that you would throw caution into the wind and just enjoy the now.
As you continued on with the movie, you took notice of Minho’s hand. One rested on the side of the couch, ready to turn off the movie if it got too bad, while the other alternated from resting on your arm to rubbing soothing circles into your back.
Everything overwhelmed your senses. His hand felt soft on your back, touching you as if you were porcelain. His shirt smelled of laundry detergent but with your nose pressed into his neck you caught a scent that was obviously very Minho. You couldn’t put your finger on it particularly, but it was a smell that you didn't think you could ever identify except by one name, Minho. His heart thumped against your ear, and it reminded you of just how real this was and how his heartbeat was oddly fast.
A sense of comfort washed over you, and you realized you were subconsciously drawing circles into Minho’s stomach with your right hand. His shirt was soft and you had the overwhelming urge to slip under his shirt and find out if his skin was just as plush.
Suddenly all of the exhaustion you had pushed off from the week caught up to you. Your eyelids drooped down halfway, and you felt Minho move his head, peering down at you. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He chuckled.
He had called you countless nicknames before, some jokingly vulgar and others only someone who you were close with could use, but sweetheart was different. It made you smile and oblige his words, letting yourself fall into a slumber with a smile stuck on your face.
iv.
A soft swaying woke you from your dream. You hadn’t even remembered exactly what the dream was about, but you knew that Minho was there and you thought it must have been a good thing you didn’t remember.
Air sweeped below you and you realized that you weren’t standing nor sitting, you were being carried, albeit very carefully. You felt the tentative steps of the person carrying you and you could only assume it was Minho.
His arms were holding you gently, so much so that you could barely feel his fingers touching your shoulders and legs. You knew he was strong, but he moved with such light steps that it seemed as though he had no trouble in transporting you to your bedroom.
It was only another moment before you felt your body on the mattress and you decided to act as if you were still sleeping. You let your body naturally curl onto your side and it was then you remembered that it was probably late. You weren’t sure how long you slept but it was still too late for Minho to walk to his dorm.
You thought about waking up and asking him if he wanted to sleep on the couch or with you, but you were stopped by the feeling of a warm body pulling you softly against him. When your back hit something hard, you almost gave yourself away, gasping as an arm settled onto your waist.
This wasn’t the first time you found yourself in this position with Minho. Hell, you had known each other for nearly 10 years of your life, there wasn’t much you had kept private from Minho and vice versa. But this part, this vulnerable and far too touch deprived side of you, had never been shown to anyone and it was terrifying.
The tendrils of sleep were just about to overcome you when you remembered something that made your stomach flip and your heart start racing. Minho didn’t know you were awake. Why would he do these things if he knew you wouldn’t know?
Surely it was for when you woke up. Surely it wasn’t your mind running a mile a minute. You couldn't help but hold a small bit of hope, however, as you finally drifted off into sleep.
v.
It had been three days since your agreement with Minho and you were met with radio silence. It’s not like you’re dating you thought to yourself as you walked back to your dorm from your final lecture of the day.
However as soon as you set your books down, your phone rang, the familiar contact name of ‘my favorite asshole’ popping up on the screen. It had been Minho who had changed his contact name, claiming it was “way too basic for your best friend.”
“Hey, what’s up?” You tried not to sound too upset at the lack of communication but you knew Minho like the back of your hand and you also knew that Minho knew you like the back of his hand.
“Practicing for an exam coming up next week.” His voice echoed and you were about to try and distract him with questions but he beat you to it. “Are you okay? You sound weird.”
“I’m just tired as fuck. Two tests and a lab experiment has been kicking my ass.” You replied and you weren’t lying, your back was starting to ache again from the constant moving around in Chemistry and you could feel a headache coming on.
There was a pause on the other line as Minho seemed to contemplate something. “Do you just wanna rest then?”
“I don’t know, I have some homework I should finish before I even think about a nap.” As soon as you replied, you followed up with a very curious, “Why? What’s up?”
Minho’s voice quieted for the moment, like someone was next to him and he didn’t want them to hear what he was saying. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come over and watch me practice. It’s been a while since we hung out and I miss my best friend.” There it was, best friend. It's exactly what you were, except you couldn’t help but feel a small pang in your chest. His voice dropped even quieter this time. “But you have to be sneaky, my dance teacher is strict about not letting dance students in the practice rooms.”
“Yea, sure. That sounds fun.” You grabbed your books, thinking you could get some work in. “I miss my best friend too.” You smiled. “Even if you’re an asshole sometimes.”
The giggle on the other side of the phone caused you to feel that warmth that you did three days ago. “But I’m you’re favorite asshole.” Minho countered.
He hung up before you could reply, so you gathered your things and headed to the dance studio.
The walk to the studio didn’t take long, in fact it was only two buildings over, so you got there rather quickly. After texting Minho you were there, you heard the door unlock and a fluffy haired Minho poke his head out.
“Come on in.” He held the door open for you, the hand that wasn’t gripped onto the door coming to rest on your lower back. It was surprising but you willed yourself not to get too taken aback. This was all part of the agreement.
It felt nice to be treated like that, however. How am I gonna find someone like Minho after this deal is over? You thought to yourself as said man steered you towards his practice room. The hand on your back was light but you definitely felt his presence there. His voice could be heard over the multitude of ‘what if’s flying around your head, but you had no idea what he was saying.
“You’re not listening to me.” He chuckled and opened the door for you, stepping in behind you while you looked around. The floor was shiny, all leading up to mirrors on three of the walls. It was weird seeing yourself from all different angles and you had to admit you looked tired.
“To be fair I never listen to you.” You countered against him, a smirk playing on your face as you walked towards the middle of the room. Your appearance stuck out in each of the mirror walls you looked at. There were deep bags under your eyes and you noticed a sense of fatigue hiding behind them.
“I look like shit.” You laughed, but you weren’t joking. Classes were draining and you could barely recognize yourself in the mirror.
“You look fine, sweetheart.” Minho laughed breathy and exhausted.
You saw Minho in the mirror walk up behind you, his hands rested on your shoulders. Instead of looking him in the eyes through the mirror, you opted to stare at his hands. His fingers dug into your shoulders, thumbs pressing just between your shoulder blades and an immense feeling of relief shot through you.
“Does that help?” He asked, fingers working deeper into your muscles.
It was as if all the stress and fatigue was slowly being lifted off of you as Minho’s hands worked magic. Instead of answering his question, you let out a soft sign followed by a groan, hoping that was an acceptable answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Minho laughed and continued like that for a minute. Small groans and sighs of relief were the only thing echoing off the walls. Although it had been more than a minute, it felt like just one second as he slowly stopped massaging you. “I don’t want to overdo it. You should sit down.” He motioned over to the bench in the corner.
As you walked over you took out your Chemistry textbook, “I’m gonna just get some reading done if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. Just having you here makes me feel better.” Minho smiled at you through the mirror. “I hope the music won’t distract you though.”
You shook your head, smiling back at the man in front of you. “No, I should be fine. Go ahead and practice.”
As soon as he turned to the audio machine, busy looking through the computer to find the song, you observed his outfit. He was wearing the baggy black sweatpants tucked into sneakers. Then you noticed his shirt. He was wearing a tank top, the straps resting on his shoulders but were so thin they threatened to slip off.
Music blasted through the studio and you recognized the smooth beats that washed over you. Soft drums hit your ears and you couldn't help but nod your head along as you read your textbook. It was only ten more pages you had to read and then you could curl up in bed and sleep.
You tried to finish reading the page on various chemical reactions but your temptation got the better of you and snuck a glance up at Minho and wow. The dance seemed to edge on the sensual side and you were surprised they weren’t assigned a partner for this. His hips rocked perfectly to the rhythm and you didn’t dare look at his eyes. You had seen him dance before and the look in his eyes when he danced could make any person melt from the sheer passion and determination.
You weren't sure exactly when he had gotten so muscular but you assumed him dedicating his life to dancing helped build them. He wasn’t ripped, per say, but he had just the right amount of muscle to prevent you from teasing him with string bean comments. Not to mention his thighs. The majority of his power resided in his thighs and you knew if you kept thinking about him you would dig yourself a deeper hole.
Somewhere in the trenches of you damn near drooling over Minho, you were startled by the door to the practice room being flung open. A woman dressed in workout shorts and a baggy crop top walks in, eyes following Minho’s movements before landing on you sitting in the far corner of the room.
“I thought I told you only dance students in this building.” The woman raised her voice over the music before finally going and turning it off. “Who is this?” She pointed towards you and you ducked your eyes down in embarrassment.
Minho paused for a moment, thinking of what to say before he finally blurts out, “They’re my significant other.” If you had been eating or drinking anything you’re sure you would have choked, but you tried to keep your composure as he continued, “They were going to work on homework but the library was closed and I offered to let them work here. I’m sorry Mrs. Lee.”
The dance teacher looked between you and Minho, and you decided to try and help the situation. “I’m so sorry. Don’t blame Minho, blame me. I wanted to spend some time with him but we were both busy with homework and I figured this would work. Again, I’m sorry. I won’t come back.” Your voice remained steady as you tried to play into the perception that you and Minho were actually dating. Although with the feelings blooming in you recently it wasn’t hard to act as though you wanted to spend time with him.
A loud sigh escaped her, her face softening slightly. “Ah, young love. I was there once.” You felt your face heat up. “Minho,” she directed her attention towards him, leaving you to observe, “You’re one of the best students in this class. Perhaps I can let this pass, as long as your choreography assignment is up to my expectations.”
“It is!” You smiled up at Mrs. Lee. “I haven’t seen it all but he’s one of the best dancers I know and you won’t be disappointed.”
She nodded curtly, turning around on her heels and making a swift exit.
As soon as she left, you felt Minho’s eyes on you. You avoided it for as long as you could before you heard Minho say your name. “Yeah?” You replied, looking up at him.
“I hope you're okay with me saying that to Mrs. Lee. If you want I can go tell her we aren’t-”
“No!” You cut him off maybe too quickly. “I mean, I don’t mind it. It’s helping me get experience isn’t it? Being introduced as someone’s significant other.” You didn’t add how much hearing it come from Minho’s mouth made a million sparklers go off in your stomach, nor did you add that now you’ve heard him say it, you never wanted him to stop saying it.
“Okay.” Was all Minho said before motioning towards the computer, the song he was dancing too that was paused by Mrs. Lee waiting to be started again. “I’m gonna practice again.”
You nodded. “Of course. I’m going to try and finish this chapter and then I might head home and hit the hay early.” As you looked into his eyes, you saw the deep bags that mirrored your own. “You should get some sleep too, Min. You look exhausted.”
Minho hesitated, shrugging his shoulders slowly. You could almost see his muscles working overtime just to keep him upright. “I should be fine, sweetheart. Don't worry about me.” He turned around so you could no longer see his face, not even in the mirror in front of you. “Maybe you should just head out and get some sleep. I don't want you to fall asleep in Chemistry tomorrow.”
Confusion flashed across your features as you stood up. You put your textbook in your bag, walking up to Minho and resting your hand on his shoulder. “No.” You spoke sternly, set on making him listen to you. “I refuse to leave unless you’re leaving with me. I don’t like seeing you like this, Min. It hurts me as much as it hurts you.”
Minho knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew you were firm in your statement. You really wouldn't leave until he did. A long sigh escaped his lips, air cascading into the already stuffy dance room.
Instinctively, your other hand raised to his other shoulder, pulling him closer to you. Minho’s muscles relaxed as he loosely wrapped his arms around your waist. His thumbs pressed lightly into your spine and that familiar wave of electricity surged from your head to your toes.
Hot breath fanned across your neck as Minho nuzzled his head there. It was weird having someone that close to you and it reminded you of just how vulnerable you were. You ran your fingers around his neck to the nape of his head, playing with the small hairs that tickled you.
Sure, you had hugged Minho before, but nothing like this. This was holding someone in one of their darkest moments. This was fearing to speak in fear of reality coming crashing back to you. This was letting your existence speak for itself. This was your soul latching itself onto Minho’s. This was the moment you finally had to admit to yourself.
I am hopelessly and madly in love with you, Lee Minho.
After what felt like an eternity you separated yourself from him, but only enough to be able to see his face. “How about we go back to my room and sleep?” You weren’t sure what prompted you to ask that, but right now you didn’t want to be alone.
The corners of Minho’s mouth drooped as he nodded his head yes. In the span of ten minutes he had lost all his energy and you could tell he had been living off energy drinks and coffee. You knew it was hard for you, but you couldn’t imagine what it was like for Minho. Classes where you danced for an hour straight with no breaks, countless hours in the practice rooms forcing your limbs to move in this exact pattern or your whole assignment was ruined. You hated seeing him like this and hoped he would be better at taking care of himself eventually.
“Good. You can worry about your assignment tomorrow, but you need sleep, Min.” You smoothed one side of his messy hair down, heart clenching when Minho leans his head into your hand.
“Okay. Let’s go.” Minho trudged over to the computer, turning it off and unplugging his phone from the USB port. He grabbed his bag off the floor and looked to you sleepily. A hand was extended towards you and you had held hands with Minho before, but this, as did everything else that had happened recently, made you even more vulnerable.
Yet you reached out, your palm meeting Minho’s and your fingers locking together like a zipper. You hadn’t thought about just how well your hands fit with his until a silence washed over you and you were left to your own devices. Maybe your hands were always meant to find each other. Maybe this was fate saying that if the pieces fit together, it was meant to be.
The walk to your room was shrouded in silence, but you couldn’t say that you minded it. There wasn't always a need for words between you and Minho. It was like your minds connected in a way that you've never experienced with anyone else. You always joked you should never play poker together because you could tell when he was lying.
Minho held you close, except when you walked up to your dorm building, when he detached your hand from his and moved to open the door for you. Even now he was treating you like royalty. A small “thank you” left your lips as you entered the chilly front room.
You waited for Minho to walk through the door before you silently grasped his hand again, leading him towards the elevator doors. The woman at the desk watched you two, “You are just the cutest couple!” She whispered to you.
The pang in your chest was back, but you put on a smile and replied. “Thank you so much.”
In the elevator, Minho leaned more into your side. His eyes were open, but you knew he wasn’t fully coherent. He looked drained of all energy and you were scared that you might have to carry him to your room.
“Just a little bit more Min and you can sleep.” You ran your thumb over his hand lightly, smiling when Minho just tightened the grip he had.
As soon as you were in front of your room, you used the hand that wasn’t interlocked with Minho’s to get your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door and stepping inside. You locked the door behind you, setting the keys on the table next to the door and throwing your bag in front of the couch.
You pried your hand from Minho’s only to be met with a sound of disapproval. Pulling the bag off of Minho’s shoulder, you gave him his wish and reconnected your hands, leading him to your room.
It was dark outside, so you turned on the lamp beside your bed, watching as Minho stripped himself of his shirt and looked up at you from beneath his eyelashes. “Did you happen to save any of the clothes I've left at your house back home?”
Digging through your drawer, you're met with a sound of surprise because you knew you kept some of the clothes he’s left over the years, but you didn’t know you had packed them and brought them here when you came to college. You pulled out a pair of shorts that looked like his, holding them up, “Are these okay?”
Minho nods, grabbing the shorts and walking over to the other side of the bed. He doesn't bother telling you to turn around, you're best friends, you've almost seen worse from him.
You didn't think anything of it when he immediately striped himself of his sweatpants, quickly slipping on the pants that were a little bit loose but you knew he was going to fall asleep in a snap so you didn't say anything. You also didn't think anything of it when you pulled out sleep clothes for yourself and began to strip as well. The air conditioning in your room was on full blast and you shivered slightly at the cold air against your skin. You could feel the goosebumps on your skin as you pulled your shirt and pants on, turning around to face the bed once more.
The covers were already pulled back and Minho was sitting up in your bed. His hands were resting on his stomach, fingers interlaced and thumbs tapping another rhythm. He always had that habit, always getting yelled at by teachers for tapping on the desks during tests, always having music in his head that no one else could hear.
You took a moment to admire him before smiling at him, Minho immediately mirroring that smile back to you. He opened his arms, waving both of them as if to beckon you towards him. And it always worked, you knew it would always work because you couldn’t just say no to his tired face and hopeful grin.
Climbing into bed, you moved closer to Minho, hands instinctively going around his waist. It was as if whatever deity was up above heard your thoughts, because now there was no fabric barrier between you and Minho’s torso. Your thumb pressed lightly into his side, massaging circles into whatever skin you could reach.
One of Minho’s hands went to your back and the other one rested on your arm. Sleep immediately started to creep up on you but you snapped out of it when you heard Minho utter a soft apology to you.
You sat up, body feeling cold after moving away from him. “What are you sorry for?” You asked, one of your hands not moving from rubbing circles into his side.
There was a heavy silence in the room and you were scared of what would come next. What if he wants to stop this, whatever this is. What if something is wrong?
“I’m sorry I haven't been able to treat you how you should be treated, I just wanted to show you what it was like to be treated right.” Minho’s eyes bore into your own and although you saw fatigue, you also saw a sense of sadness.
“Don’t apologize, Min. Everything you do tells me how I should be treated. You don’t have to be there for me 24/7 for me to know you are an amazing person.” You leaned forward, moving your hands to cup his cheeks. They were cold and you felt goosebumps rise on your arms. Your thumbs moved across his cheekbones and you watched as Minho closed his eyes. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend.”
You pulled the covers up, grabbing Minho by the shoulders and urging him to move down. “I know that once you get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning, okay?” You didn’t wait for him to confirm your statement and that was the last you saw of his face, because you opted for cuddling closer to him. The hand that was previously on his waist returned, your head finding purchase as it did before.
Your nose pressed into the junction of his shoulder and neck, the scent that could only be described by the name Minho much stronger now that there wasn’t any fabric in the way. “I like you just the way you are. And what you are is the best best friend I could ever ask for.”
The last thing you remember before sleep overcame you was a soft pressure on your forehead in what you could only guess was Minho’s lips, followed by him whispering. “Goodnight sweetheart.”
vi.
Since that night two weeks ago, Minho had taken to sleeping over every night.
Not that you were complaining, no, you could never complain about having your best friend and newly discovered crush (was it just a crush at this point, though?) holding you like you were fine china every night. In fact, you would rather have him there with you as opposed to waking up every morning to cold air and an empty kitchen.
Now, waking up to an empty bed was unusual. So when you opened your eyes and found your arms clutching empty air you were confused.
Checking your clock on the bedside table you saw you had an hour until Chemistry (getting the email yesterday that your English Lit class was canceled for today was a blessing) and while you debated going back to sleep wishing Minho was with you, you also were curious if he was still here.
By now you had memorized his schedule, knowing he didn't have class until later in the afternoon, so the only explanation was that he had gone to the practice room. You didn’t blame him, since that night Minho had made it his mission to walk you back to your dorm after your last class of each day. Sometimes he would go back to practice and sometimes he would just gently guide you to bed, tracing patterns on your back until you fell asleep.
You knew you were in deep and you knew it would hurt when all of this eventually stopped but for now you wanted to enjoy the way Minho said your name paired with “sweetheart”, or the way he would hold you tight but not enough to hurt you.
The smell of something cooking snapped you out of your thoughts and you pulled the covers back, feet softly sliding across the carpeted floor. You silently stood in the doorway and watched as the small stove burner was bright red. A pan sat on the burner with a pale yellow scrambled egg in it.
From this angle you could only see Minho’s back and the way his shoulder muscles rippled under his skin as he messed with the pans and plates in front of him. He looked handsome. But not in the handsome that everyone else saw. Everyone saw the dancer, the student, the friend, the guy that walked into a room and just his presence drew attention. Yes, you saw that as well, but you also saw the vulnerability, the chivalry, the deepest parts of Lee Minho that he never showed to anyone else.
That made you fall even more in love with him.
Just as you were about to interrupt the silence, Minho turned around, breaking the silence on his own. “Hey.” He said, holding up the newly made plate of eggs and bacon.
“Goodmorning, Min.” You smiled, walking towards the small table and sitting down.
“I made breakfast. I figured you could eat and then I could walk you to class.” Minho explained as he set the plate down, putting another plate in front of himself as he sat opposite to you.
“Yeah, that sounds good.” You replied, already starting to eat.
You both sat in a comfortable silence until you both had finished, leaving you to get ready for class while Minho got ready to walk you there.
As soon as you had finished getting ready you grabbed your bag and checked your phone. Ten minutes. You had ten minutes to get to class and you knew it would be busy as a lot of classes started and stopped around this time.
“Shit, we gotta go, Min. I don’t want to be late.” You grabbed your keys, quickly locking your door and grabbing Minho’s hand. At this point it was by impulse that you grabbed it and you were glad that he didn’t mind.
Before you could walk far, Minho stopped in the hall, making you turn around and face him. He grabbed your bag, slinging it over his own shoulder and smiling at you as he started walking again.
The walk there seemed like an eternity but that was only because you felt the weight of Minho’s hand in yours. In a particularly large crowd of people, Minho opted for a hand resting on your lower back so he didn’t lose you and could stay close, but when your hand was in his, you felt like you were in your own bubble. It was like nothing could affect you when you were next to him.
As you approached your classroom, you saw Chan standing at the doorway. It was weird, he never did that, opting instead to start on whatever experiment you had for the day.
His eyes caught yours in the crowd of people and they lit up. He lifted his hand to wave but his eyes wandered down to your hand that was clasped in Minho’s and his large smile lowered slightly.
“Shit.” You said, looking over at Minho who had a frown on his face.
Before you could say anything else, Minho released your hand, your bag sliding off his shoulder and finding your arms. “I’m gonna go to class. Have a good day, Y/N.” There was a melancholy tone to his voice that made you want to say something but before you knew it you had lost him in the crowd of people.
“Hey.” You said softly to Chan as you stood in front of him.
He smiled at you but you could tell it wasn’t as wide as it normally was. “Hey!”
You followed him into the room, looking at the front table where the ingredients for the days lab would be but instead seeing the teacher sitting there. On the board behind him were the big words NO LAB. LECTURE DAY.
“Oh great.” You groaned, setting your textbook down at your table and sitting down.
Chan sat next to you, his hands clasped in his lap as he stared down at his book. “So who was that?”
You knew he was referring to Minho, and you were thinking of exactly what you should say. If you said he was your boyfriend, you might not get the opportunity to date Chan but if you said he was your best friend, you could still have a chance. Through the last month, you knew just where your feelings were and you didn’t hesitate to answer him.
“That’s my boyfriend.”
His face registered shock and what you could only pinpoint as disappointed. You wished you could lie and say you wanted to be with Chan but for the second time in that month you had to admit it to yourself. You loved Minho.
“Oh, okay.” Chan nodded, looking up at the whiteboard. There was a moment of silence before he seemed to snap back to his normal cheery self. “Lecture days were specifically made by the devil himself.”
At that comment, you were back to clutching your stomach and doubling over in laughter. You quickly agreed, looking to the front of the room and seeing the teacher giving you a disapproving look. Not realizing class had started, you made a motion of zipping your mouth shut, turning to Chan and seeing him do the same.
As the lecture went on, you scribbled notes down and found yourself thinking about Minho. Yeah, Chan made you laugh and he was a dorky type of handsome that made you want to sit down and listen to his lame jokes all day long.
But Minho.. Lee Minho. He was the guy who watched you embarrass yourself in front of the whole school accepting an award in high school. He was the guy who held you tight when you cried about getting rejected by your first crush. He was the guy that told you you could do anything and everything that came to your mind. He was the guy who promised he would always be by your side through anything.
“Let’s talk about the chemistry of love.” The teacher’s voice faded back into your head, and you were intrigued to know more. “Most people don’t know that love is a chemical equation. I will go into more detail in a later lesson but the basic combination is dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin.”
You found yourself furiously scribbling everything down, hanging off his every word and worrying you were missing something. To your right, you felt Chan’s eyes focused on your face and you wanted to turn to him but you were too busy fixating on what the teacher was saying.
“Dopamine is released in the process of picking a mate and following the release of dopamine comes oxytocin, also known as the cuddle hormone. Just the simple gesture of holding someone’s hand releases oxytocin and causes a sense of attraction and what chemists then call ‘love’. Eventually, once the honeymoon phase is over chemically, meaning your body develops a tolerance to these chemicals, endorphins are released.” The teacher had his back turned, quickly writing down the full chemical compositions of these chemicals, but when he finished his sentence he slowly faced the class.
“Endorphins cause a feeling of comfort. It’s the feeling of being safe in someone’s presence, like you know they would do anything for you and vice versa.” He sat his uncapped marker on the lab table and proceeded to walk around the class, looking at every student he passed. He was silent, watching everyone (including you) try and write everything he said down.
As soon as he made his way back to his table, he began to speak again. “That, my wonderful students, is love.” There was a moment of silence before he smiled. “I will see you next week.”
You didn’t say goodbye to Chan when you left the classroom, knowing that seeing his face anymore would only make your chest ache.
Walking back to your dorm felt empty without Minho by your side. You wondered if he was busy with homework or class, deciding not to worry too much and instead thinking back to the lecture you just sat through.
The way Minho treated you for the past month had butterflies erupting in your stomach from holding your hand, carrying your books, the constant touches and the way he would follow every other sentence with “sweetheart”. You found yourself melting and constantly telling him that whomever he dated must feel like royalty.
But you also knew that even before this deal, the way Minho hugged you didn’t make you feel nervous or sweaty palmed, it made you feel safe. Whenever Minho walked into a room you felt your shoulders untense and a smile slip its way onto your face.
To you, Minho was home. He was the one you would go to with anything. He was the one that came to you with anything. You've helped him with relationship problems despite your lack of experience. He’s helped you with gym class and the history lessons you couldn’t seem to grasp.
You had been in love with Minho for a long time, yet you only seemed to notice it now.
Through your thinking you found your way to your room, unlocking it and slipping in. You went through the normal routine of setting your bag down in front of the couch, grabbing a water bottle and taking out your notebook.
Looking around, however, you noticed the surprising lack of clothes. Minho was a mess sometimes, leaving his shirts or socks on the floor, but there was not one trace of his clothes in sight. Everything looked sparkly clean, in fact, and there wasn’t any trace of Minho ever having been there.
You knew he had a spare key to your dorm and figured he just cleaned up a bit but the feeling of everything being a bit too clean couldn't be erased from your mind.
Deciding to call him to make sure everything was okay, you grabbed your phone. You saw Minho’s smiling face staring back as you tried to unlock your phone. Minho had taken a selfie and set it as your lock screen, and you made no protest, happy to be able to see his smiling face every time you wanted to unlock your phone.
He answered on the fifth ring. “Hey.” He said quietly and you were confused at his severe lack of energy.
“Are you okay, Min?” You asked him, hearing shuffling on the other side along with loud chatter of what you could only assume was students.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just on my way to class.” Minho’s voice sounded more than tired, it sounded sad.
“No, you’re not fine. I can tell.” When Minho didn’t answer you, you continued talking. “Whatever it is, you should talk about it. How about after your class? Come by my dorm, okay?”
There was a long sigh on the other line and you were worried he would decline your request but relief washed over you when he said, “Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye, Y/N.”
When you hung up, you decided to bury yourself in reading pages, trying not to think about the fact that he called you by your name, something he hadn’t done much if at all in the last month.
vii.
A knock at your door startled you off your textbook, realizing that you fell asleep with your face resting on it. You wondered who it was, knowing Minho had a key and could just let himself in.
So you were surprised to open up the door and see Minho standing there. He was wearing what he normally did after a shower, baggy sweatpants and a tank top, his hair still slightly damp and shining. For two weeks he had opted for taking a shower at your place, so why didn’t he do it now?
“Hey. Why didn’t you let yourself in?” You asked him, walking back towards the couch and closing your textbook, trying not to think of the small drool patch staining the periodic table.
Minho shrugged, his head dipping and eyes trailing on the ground. As he walked in he made sure to close and lock your door, knowing how paranoid you got. He didn’t look at you and you felt an empty feeling when he sat opposite to you on the couch, the farthest he could be.
“What’s wrong, Min? You’re worrying me.” You tried to move closer to him, putting a hand on top of his but he just pulled back, clasping his hands in his lap.
“I’m sorry.” Minho looked at you for the first time that night and you didn’t feel the warmth you normally did. There weren’t any bags under his eyes. Rather, it was like a dark cloud over his head. Before you could say anything, he interjected. “So how is Chan? Did he ask about me?”
Your stomach turned and you weren’t sure how to tell Minho you called him your boyfriend. Instead, you opted for a silent nod.
“What did you say?” Minho asked and you knew there was no way getting out of it.
“I, uh, I said you were my boyfriend.”
Silence. You felt like you wanted the couch to swallow you up.
“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done this.” Minho shakes his head, eyes falling back down to his clasped hands.
Your stomach sunk, not knowing how to respond. At this point, you just wanted to save your friendship because you knew you couldn’t take Minho no longer speaking to you. You tried to stutter out a response but all you got out was a mixture of “Um”s and “Uh”s.
“I’m sorry.” Minho apologized again and you stopped him before he said anything else.
“No. Don't apologize. I don’t feel that way about Chan anymore.” Although it felt like a dagger to your heart, you leaned back, farther away from Minho. “It’s not your fault Minho. If anything it’s mine.”
“Don’t say that Y/N.” Minho shook his head. “It’s my fault for letting my feelings cloud my judgement. I know it would hurt me more than help, but I wanted to express to you just how much I love you.”
Silence again, but this time you felt a spark in your stomach, warmth spread to the tips of your toes and fingers. I love you. Did he mean it like you did?
“I love you too.” You weren’t sure if you meant to say it or if your heart had a mind of its own. “I mean, I have for a long time but I think it took me a while to admit it.”
Minho looked up at you again, eyebrows disappearing behind his long fringe. His mouth hung open. “Really?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t think you felt the same but I wanted to be selfish and feel what everyone else that dated you felt. I wanted to feel loved that way.” Pausing, you asked a question that had you curious. “But if you weren’t sure I felt the same way why did you propose this idea anyways?”
“I’ve always loved you that way.” Minho moved closer to you and you felt the warmth slowly overtake your senses. “I wanted to be selfish too. I wanted to hold you like a boyfriend would and treat you like how you deserved. I just wanted to help you find someone, whether that be me or not was up to you.”
As soon as you got close enough, you reached out and cupped his cheeks with both your hands. His skin wasn’t so cold anymore, it made warmth radiate from your fingertips. “I would always choose you, Min. Always.”
Your knees knocked into Minho’s as he moved closer, and you were forced to remove your hands from his face. His nose almost touched yours and you swore you could see the entire galaxy in his eyes.
You smiled, a genuine eye-crinkling smile and Minho’s face mirrored your own. You weren't sure how his hands ended up on your waist, but you welcomed them there. His eyes searched yours, occasionally flicking to your lips. You moved your hands to his shoulders, thumbs running along his collarbones.
It seemed like an eternity before he asked you the one question you had been hoping to hear since the beginning of this idea of his.
“Can I kiss you?”
You did nothing but nod, closing your eyes and gasping when his lips finally met yours. They were slightly cold but you didn’t mind. Your hands raised to his neck, pulling him closer. Your knees hit together again but you couldn’t care less when Minho was kissing you like you were going to slip away.
Your lips moved together lightly, only leaving enough space for your breaths to mingle together in the air between you. Minho’s hand slowly traveled up your torso, stopping at your neck for him to run his thumbs along your jaw. Everything was so intimate and although you’ve only had few people to compare it to, Minho was the best kisser you had ever known.
Time seemed to halt when Minho’s hands finally settled on your cheeks and it felt like he was trying to pull you closer and if you had gotten any closer the line between you and Minho would blur. You wanted to be as close as you could to him, feel the heat from your head to your toes but right now all you felt was Minho’s soft lips moving softly against your own.
When Minho moved his lips again, tilting his head even more and letting you find a more comfortable rhythm, you smiled into the kiss. He tasted like peppermint and everything you ever could have imagined. You felt him smile against your lips as well and were forced to pull away.
“I could spend forever kissing you, sweetheart.” Minho smiled, the familiar feeling of his fingers tapping a rhythm on your waist making the warmth in you heighten.
You were breathless, but you mirrored his sentiment with a whispered. “Me too.”
There were a few beats of silence in which you threaded your fingers into his still dewy hair. Under his stare you felt nothing but comfort and love for your best friend sitting before you.
His eyes lit up even more. “I have an idea.”
You raised your eyebrows, ready to hear just exactly what he had in mind.
“Well, you’ve never been in a relationship. So why don’t I change that?” Minho’s cheeks were tinted red and he took his bottom lip in his teeth.
“You mean like real dating?” You were reminded of a month ago when he had asked you if you wanted to try out that little idea of his. But now you get the real thing.
“I guess? I didn’t think this far.” His smirk told you everything and you felt your face heat up. You chuckled, fingers carding through his hair before resting back onto his shoulders.
You didn’t need another moment to think of your answer.
“Sure. Let’s do it.”
viii.
Perhaps your Chemistry teacher was right, there was an equation for love going on in your brain as you laid in Minho's arms in your bed. He had already fallen asleep but you found yourself unable to stop smiling against his bare neck. His scent flooded your nose and you decided on another name for it. Home.
You felt safe. You felt like you could conquer the world as long as Minho was by your side. You knew no one would be able to make you feel the way Minho did as you felt his fingers slowly tapping against your waist. Soft snores came from above your head and you found your eyelids drooping. Minho’s heartbeat was the best lullaby as you drifted off to sleep.
Everyone had their own love equation and you knew yours.
seratonin + dopamine + oxytocin + endorphins = Lee Minho.
#stray kids#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#m.writing#lee minho#lee know#sk-writersnet#skzwriters#stray kids fanfic#stray kids oneshot#stray kids imagine#minho imagine#minho scenario#lee know imagine#lee know scenario#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#skzinc#its here !!!! i know its probably not The Best but ill get better with time#i hope you guys enjoy it 💌🌙#(yea this is my first fic in Years so skjdhfjdh i would love to know what yall think !!!)
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sifu-zuzu-deactivated-aug11-blog
That's Rough, Buddy.
kelvin5h
👞K⌚
fighttoshine
Fight to Shine
shannie180
Prepare To Be Aroused
flipnotehatenaworldcom-blog
Luna_pichu's flipnote blog