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in-class-daydreams · 5 months

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Just Between Us (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Utahime!Reader Synopsis: You possess a coveted ability, the Blessed Womb, meaning your offspring will bear any and all cursed techniques in their father's bloodline. As such, you've lived a life isolated from society, to protect your rare capability. But what about you? Is that all you are? A womb? You refuse to be reduced to what your body can do. You and Satoru Gojo were born on the same cold day in December 1989. The Universe seems to have designed you to be twin flames, but by now you happen to resent the Universe making all your decisions for you. Set around the beginning of the school year of Gojo's second year of high school. Notes/TW: Toxic patriarchy & arranged marriage culture. Reader is sheltered to an abusive degree. Some mentions of blood. Gojo and reader argue a whole bunch and yes, that's a warning. Fem pronouns used and the reader has a uterus for plot reasons.

“The hell do you mean you kissed Geto?” you shout at Gojo.

You sat at your vanity, painstakingly plucking pins from the elaborate updo that the maids put your hair into. Your personal attendant, Miwako, would have a heart attack with how harsh you were being with her labor of love, but she had enough survival instincts to leave you and Gojo be. This wasn’t the first fight of yours she’d been in proximity to, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The boy in question leans against your dresser. He’s still wearing his school uniform, not even having the decency to change clothes for your birthday ceremony while you’d been getting trussed up like a Christmas ham since 6 am.

“Technically, he kissed me. And it was just the one time,” he drawls. Your oldest friend stares off into space, likely reminiscing the feeling of kissing one Suguru Geto. You’d never seen the man, since he never had a reason to visit the Utahime Estate and you weren’t allowed to leave. Gojo would have shown you pictures, if your clan elders allowed any blue light on the premises.

You pointedly avoid his gaze - he wasn’t paying attention to you anyhow, probably too busy thinking about Geto - and busy yourself with dismantling the amalgamation of clips and pins that was your hairstyle.

“You’re mad,” Gojo says.

“What would I be mad for, Satoru?” you reply simply.

He counts on his fingers. “First, you’re not looking at me. Second, you called me ‘Satoru,’ and third, I know everything about you, I know when you’re mad.”

You resent that. Gojo was always under the assumption that he knew, as he said, “everything about you,” and you were always positive that he was full of it. He might have been your oldest friend, and he was a significant part of your life, but in light of all the “fate this” and “destiny that” talk from just about everyone you’ve ever met, you were adamant that your thoughts were your own.

You and Satoru Gojo were born on the same cold day in December 1989. The heir to the Gojo Clan first opened his eyes around 6 am, just as the sun broke the horizon and turned the sea of indigo night to golden morning. You, who would be imbued with the Blessed Womb and therefore responsible for the fate of the Utahime Clan, filled your mother’s bedroom with your newborn wails just before 5 pm, when the orange and periwinkle and blue and blush were being covered in a blanket of night. The sight of you brought tears to your big sister’s eyes.

The two of you were introduced to each other as soon as possible, swaddled in your respective blankets and placed beside each other. What your clans envisioned, you’d never know, but baby Satoru wailed in his mother’s arms until his swaddle made contact with yours. All froze in stunned silence when you both immediately fell into a peaceful slumber. It was as if the stars made you to be two parts of a whole.

Within that year, when you were having trouble learning to roll over, you finally did so to come face to face with him. Months later, his first steps were towards you. His mother liked to say that you were a cosmic match, and she guessed that your mother would have said the same thing, had she survived your birth.

The two of you were a fairytale straight out of a storybook.

You would come to resent that.

Where was your own agency? Were you to inevitably fall for a man whom destiny chose for you? What about what you wanted? Why did you not have a say in the universe’s great plan for you?

But none of that mattered, for as you grew older and the true nature of your Blessed Womb came to light, each scrap of autonomy you possessed was stripped away. For much of your childhood, you shared a joint birthday party, alternating between estates each year. As soon as it was up to him, Satoru decided that any celebrations would be just about you. Maybe he believed he was doing you a favor, but all that did was concentrate all the public scrutiny onto you.

You click your tongue. “Yeah, well, you’re free to do whatever you want. I’m happy for you and your new boyfriend.”

“It’s not like that,” he says.

A bobby pin slips from your grip and flings into the mirror, bouncing to the ground. You grunt in frustration and spin around to face him.

“What’s it like, then?” you demand.

He raises his hands up in defense. “It felt weird! We’re good where we’re at, and– Look, I’m not a mind reader, okay? You say with your mouth that you’re happy for me, and then you act pissed off. Which is it and what do you want from me?”

When you try to look away again, he leans the same way, forcing himself into your field of view every time you turn your head.

“Are you mad you’re not my first kiss? Is that it?” You pause at his question and stare at him blankly. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he adds, “You’re my first everything else, princess, you can’t let someone else have this one?”

You grab the first thing within reach - a pretty metal claw clip - and fling it at him. He catches it easily.

“Shut up! You’re so–!” you shout, unable to find an insult suitable for the ire you feel. “You’re so!”

“Full of myself?” he helpfully supplies.

“Don’t put words in my mouth!” you snap. “You’re so damn full of yourself, it’s a wonder you have room for anyone else!” You turn your back to him. “Maybe you don’t.”

The house servants, and probably your sister if she was in her room, were plenty used to yours and Gojo’s spats by now. You heard from a particularly loose-lipped new maid that there’s a running tally in the staff quarters keeping score of who wins your arguments. She wouldn’t say more, but you like to believe that you’re winning. “Don’t think I care who you put your thin, crusty lips–”

“My lips are soft and supple!”

“Thin–” you emphasize. “--crusty lips on! You can kiss my grandmother for all I care, if she lets you anywhere near her.”

“Grandma Utahime wishes she could get herself a taste of this!”

“Whatever!” You rubbed your temples and tried to will away what you called your “Gojo Headache.” All the headaches caused by him stretched all the way across your forehead and somehow made your jaw ache. They were unmistakable and exclusive.

“See, that’s what pisses me off,” Gojo says, gesturing with one hand. “We argue and when you don’t want to argue any more, you just say ‘whatever’ and nothing gets solved.”

“What part of me not wanting to argue any more do you not understand? You’re so stubborn, it’s not worth it!” you reply.

There’s a light knock at the door. Through it, you hear Miwako’s muffled voice bid you goodnight.

She can’t see you, but you lower your head and speak as soft and sweet as possible. “Thank you, Miwako. Sleep well, and thank you for attending me today.” Then you turn back to Satoru. “But if you’re going to be a pain in the ass about it–”

“I’m the pain in the ass?”

“-- I’ll tell you why I’m mad! I woke up this morning, drank that nasty red ginseng tea, got in the tub, got every inch of me scrubbed down and then lotioned. The attendants brought me into the main hall where I sat and did tea ceremony while the jujutsu clans paraded their men around in front of me, insisting that my grandmother - not me - agrees to a marriage alliance to unite the clans.” Gojo opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not done. “Iori refused to make eye contact with me all day - just like she does every year on my birthday - so the last person I was counting on was you! So excuse me if I’m upset that you showed up late, made me face the Kamo Clan, Naoya Zenin, and the Inumaki Clan’s ten year old successor on my own, then had the audacity to come in and act like it’s fine to talk about your love life like everything is fine and dandy for us both, because it isn’t! It’s just great for you!”

You take a deep breath, panting by now. It’s been a while since you ripped Gojo a genuine new one. Usually, the two of you have minor spats over things you can’t remember and call it a day. The two of you don’t even apologize, you just move on.

The problem was, things would always be harder on you than him. While you sympathized with the insurmountable pressure he must be feeling as the heir of both of his clan’s techniques, he was a man. In the archaic values of the jujutsu upper nobility, he would be free to make more of his own decisions in one day than you would in your entire life. That, and he wasn’t cursed with a Blessed Womb.

You’re still shaking with rage when you glance at Gojo. Even behind his blackout shades, you can see that his eyes are blown wide. But when he finally formulates a reply, you decide that there’s nothing he can say right now that won’t piss you off, so you go over to the window and check outside to see if the coast is clear.

Over your shoulder, you tell him, “Go home, Satoru, every time you open your mouth, you piss me off.”

You throw a leg over the sill and heave yourself up. Gojo follows close behind.

“As if I ever let you boss me around,” he scoffs. He holds a hand out for you to stabilize yourself and you swat it away.

Bringing the other leg over, you land in the grass with a quiet thump. “Point proven,” you deadpan.

Gojo doesn’t even need to use his hands to help him. They remain in his pockets as he takes a high step through the window and easily slips out behind you. It’s an awkward fit for him with limbs as unwieldy as his.

You stalk off through the darkness to the edge of the estate. You quietly slip through and make your way down the path towards gardens. Not many flowers are in bloom this time of year, but the hedges stand tall and obscure you from view of the house.

Gojo ambled along beside you, leaned far back with his questionable posture. You don’t hate him, despite how vicious your fights could be. He was the only person who didn’t treat you differently from everyone else. Funny, considering he was more tied to your existence than anyone else. Even if he liked to push your buttons, he saw you for you, not what you were cursed with.

You were only four years old when extensive genetic testing revealed that you were imbued with an exceedingly rare, ancient power your clan took to calling the Blessed Womb. After studying the signs of its manifestation, the direction of the entire clan became geared towards finding you an auspicious match.

The major jujutsu clans, and many of the minor ones, possessed more than one cursed technique per clan. However, it was rare for any one sorcerer to be born with talents in more than one technique, Satoru being the first in generations to possess both the Six Eyes and Limitless. Precedence and sparse written records dictated that if you coupled with a jujutsu sorcerer, your offspring was not only guaranteed to possess whatever your own abilities were, but they’d manifest any and all of their father’s techniques as well.

Needless to say, the sharks frenzied once word got out.

You flop down in the grass and lay on your back to look up at the night sky. The estate was more isolated from the city and had no electric lights. The stars twinkled above, and you almost felt sorry for cursing them so. Emphasis on almost, seeing as they had no qualms about doing the same to you.

“Who cares about the yearly marriage exhibition?” Gojo asked. He joined you in the grass, leaning back on his hands. “When the time comes, you’re just gonna marry me, right?” When you don’t reply, he continues, “We were born on the same day, these superstitious old crones wouldn’t go back on that.”

“Shut up, Satoru,” you think to yourself. Not that he would have, had you said it aloud.

“We marry, you don’t have to deal with them ever again, and you’re free,” he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You can even get a boyfriend, if you want, I don’t mind.”

“And then what, Satoru?” You can’t keep the irritation out of your voice. “We live complacently in our loveless marriage and I help you rebuild your clan, give you an heir even stronger than you, and we all live happily ever after? You, me, and our respective side pieces?”

Satoru goes quiet. For all the times you’ve told him to shut his mouth, his silence puts a pit in your stomach. The air doesn’t feel quite right without his voice.

“Hey, I–”

“I thought we knew each other better than that,” he says quietly.

Something ugly wells inside you. A warped monster born of feelings you locked away years ago. It lived in the dark, starving, uncared for until it morphed into a malicious caricature of what it used to be.

No matter what you feared you felt, you couldn’t love Satoru Gojo. Period.

One day, you’d be free. You would withhold the usage of your Blessed Womb from the world. You would go childless to maintain scraps of your autonomy, and you’d learn to live your own life. Study jujutsu sorcery, rent an apartment you could decorate. Anything to stop feeling like you were being jerked around by fate.

As for Gojo, he wanted a family. Something to call his own, where he didn’t have to be the strongest. He could just be Satoru. And to accept that life with him would mean compromising your own desires. Besides, was your love for him a choice you made or was it yet another thing fate wanted to force upon you?

“I’m sorry,” you say, because you are. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.”

He lies down on his side facing you. You respond in kind, rolling over to face him just like the first time when you were children.

Your clan would be scandalized by your proximity. His warm breath tickles your face. He smells of crushed spearmint and clean linen.

Funny how if your lives weren’t so intertwined, you might’ve let yourself love him fully.

Gojo leans forward slowly enough for you to pull back if you want. Against your better judgment, you don’t. He stops and it becomes quickly apparent that he won’t move any further. If you want this, you have to close the gap.

All you want is to close your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. You imagine they’re soft as he claimed and you’d know you’re in trouble when the butterflies aren’t just in your stomach. They’d be splashed across your nose, collecting in your fingertips, and fluttering down your legs, and just like that, you’d be his.

You can’t have that, now, can you?

Gojo’s eyes snap open when your warmth disappears. You sit up and he follows suit, looking more uncertain than you’d ever seen him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks and you shake your head furiously, both as a response and to clear your head.

Avoiding his gaze, you reply, “No?”

“Is that a question or?”

“Look, Satoru, we’ve had a lot of firsts together and today was the first time we didn’t, right?” You rip up the grass beneath you in your fingers.

Gojo jumps to his feet, furious. “No way you’re punishing me for what happened with Suguru!”

“I’m not punishing you for shit!” You throw your hands up in the air. “Can’t I say two sentences without you interrupting me?”

“Then talk!” Gojo shouts back, uncaring that the two of you could be heard. “Explain to me what your problem is!”

“I’m surprised you wanna hear it, at this point!” you retort, getting to your feet.

“Of course I do! I always do when it’s you!”

“All I’m saying is maybe we don’t have to be each other’s firsts for everything! You got to have your first kiss with your first love, so I want to save mine for the same!” you finish.

Gojo freezes, and you take that to mean you’re right on the money.

“I–” you run a hand through your hair. “I know you like you know me. And I’ve never heard you talk about anyone or anything the way you talk about him, so. Yeah. I’m not mad, Toru. I promise. I am happy for you.”

His face is unreadable, which is saying something coming from you. Your oldest friend looks a mix of incredulous, confused, and something else you can’t place.

He shakes his head. More. And he keeps shaking it until you think his eyes are going to fall out.

“You know what, I–” He groans in frustration. “You’re impossible, you know that? I’m not mad you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine, that’s up to you, I would never hold that against you in this lifetime or the next or the dozen after that, but my problem is with everything else you just said!”

“Who said I don’t want to kiss you, Toru? Don’t put words in my mouth!” you reply.

“Is that the only thing you listened to?”

Something inhuman screeches near the front gate, effectively cutting off the conversation at hand. You pale. With someone as valuable as you on the premises, the Utahime Estate had state-of-the-art protections in place. Nothing unauthorized should have been able to make it anywhere near.

Gojo puts his glasses back on. “Stay here.”

“What? No, I’m coming with you!” you insist, but he’s not having it.

“Just because I taught you to fight doesn’t mean I want you doing it! Stay here!” And with that, Gojo runs off into the night.

You watch him take a few steps then disappear and not for the first time, you wish you could teleport, too. Reaching into your sleeve, you pull a spool of red thread from a small pocket inside.

Seconds later, their hair on your arms stand on end and a sense of foreboding overtakes you. You hear a low growl behind you and smile. Time to put Gojo’s teachings to the test.

Your clanmates find you right where Gojo left you, panting and covered with curse blood and unidentifiable chunks. Red threads hang tangled and limp from both your hands.

The clan’s matriarch, your grandmother, shuffles up to you and grabs your chin, tilting it from side to side searching for blemishes of any sort. Meanwhile, the rest of the clan fussed over how a curse could have made it past the protections.

“Where’s Toru?” you ask tiredly. The cursed spirit that attempted to ambush you was relatively easy to beat, large, but awkward and slow-moving, but it still took some movement on your part to dispatch it. You could only hope that Gojo didn’t meet anything too menacing.

Right on cue, because he loved to make an entrance, Gojo strolled across the yard, hands in his pockets like it was a warm, sunny day in the park and not nearly midnight. But what really caught your clan’s attention was the tall, wide older man marching at his side. You’d never seen him before and you couldn’t recall Gojo mentioning him in any of his stories from school.

Gojo walks right through the small crowd and stopped in front of you and your grandmother.

“Everyone, I’d like you all to meet my teacher, Mr. Masamichi Yaga,” he says.

The older man bows to the matriarch. “As Gojo said, I’m a second-year instructor at Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

Your grandmother gives a withering stare of disapproval. “And I assume Satoru has a very good reason for bringing an unauthorized adult man onto my estate, especially with my granddaughter present.”

With an appearance as painstakingly maintained as yours, you and your clan quickly learned that the men that got to be in your presence required strict curating, lest the wrong man get the wrong idea.

“Actually, I’m here because of your granddaughter,” Yaga says.

“What would a jujutsu instructor possibly want with her?” When your grandmother asked questions, it wasn’t because she needed an answer. More often than not, she’d already put two and two together and was seeing if they had the balls to say it aloud for her.

“I mean, she just slayed a Grade 2 cursed spirit, so,” Gojo shrugs.

Everyone who knew of Satoru Gojo had an opinion of him, and people could say what they wanted, but if nothing else, he was a gifted instructor. Every movement during your fight felt comfortable, confident, controlled.

“Lady Utahime, it is as good as law that those who possess a cursed technique must attend formal schooling in jujutsu sorcery,” Yaga explains something she knows full well.

Your grandmother gives him a long look, then glares at you.

“It seems as though she’s picked up a thing or two on her own.” Her gaze pierces through Gojo and it was unclear who truly possessed the Six-Eyes. To his credit, though, he just smiled at her guilelessly. She clicked her tongue. “Well played, Satoru.” To you, she says, “You will perform your full duty to the clan. We did not spend generations building our life only for you to squander it with your selfishness.”

You blink. “Yes, grandmother.” You’re honestly lost at this point.

“Pack your things, get out of my sight. Yaga, come with me to discuss terms.” She turns to head back towards the house with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Let us pray that Satoru Gojo truly is the strongest.”

The rest of the entourage follows close behind her. You watch them go until Gojo slings an arm over your shoulders, nonplussed by the blood and entrails still covering you.

“Yay! Let’s go pack your stuff!” He drags you towards your room. “You can live right next to me, and whatever you don’t have, we can buy in the city, my treat!” He cheers.

“Hold on!” You pull back and easily slip out of his grasp. Clearly he only meant to guide you and you were always free to escape his hold. “What am I missing here?”

Gojo grins boyishly and takes you by the hands.

“Starting right now, you’re going to be a student at Jujustu High!” he announces.

Your jaw goes slack. “What? I can’t! I’ve never even left the estate! My grandmother would never agree to this!”

Taking one hand and dropping the other, Gojo pulls you - more gently - towards your room.

“She just did. Now, come on! Before she changes her mind!”

As you struggle to keep up with his long strides, the pieces begin to come together in your mind. Your grandmother was always very strict, to say the least, and she insisted that you complete your duty to the clan. Since birth, it had been drilled into your head that your bride price, along with other gifts of good will and an alliance with another clan, would single handedly revive your dying clan. To be fair, you could see the logic. You only wished you didn’t have to sacrifice every aspect of your life.

But maintaining your beauty was a show of wealth. Your Blessed Womb would be plenty to secure everything the clan needed. With it, even if you had one eye and three noses, you’d have a barrage of suitors.

What’s more, doctors concluded that your unnaturally high output of cursed energy was the key component in your mother’s death during your birth. Grandmother hadn’t done anything about it yet, but it was the general consensus that if you had a strong control of your own technique, your chances of surviving childbirth were much higher. There was just that one final push to force your grandmother to relinquish control of you.

“Those curses didn’t break through our defenses,” you say in realization. “You let it in. That’s how Mr. Yaga was here.”

Gojo doesn’t turn back, but you can see his cheeks shift with his smile.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he says.

“That’s why you were late today,” you say quietly. A pit grows in your stomach. “You were setting all this up.”

He squeezes your hand and guides you into your bedroom. He lets you go and flops onto your bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish.

“I promised I’d help you be free of this estate one day. Remember what you said to me a couple years ago?” he asks.

Forcing yourself to move, you pull out the necessities and throw them on the bed. “Not really, no.”

“You said, and I quote,” he took on a high-pitched falsetto, “”If I spent all my time waiting for a man to rescue me, I’d never get anything done.” Do you remember that?”

Vividly, but you decide he doesn’t need to know that. You already gave him a free pass for that piss poor imitation of you. You grab a few select pieces of your favorite hair accessories.

“Sort of,” you reply.

“All I did today was give you an opportunity.” His eyes, the color of the heavenly sky, focus on you. “Congratulations, my twin flame. You rescued yourself tonight.”

(A/N: Will this get more parts? Probably. Lmk what you think and thanks for reading <;3)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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blossomwritesthings · 8 months

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𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭.

pairing: minho x felix (minlix)

genre: nonidol!minho/nonidol!felix. straight (??) minho and gay felix. childhood friends to lovers. some angst. fluff. pining galore. kinda confession au. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. felix pov.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. the angst isn't too strong in this one. sexuality is questioned and destroyed in these parts. felix is pretty down bad for minho in this one. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 5.5k

summary: minho has always been straight and felix has always been gay. but after a certain incident happens during a drunken game of truth-or-dare between friends, sexualities and feelings will be thoroughly questioned.

18+ warnings: dom!minho x sub!felix. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends). anal sex/fingering. a blowjob is given. jerking off happens. kinda spit kink??. degradation (slut, whore, fuck toy, etc.). kitchen sex. pet names (baby boy, doll face, etc.). dirty thoughts/fantasies. masterbation. voyeurism. pervy!minho. sex toys (butt plugs, cock rings, vibrating dildos). scratching. LOTS of hair pulling. ownership/possession. cum play. breeding kink (you know i had to get it in there). somewhat dumbification. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. nipple play. lots of dirty talk. cock training is mentioned. subspace. loud sex. minho has a really big cock. size kink.

a/n: what can I say, ya'll??? I'm just a complete and messy slut for minlix at this point... 🤷🏼‍♀️ I really don't see myself getting over them anytime soon... especially after they have moments like that one during the stay week live. yeahhh, I might've replayed that scene with them whispering 'Ily' to each other like, a thousand times over, but who's counting, right?? 😃👍🏼 idk there's just smth about their dynamic... how opposite they are to each other, yet perfect for each other in the same way, that just REALLY gets me!!! 😫 anyways, I went pretty ham on this one haha, I did not expect for it to be this long or this filthy, but I got inspired to write it from this one bl booktok I saw a few days ago, so... here we are!! 🫣

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇ��

“I dare you to… kiss Minho!”

The moment the words fell from Seungmin’s lips, Felix was already majorly regretting getting roped into the game.

Hell, he hadn’t even wanted to play in the first place.

But his seven other friends were fairly convincing when under the influence of a dozen bottles of soju.

And Felix, being the “ball of sunshine” that he was, just couldn’t say no to everyone.

That, and the fact that the alcohol thrumming through his veins prodded him forward into the long game of truth-or-dare.

He wished he hadn’t picked dare at that moment.

Maybe then his heart wouldn’t be doing fucking summersaults in his chest and his cheeks wouldn’t feel like they were lit on fire from the other’s intense stares all around him.

“W-What? No way, Minho is-“ He started, eyes already searching around his circle of friends and finding his brown irises in the mix of everything.

The elder, cherry-red-headed male was the only completely sober one out of the entire lot, sitting there all straight-backed with his legs folded underneath him as he gazed on at the game in boredom.

But now he didn’t seem all that tired of the stupidity of it all.

No, now… he seemed quite intrigued.

“That’s a stupid dare Seungmin, and you know it.” Hyunjin threw back in the wake of the silence that had lapsed between everyone.

“Why? Because Felix is gay and Minho is as straight as a board?” Changbin chimed in with a hearty laugh as he took another long swing of his bottle of peach-flavored soju. “Oh please, give me a break… this is a fucking drinking game, for God’s sake! Have a little fun!”

Felix was a mass of twitchy limbs and nervous jittery energy there in his spot across the living room from Minho.

The elder man was still looking at him, regarding him with that silent, easy way that he was known for. Minho’s dark eyes swirled with curiosity, as they roved down the length of Felix.

He slumped down against the pillows at his back, heart pounding against his chest and threatening to break all of his ribs in one single breath.

“Let’s do it.” Is all Minho said with that easy smirk of his. The kind he always leveled at Felix whenever he was feeling extra playful.

Felix swallowed once, his fingers finding the hemline of his oversized tee and playing with the soft fabric there in his anxiety. He didn't want anyone to know - didn't want Minho to know - how he felt about the older guy.

That he had had a raging, impossible crush over him for years.

He didn't even know when the attraction had started. It was like one day he had woken up and suddenly... his childhood best friend Lee Minho looked so fucking beautiful to him.

He looked hot, too.

And slowly, Minho had started to become the sole object of all of Felix's desires.

He'd imagine what the red-haired male would do to him, late at night in his bedroom.

How Minho would look, hovering above Felix as he gave him exactly what he needed.

But all of those fantasies were entirely just that... fantasies.

Because Minho was straight. He had only ever dated hot women before - whether they were girls he had picked up at the local club for a night, or a handful of his coworkers that he saw daily. And he had claimed in the past multiple times that he was never changing that.

Felix knew that he would never be the thing - or the one - to shift Minho's way of thinking.

He wasn't that special.

So he'd just have to live with the fact that-

"Felix, come here."

Minho's voice came out all dark and whispery like he meant for only the younger man to hear it. Panicked, wide eyes shooting up to meet his stare, Felix watched, as the shadows danced across his face.

The command fell from the elder's lips effortlessly. And like a man in possession of an evil spirit, Felix already found himself moving. Limbs picking up from his spot across the way from Minho and moving towards him without any form of hesitation.

Felix wasn't even registering what he was doing. He was just breathing on autopilot, letting his muscles become controlled by the way Minho was crooking a finger his way, beckoning him slowly and silently.

Then, soon enough, Felix was blinking straight again and seated in Minho's lap, with either of his knees around his waist.

"Minho- we don't... I know you're-" he started, losing his words halfway through his thoughts as he realized how fucking close they were. The rest of his friends melted away into the background, and he lost track of the fact that they had an audience.

All he could focus on was the way Minho was looking at him just then... eyes hooded just a tiny bit. Rosy, plump lips ticking up into a devilish, sardonic kind of smile. His eyes ran over the length of Felix's face in bated silence, and then he was reaching up with two hands, brushing gentle fingers against his chin and locked jaw, before finding the nape of his neck, long digits sinking into the soft locks of Felix's hair.

"It's okay baby... just let me take care of it, hmm?" Minho's voice was barely above a whisper, and the sound of it immediately shot shivers down Felix's spine. The elder tugged a little bit at his long, raspberry-blue locks, bringing him closer than ever before. Felix had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to keep in the strangled moan that threatened to escape from deep inside of him. "It's just a game, right?"

Felix only had time to swallow around the lump in his throat once, as in the next breath, he was enveloped in the scent of... him. He could do nothing else but desperately take in shallow breaths as Minho's lips wrapped around his.

The fit was fucking perfect.

And the moment the elder's tongue darted out, the tip tracing the line of Felix's mouth, a tiny squeak fled from his throat. It was more of a quiet groan, but he hoped that none of the others could hear it. Hell, that Minho couldn't hear it.

In a single heartbeat, Minho was yanking at his roots, hauling him closer as he deepened the kiss, tongue swiping over his mouth and silently asking for entrance. Felix's hands frantically grasped in front of him, searching for some kind of anchor. Anything would suffice, otherwise, he'd tip over the edge and wouldn't be able to hold himself back any longer.

So his small hands found purchase in the fabric of Minho's shirt, fingers digging against his chest and clutching there for dear life as the older's tongue dipped into his parted mouth.

The red-haired male tasted of nothing but sweetness... light, saccharine sugar that made Felix's stomach do twirls of anxiety and compelled butterflies to erupt all over his veils at the flavor of it all.

He pushed forward with a little more fervor, kissing Minho back with all of the energy that he felt building inside of him. It flooded through his veins, thrumming across his skin and dancing up the column of his neck. It came out in a furious flush of crimson. He could feel it paint his cheeks and nose and the tips of his ears, as Minho's lips worked against his so perfectly.

His body was pulled completely taut, like a bowstring ready to be released. Involuntarily, his hips wanted to move, to grind down against Minho's waist. But somehow, he managed to hold himself back.

And then almost as quickly as it had started, the entire thing was over. Minho was tugging away from him, a messy string of saliva dragging between their mouths. His lips were puffy and kiss-swollen, and Felix couldn't even imagine how he looked in that moment.

"Okay?" The cherry-red-haired male asked in a quiet voice that was meant just for Felix alone. His hands left the confines of his long blue locks, resting against either of his cheeks and brushing soft thumbs across the skin there.

"Y-Yeah... all good..." Felix mumbled, beginning to scramble off of his lap in his haste to retreat into himself. Felix didn't want to see the look on Minho's face when he eventually noticed the pink bloom on his skin. He didn't want the others to find out about his feelings... especially Minho.

The rest of the guys were silent, and Felix's eyes skirted around the room, completely avoiding Minho's form as he got back into his previous place amidst the blankets and pillows. He could feel the red-haired male staring at him, eyes searing holes into his skin as he regarded the younger man.

"Wow- that was-" Chan started, but was cut off by Felix shooting an anguished hand into the air.

"Let's just drop it, yeah? Who's next?" His gaze locked with Chan, and the expression he found there was one of pure, utter compassion and softness. Chan knew that he wanted to move away from the topic, so he started the game all over again.

And Felix sat there, practically fucking unraveling at the seams because he could still smell Minho's musky aftershave, could still taste him on his tongue, could still feel the way their mouths slid together effortlessly, could still hear the way Minho sucked in a sharp breath when Felix peeled himself away from him, his hips pressing against his for an instant.

"Strip for me, baby boy."

The command came out in that long, drawn-out voice of his. The one he always used on the younger when he meant business and wasn't playing around anymore.

Without hesitation, Felix was grabbing at the waistline of his sweatpants, shucking them and his boxers off of his legs.

The elder male said nothing else after that, strong hands coming up on either of his sides, fingers digging into the soft flesh there as he hauled Felix's body up onto the kitchen countertop, resting his bare ass against the cool edge of the white marble.

To Felix's utter surprise, the man before him slowly sunk to the ground, getting on his knees and positioning himself between his slightly opened legs. His red hair was a shock of brightness against the otherwise milky tone of Felix's thighs, and he swallowed deeply at the sight of it all. Like a bright flame amidst a white-out storm.

"You're gonna let me suck you off, right?" He purred, hands clasping onto either of his knees and stretching his legs apart. His nose nuzzled into the skin of Felix's inner thighs, planting kisses there. "Gonna let me make you feel good?"

Felix was nodding before he could even think better of himself and his sanity, unable to speak at that moment from the way that Minho was burrowing his face into his thighs, giving kitten licks to every part of him that was exposed.

Because he didn't answer, he felt the elder's teeth scrape against his skin, as he bit down slightly, forcing purple to begin blooming underneath his mouth. "Use your words, doll face... I won't ask again." His tongue dragged across the sting, soothing away the pain in an instant before he was moving again.

Further, and further up...

"Y-Yes! Please... suck me off- want you to suck me off right fucking now!" Felix all but whined out, hands outstretching towards the elder in supplication and finding purchase in his crimson roots.

At the feeling of Minho's hot breath fanning against his stiff length, Felix found his head stretching towards his spine, eyes already rolling into the back of his skull from the anticipation of it all. And when Minho blew a few puffs of teasing warm air against his tip, he shuddered like a psychotic bitch. Like one of those characters that they'd watch get possessed by an evil spirit or a ghost in a horror movie.

The way he was reacting to just the littlest of touches and actions was borderline freakish. The way Minho could simply breath on him and he was already falling apart at the seams, was something otherwordly.

Uncanny and bat-shit crazy.

At the feeling of Minho's tongue poking out between his pretty red lips and touching the tip of him, Felix was a total and complete goner. Fingers clutching into red waves a little bit harder, he desperately tried to bring the elder's face close to where he needed him most.

Then, before he could even compose himself for what was to come, Minho was already moving again... tongue flattening out against his length, dragging down the span of it, mouth wrapping around the tip that was already leaking out droplets of precum onto the tiled kitchen floor underneath them.

"A-Ah... yeah, just like that-" Felix mewled out in a breathy tone, nails digging into the scalp of the older as he rose higher and higher towards his release.

Tongue swirling around him, Minho's hands made quick work of the rest of Felix - fingers digging into one side of his hip, while his other hand was busy playing with Felix's hardening shaft. He swirled his tongue along the tip of Felix's cock, hand squeezing only slightly at the base in a teasing kind of way.

Felix was already trembling underneath his tongue, and his eyes shot open at the same time that the noises of Minho sucking him off filled the entire space around them. He looked down at the sight of the red-haired man between his legs - cheeks hollowed out and spit running down his chin messily as he fucked Felix with his mouth alone.

Minho stared up at him then, catching his gaze in the heated silence between them. The look in his eyes read pure and utter lust, the darkness swirling around his cheekbones as he took the entire length of Felix down his throat, sucking up and down with a lazy kind of rhythm. The sight that they were making together - with Felix's cum leaking out of his tip, and Minho's spit thrown into the mix, was almost enough to tip the younger over the edge.

"You're cock is so pretty, baby- so soft and cute..." Minho praised when he came up from his length to catch his breath. Then he was sinking back down again, pearly white teeth coming around the flushed flesh of Felix's tip. "Makes me want to suck you off for the rest of my fucking life if this is how good it's gonna be." He hummed, the feeling of the vibrations of his voice shooting gooseflesh across the younger's flesh.

Felix couldn't help but buck his hips upwards at the elder's words, loving the feel of his tip hitting the back of Minho's pretty throat. The rutting against his face caused Minho to gag again and again, but Felix was too fucked out of his mind and too crazed in heat to care about anything else at that exact moment.

"I-I thought you were- were straight," Felix panted out in that deep voice of his. The one that turned all husky and shit whenever he was filled with so much arousal it thrummed in his veins. His hands gripped a little harder at the back of Minho's hair, forcing his face close to his pelvis. "But the way you're sucking me off so well right now- makes me think the opposite."

Minho's tongue took a broad stroke of his cock, laving up the taste of him as he slowly pulled away from his girth, wiping the excess droll and cum off of his puffy, shiny lips. "Oh- I fully intended to stay that way, darling," he began, hinting at his sexuality as he smirked up at him and gave him a devilish kind of wink. The kind that made Felix go weak in the knees. "But then we made out at that party last month- and I couldn't get the thought of fucking you out of my head."

"I've had a raging crush on you ever since we were teenagers." Felix suddenly blurted out. At his confession, he could already feel the heat rising from his bare chest, washing his cheeks in cotton candy pink. "It was- pretty bad a few years ago... like, I couldn't sleep at night if I didn't jack myself off to the thought of you."

He felt dirty telling one of his best friends his deepest secret. It was one thing to keep it all bottled up inside - but to be naked before that same person you've been fantasizing about for so long, to have them on their literal hands and knees, sucking you dry, was a very different story.

His words forced Minho up from the ground, and soon, he was standing in front of him, hips between Felix's bare, parted legs and leaning into him. The elder male's hands came up to his face, stroking across the line of his jaw before coming up behind the nape of his neck and drawing him close.

"You've been so desperate for me, hmm?" He whispered, nearing Felix's space and breathing heavily against the skin of his cheek as he came in contact with the freckled flesh there. "My poor, poor baby... been so alone for so long, when all you ever wanted was me-"

Felix suddenly yanked his face out of his grasp, gaping up at him with wide, supplicant eyes. "P-Please, say that again."

"Say what?" Minho frowned down at him, dark brows tensing together as his chestnut-brown irises searched the face of the younger male.

"Tell me I'm yours- tell me I'm you're... baby."

Understanding dawned across Minho's face, and soon, he was leaning into him again, mouth covering up the empty space between them in the next instant. The kiss took Felix's breath away, and the way he could taste himself on Minho's tongue forced a little bit of his sanity to vanish into thin air.

Already feeling the arousal rise into the pit of his stomach just from the way that Minho's lips were connected with his - tongue dipping into his mouth - Felix made to frantically push him away, palming Minho's chest that was still covered up in the oversized grey hoodie he always liked to wear.

"So just- just fuck me already, will ya?" He all but begged, pressing his hips up against the elder's waist, grinding his hard length against him. "Just put me out of my misery and fuck me into oblivion. Please, Min- I need it so much, I-"

Minho peered down at him with that piercing gaze, the curve of his lips smashing into a thin line. "Quit begging me- I was already planning on fucking you the moment I felt your hard cock grind down on me during that stupid game." His command came out a little harsh in tone, sending a furious shiver up the length of Felix's spine.

The younger man said nothing more after that, just as Minho reached behind his back and stripped himself of his hoodie and oversized graphic tee. The smooth plain of his stomach left Felix swallowing down a groan, as his eyes traveled low, towards the dip at Minho's waist, and landing on the growing tent in his black sweatpants. Minho's skin glistened under the faint lights of the kitchen, muscles rippling with each sharp breath that he took.

Felix watched in silence as Minho seemingly pulled a bottle of lube right out of thin air. He could feel his dick twitching in bated want, as he followed each and every one of Minho's movements - from the opening of the bottle to the dripping of the clear liquid onto slim fingers.

"Take a deep breath for me, baby," Minho coached, tipping into his form and littering kisses against his exposed clavicle. Then one of his hands was wrapping around Felix's cock, pumping his palm up and down the rigid length.

Felix did as he was told, taking in shuddering gulps of air as Minho's lips came close to his again. "You ever done this before?" Felix suddenly asked, limbs twitching in anticipation as he felt Minho's fingers that were coated in lube dancing near his entrance.

"Nah, but I've seen you do it enough times to get the gist of it all." He sneered down at him, connecting their lips again in another feverish kiss.

And before Felix could even wrap his mind around what that meant, Minho was plowing a finger into him. The lube was cold against his skin and made him jump in the elder's hold. But then, Minho started thrusting in and out with languid strokes, and soon, Felix was moving against his hand, rutting himself atop his finger.

"Y-You watched me?" He managed to stutter out after they had parted to catch their breaths, just as Minho added another cool finger, slowly beginning to stretch him out. "When?"

Minho shrugged nonchalantly, almost like the thought of him watching Felix fuck himself alone in his room wasn't that big of a deal. Like they were sitting on the living room couch chatting over tea, and not in such a precarious position in his apartment's kitchen.

Just then, a wave of memories came over Felix. All of the guys had spare keys to each other's places, and Minho had one to his apartment. So perhaps the elder had caught him when he had snuck into his place to surprise him on a few rare occasions. He liked to do that quite a bit, to be honest.

Visions of what Felix liked to do in the privacy of his room came flooding back into his mind. Him, stretched out across his bed, his entire focus glued to his computer screen as he watched a hot gay couple act out some scene in one of the many porn collections that he had tabbed on his laptop.

Usually, he'd just lazily stroke himself til he came when he watched the porn. But then other times, when he wasn't in the mood for any porn, he'd find himself losing his mind over the thought of Minho. First, he'd stroke himself as he imagined what it'd feel like for Minho's hands to replace his. Then, he'd lube himself up and finger his hole until he was crying out in agonizing bliss.

The orgasms were always mind-blowing when he imagined Minho in the depths of his fantasies. Sometimes, he'd shove a huge, realistic-looking vibrating dildo up his entrance and grind down on it, fucking himself silly to the thought of riding Minho into oblivion.

Other times, he'd stick a butt plug up his ass and fit a cock ring over the length of his cock, envisioning that Minho was the one who was using the toys on him in utter punishment because he had misbehaved for some stupid reason.

Almost every time that Minho was the object of his fantasies, Felix would be a moaning mess in his bed - squirming and whimpering out his name in pure, unadulterated lust.

And to think that the Lee Minho was in his place during some of those heated, private moments, watching through the crack of his bedroom door, was...

Embarrassing yet incredibly hot all at the same time.

"It doesn't matter when or how- and what can I say... you're really fucking cute when you're horny." He added a third finger after that, groaning against the stretch. "I heard you- when you'd cry out my name as you fingered yourself to the brink of ecstasy- as you bounced on that giant vibrating dildo you keep hidden in the depths of your nightstand drawer," Minho grunted out in a raspy tone, as Felix continued to grind down on his hand, forcing Minho to grip harder onto his throbbing cock. "Shit- you're so tight... gonna have to fuck this tight little hole right open..."

Felix bent forward, teeth taking hold of the elder's bottom lip and sinking down into the plushness there as he spoke in a whispery voice, "Just- stick it in already... I'm going to lose my fucking mind if I don't have your cock in me within the next two minutes."

Minho flashed him a sardonic smirk, licking his lips as he made quick work of his pants and boxers. "Say no more, baby doll."

At the sight of finally being able to gaze upon Minho's bare cock, Felix let out a flurry of whines and curses. Minho squirted out some lube onto his hand, palming his cock a few times to prepare himself. Then Felix was clutching onto his hips in hastiness, positioning the redhead right over his entrance.

Tipping his head back at the feel of Minho's blushed-red tip ghosting across his hole, Felix let out a deep groan, "Fuck- you're gonna be a bitch to take, aren't you?" He cracked his eyes open to see Minho grinning down at him with a shit-eating look on his face.

"Pretty much... all the girls I've slept with always have a hard time," then he was pressing into him, taking it inch by inch and yanking a string of moans out of Felix with each languid push. "But you're gonna do just fine- like the good little slut that you are, you're gonna take all of me."

Then, without any warning, he was ramming up into Felix, bottoming out in one go. The younger let out a scream that was a mix of pleasure and pain, his entire body convulsing from the feeling of it all.

"F-Fuck, you're fucking huge-" He mewled, nails digging into Minho's back as he began to move against Felix's hips with fluid strokes, thrusting in and out slowly at first.

"I'll have to train this pretty little hole to take me- train your mouth too," Minho growled in a gravelly voice, face sinking towards Felix's chest and tongue swirling around one of his pretty, rosy-red pebbled nipples. He bit down at the raised flesh there, yanking a tangle of sobs from the depths of the younger's soul. His palm squeezed down a little harder on Felix's own cock, as he set a merciless rhythm, pounding away at his entrance. "What do ya say? You- all splayed out on your bed every night, having me teach you? Having me tear you open so that you can take my cock like a good little whore?"

Felix swallowed around the strangled moan that threatened to escape past the lump in his throat, digging his nails into the skin of Minho's shoulders as his orgasm crested over the edge of his mind. "Mmh- fuck, yes... want you to teach me how to take it all- how to take this big, beautiful cock of yours."

At that, Minho rolled his hips into him at a vicious pace, thumb playing with the tip of Felix's cock, dragging the precum down the hard shaft. "That's my boy- suck a good slut for me... such a good fuck toy, hmm?" Then he was chuckling against his skin, as his mouth came open to suck around Felix's other nipples, tongue gliding up the skin around it. "Gonna be my dirty little secret, yeah? No one has to know that the resident straight boy is fucking you dumb- fucking the cock-whore dumb every night with his big, fat dick..."

Felix couldn't hold it in anymore, finally letting the strangled screams fall from his lips as he desperately chased his high. Hands frantically searching for purchase, he pulled at Minho's dark roots, letting his entire body get rocked backward from the rough thrusts of the man between his legs. The sounds of their fucking filled the entire apartment in a healthy coating of lust - the sound of Minho pounding away at his wet hole breaking off the last bit of resolve Felix had.

"I-I'm gonna come-" He shrieked out in anguish, clutching on for dear life to Minho's hair as the elder continued his frenzied speed. Felix felt like he was getting torn open at the seams from his cock alone, bleeding out with a mix of cum and lube and spit.

And then he was falling off of the cliffside, allowing the white-hot light of his orgasm to course through his veins. It ripped across his entire body, flooding his cheeks in heat and making his blood boil. His orgasm came out in white streaks, and when he felt a mouth hover over his length again, lapping up his seed in supplication, he all but came again - right then and there.

"Mhm- my baby boy tastes so good," Minho hummed out once he had finished cleaning Felix up, as he chased his own high, still plunging his length deep into the younger's hole, hitting that gooey spot inside of him again and again that made Felix's eyes violently roll into the back of his head every time. Like he was getting fucking exorcised or some shit. "Makes me wanna force you to cum every single fucking day, that way I can have you on my tongue at all times."

Felix felt him stiffen up inside of him, as Minho reached his peak. Grabbing at his locks, Felix pulled the older man close to him, pressing his mouth against his and swallowing up the groans that escaped past Minho's lips as his orgasm racked through his body.

The blue-haired man felt stuffed to the brim, as Minho shuddered against him, collapsing into his frame as he rode out his own high. Felix could feel the warm seed leaking out of his hole, and once Minho had regained some of his composure, he straightened up and stared down at the center of them, where their two bodies met.

"Gonna breed you so well, your cute little tummy will be full of my seed when I'm finished with you." The edges of Minho's lips ticked up into a wicked smile, like the filthy plans he had for the two of them were already running rampant in his mind, as he gazed upon their connected bodies. Minho's softening cock twitched a few times inside of him, and Felix squirmed at the feeling of him slowly pulling out.

"I love you, Min," Felix breathed out shakily, just as Minho's dick pulled free from him. The younger male reached up and pressed a gentle kiss against his jawline. "I was too much of a coward to ever tell you- but now... I'm sick of hiding how I feel."

He felt one of Minho's hands come up close to his entrance, as his fingers gingerly fucked the seed back into his shivering hole. Felix practically melted under his touch, bones turning to liquid from all of the exhaustion and arousal.

"I love you too, baby boy..." Minho started after he was finished, hands coming around either side of Felix's face as he planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Fuck- I adore you, so much. Gonna keep you as mine forever, yeah? No one's ever gonna get to love or touch or fuck you again except for me."

Felix flashed him a toothy grin, wrapping his slim arms around Minho's neck and drawing him close to his frame. He snuggled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his bare skin, fingertips ghosting over the hard planes of his muscular abdomen. "I'll be yours until the end of eternity- always wanted to be, Min..."

He allowed Minho to heave him up from the kitchen countertop, resting in the silence there as the elder's strong arms came around his bare waist. Minho effortlessly moved them into Felix's bedroom, and soon, his shock-blue hair was disheveled across his pillow.

The younger man stared up at Minho with narrowed eyes, already feeling sleep come over him. It had been a long night - hell, a long couple of years - as he waited and wished for nothing but Lee Minho.

But now, he was here, hovering over him and tucking the soft duvet under his chin. Now here he was, pressing a handful of delicate kisses to his lips in the silence of the bedroom.

"Sweet dreams, my darling boy..."

His calming, familiar voice was the final straw that allowed Felix to slip into dreamland. The feeling of his strong arms coming up around his waist anchored him into the lull of sleep, the drag of his hips backward helped to ease his mind, as he nestled against the front of Minho.

And just like that, he was lifting off into the stars, falling into his exhaustion with the comforting feeling of the man he loved all around him and inside of him.

Fin.

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