my most greatly beloved can i ask for nagi and 14.... thank u kindly
14: A tart, crisp apple covered in sticky-sweet caramel
TYSM FOR RESENDING ZERO SDJHFBV tumblr is on my shitlist,,,,, enjoy pouty nagi 😌
Biting your lip, you pointedly pick up another slice of apple and take a bite, humming quietly as you chew. It takes a moment, but eventually you swallow, and your mouth is freed enough from the sticky caramel trap to speak.
“You said you didn’t want it anyway.” You laugh a little, entirely unmoved by the whine Nagi lets out and the pout he’s giving you.
His hand reaches out. You slap it away, earning yourself another whine. “Your coach will murder me if I let you have this much sugar, babe.”
“He doesn’t have to know.”
“Reo will know. He’ll see it in your damn eyes.”
Nagi huffs. “Fuckin’ snitch.”
You shake your head in affectionate disbelief. “You don’t even like caramel, it takes too much effort to eat.”
“But you’re making it look so good…”
“No, that’s just the allure of the forbidden.”
Nagi makes a less half-hearted grab at the plate, but you’re still faster, snatching it up out of the way; his wingspan is massive, predictably so with his size, and it’s impossible for you to take it out of his reach entirely, but you aren’t trying to. You’re only buying yourself enough time to pluck the final two pieces from the ceramic and pop them both into your mouth.
By the time his fingers wrap around your wrist and he tugs it down, the plate is empty. This time he huffs, eyes snapping up to stare at you, half-lidded, from beneath the curtain of his white bangs. He lets his head drop to the table. You reach out to cradle his chin as you swallow one final time.
But before you can speak he surges up, so fast that the meeting of your lips is clumsy—his teeth clack against yours and his hand flies to your neck to tug you downward. When you let out a little yelp of surprise he mumbles a quick apology, but it doesn’t stop him from licking into your mouth, chasing the lingering taste of tart green fruit and burnt sugar, and it doesn’t loosen his grip in the slightest.
After the surprise wears off, you kiss him back, a little startled by the intensity. It’s rare for him to be so riled up—you wonder, fleetingly, if it’s about the food or if your teasing had done more work. Either way, it hardly matters, and you hardly want to waste energy pondering when you could be focusing on the way he’s now sucking on your tongue.
You’re panting by the time he lets you up. His eyes are cast to the side; he’s still pouting, though his lips are now flush and glistening, and he licks them like he’s the one who’s just finished eating a treat.
“Well. I suppose that’s not technically breaking your diet.”
He whines again as his head falls back down onto the table. “So mean.”
“Poor baby.” Snickering, you bend down closer, close enough to get him to turn and look at you. “Wanna make out more?”
There’s no hesitation. In fact, it’s almost rushed as he says, “Yeah.”