#i was looking for something else but i just saw this one lol i had totally forgotten it

[dehlizalah]

Phantom Touch

namgyu x f!reader

𖦹 tags: Slow burn, angst, heavy teasing, toxic relationship (ish), fwb,drugs, alcohol, situationship, descriptions of sexual activity but not really smut (yet)

𖦹 Word count: 4113

𖦹 Part three of Phantom Touch | Part one Part two

Namgyu becoming a little more softer in this one :)) We would cheer !!

You told yourself you were just being paranoid, that Namgyu was probably so shitfaced that he wouldn’t have even been able to distinguish your face. You leaned into the stranger, letting him kiss your cold body. You clench your jaw, trying to snap out of it. Your hands ache. A slow pulsing burn that itches far deep into your bones, something inside of you that is crawling to get out.

It’s the kind of pain that isn’t physical—not really. It’s something else, something worse. A muscle memory of a touch you shouldn’t miss. A phantom sensation of hands that aren’t there but might as well be.

You continued to entertain the man, until you felt a vibration in your bag, which was perched next to you. “One second,” you said abruptly as the man crawled off of you. You unsteadily reach from your bag to your phone, the warmth of the strangers touch still lingering. The vibration lasted about two beeps. Sliding your phone out, your eyes flickered through the screen.

2 New Messages

You knew who it was going to be. The thought of it makes your stomach churn. For a slight moment, you hesitated to even unlock your phone, your heart clenching strongly. You opened it, pleading that it wasn’t him.

You read the message and your heart stopped.

Namgyu: ‘Didn’t expect to see you here. lol’

Namgyu: ‘You good?’

That was it? Namgyu was normally a dry texter but this.. This felt like a taunt. A tease almost. No mention of what you were doing, no possessive digs as he used to, no sly remarks about the handprints the stranger left on your thighs.

lol. The single, meaningless addition made your stomach do cartwheels. He was trying to keep it light, acting like it was some coincidence. He acted as if you both had just randomly met in the streets, glancing at each other. No, he saw you do the things that he once did with you, with a man you had never even met before.

There was no changing the fact that you let a stranger touch you all over, that wasn’t even remotely the worst part. The worst part was namgyu, who watched every single second of it. He had seen you, the way your body reacted to a stranger roam your body, the way his lips hovered over your skin.

A lump formed in your throat. A mix of emotions flooded your mind. You should be angry, you wanted to be angry. The only emotion that you could seem to focus on was that familiar ache; the one that came from years of yearing and false love.

Your hands started to sweat, coating your body in a thin layer of unease. A clammy heat pulsated through your body, your fingers clenching the screen, unable to move.

The stranger next to you gently touched your thigh “Is everything good? You seem really sketched out right now.”

“Sorry i have to-“ Without finishing your sentence, you grabbed your bag stood up, looking for the bathrooms.

You pushed through the sea of bodies, the lights flickering on beat. The music floods the club, your head throbbing as you try to swim your way out. Your hands were still trembling, gripping onto your bag, like it was the last thing keeping your grounded, two feet on the floor.

You slipped into the bathroom, locking the single toilet, desperately trying to catch your breath. Leaning against the sink, gripping the edges so hard your knuckles become red.

Get a grip.

Seriously, you needed to get your shit together.

Exhaling sharply you looked into the mirror, barely even recognizing the person reflecting from you. Smudged eyeliner, your lips were slightly parted; lipgloss barely even on.

Your fingers trembled as you reached for a paper towel, tapping the towel on your skin. No matter how many deep breaths you took, the tightness in your chest refused to leave. It wasn't just the alcohol-it was him. Always him.

You told yourself you knew better than this.

You knew that namgyu enjoyed this, seeing you get all flustered at the thought of him. He likes the sense of power he gets from it. The possession. He likes having a hold on you.

Your phone buzzed again.

Dread slowly filling you up.

You squeezed you eyes shut for a second before forcing your self to look at your phone, opening the message.

Namgyu: ‘Didn’t take you for a club girl. Well, not anymore, at least. Guess old habits die hard. lol.’

Your jaw tightened. There it was again - that lol. You were convinced that he did on purpose, throwing it in like a careless shrug. To him this was funny, it had little to no significance to him, just like you had no significance to him either.

"Old habits die hard."

What did he think he was? Some all-knowing god, watching from above, smugly amused at your attempts to move on? As if he had you all figured out, like no matter how far you tried to run, you'd always come crawling back.

Like he wasn't the one who started the habit in the first place. Like he wasn’t the one who would beg to smoke together, like he wasn’t the one who took you to the club for the first time.

It was completely and utterly infuriating.

Your fingers violently curved around the phone, fighting the urge to say something sharp, something to hurt him like he hurt you. Something to cut a deep scar in him. But no, this is exactly what you thought he wanted. He wanted you to bite, he wanted you to be the one to crack first, to prove that even after everything that happened, you would always come back.

You really did fight the urge to say something, but your fingers had a mind of their own, the alcohol slurring from your mind to your fingers.

You: ‘Didn’t know you cared. Don’t worry, you don’t have to.’

The moment you sent the text, the read receipt popped up almost instantly. Of course, he saw it right away.

You watched the three dots appear, then disappear, like he almost didn't bother responding at all. Then-

Namgyu: ‘Didn’t say i did.’

So typical. This is exactly what you imagined him to say. Dismissing you with as little effort as humanly possible.

Your fingers twitched over the keyboard, the words practically clawing their way out. Fine.

If he wanted to be a dick, you could match him. After all, leaving him was all about making him feel how you felt, right? to make him suffer; even if it was a small fraction of what you felt.

You: ‘Right. You just text every random girl you've fucked in the middle of the night for fun? Damn, must be exhausting.’

Sent. Delivered. Read.

You hoped this would give you some leverage. You hoped that he would actually think for once, think about his real feelings.

And then-

Namgyu: ‘You think you're special?’

Namgyu: ‘Lmao.’

Namgyu: ‘Hate to break it to you.’

Namgyu: ‘You're not the first.’

Namgyu: ‘You're not the last.’

Namgyu: ‘Don't make this deeper than it is.’

All of the messages came in one rapid burst, leaving him little room to even breathe yet think about what he was saying. It was subtle, and maybe you were reading into it too much, but you knew what this meant: frustration. Frustration. Namgyu acts all erratic when he doesn’t get what he wants. He probably did a line of coke before texting you, hence the reckless behavior.

You let out a soft chuckle, this was funny. He acted like you were nothing to him, just another saved contact on his phone, yet here he was; blurting out the first thing that came to his mind.

Should you even bother responding? Maybe you should have let him drown in his words. This was too much of an opportunity to miss. If he wanted to play the game, why don’t you?

You: ‘Funny. You act like you don't care, but you're the one blowing up my phone.’

You: ‘What's wrong? Not enough coke in the world to make me go away?’

You: ‘Must suck.’

Read.

The silence on your screen sent wavelengths, that was all you needed to know. You had finally got under his skin. You thew away the paper towel that you used to wipe yourself down, and was met with another vibration off your phone again.

Namgyu: Hope he fucks you better than i did. Shouldn’t be hard right? You looked real desperate out there.

For a slight moment, you stood still, his words impairing your vision. A slow feeling of heat crawled up your spine, clamping onto your sides.

He was pissed.

Not in the usual way, where he would act like he didn’t care, dismissing everything you had to say while he rolled his eyes, pushing his long hair back. No, this was different, it had gotten ugly really quickly.

That’s what he saw out there? He saw you as desperate?

Your fingers curled around your phone so tight your knuckles ached. It would be easy to snap back, to give him what he wanted — anger, frustration, proof that he still had a hold on you.

But no. Not this time.

You: ‘You can see from those VIP rooms, can’t you?’

You: ‘Must be nice having such a perfect view, should i send you a video?’

Read.

You unlock the bathroom, strutting into the club. You came out a different person than before. The girl that looked in the mirror, crying, gasping for air was no longer seen. Without further hesitation, you walk up to the bar, and order two shots. Anything strong.

While waiting for the shots, your phone buzzed in your bag once again. Damn.. how much of your time does he need?

Curiously, you check the notification and just as you expected, it was namgyu.

Namgyu: ‘So this is what you do when i’m not around?’

Namgyu: ‘Didn’t know you were that desperate.’

A slight chuckle came out from your mouth. Not around? How contradicting. You knew he was watching from those vip areas, it was inevitable. You hoped he saw you laugh, you hoped it stung. You swiped away from the text, deliberately ignoring it and put your phone back in your bag. Sliding off the chair, you took the two shots and started to look around.

You gaze your eyes up to the vip rooms before looking back into the corner you were sat at, the stranger still surprisingly still there. His eyes flick over to you; laced with curiosity. Kneeling down to the table, you slide the shot his way and smiled brightly.

“Consider this… an apology.” you say softly, trying to get on the man’s good side. “For leaving you hanging” You continued.

He laughed taking the shot and signaling you to clink glasses. “Cheers!” You both say laughingly.

Whilst you and the man were having a good time, conversely, namgyu was loosing his temper. Insanely quick.

As you laugh with the stranger, you feel the weight of a gaze burning into your skin. You don't need to look up to know exactly who it belongs to.

Your phone buzzes again. You take your time, dragging your fingers along the rim of your empty glass before finally checking the message.

Namgyu: ‘Keep playing with me.’

Namgyu: ‘You really think he wants you?’

He’s starting to unravel, his raw feeling starting to show. You tilt your head, focusing up to the vip rooms, looking through the slightly steamed windows. Even with the dim lighting you can still make up a long slender figure, he looked stiff. Angry.

You smiled one more time looking up at him before focusing back on the stranger, leaning in enough to close the small gap between each other. Your draw your fingers up his arms, letting out a small giggle.

As the next song plays, you pick up your phone and start to type.

You: ‘I don’t know… He seems quite interested.. in me.’

You: ‘Maybe i’ll let him find out what you couldn’t.’

Read.

He had practically been glued to your messages, waiting for anything. He read it almost immediately again. It feel like the energy had shifted. The air feels more tighter, it’s subtle, quiet but definitely there.

You can feel namgyus eyes follow your every move, beaming into your skin like lasers. You couldn’t see his expression from up there, but you didn’t need to.

The stranger starts to catch on, he notices the shift in your moods, how you were extremely anxious before now you look like your on top of the world.

He leans forward, tilting his head trying to read your expression. “So.. i don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but before you didn’t really seem like this place was… you know.. your scene.”

You dragged your fingers around the rim of your glass, trying to resist smiling.

“That’s funny, someone just told me that.”

You felt amused. Even a random stranger could tell the difference, that meant namgyu definitely had. It would make him itch, grip onto the table in pure frustration. Exactly what you wanted.

Once again, you are met with a vibration of the phone. Do you even need to check? You already know— it’s going to be him. You try to hold the pure enjoyment you get out of this, it was euphoric. You were finally getting what you wanted.

Namgyu: ‘Stop.’

Namgyu: ‘You don't even like him. What are you trying to prove?’

Namgyu: ‘We both know you'd rather be here

—with me. So quit wasting time.’

The vulnerability was practically seeping out through these texts, of course, he couldn’t just ask for you. He had to act like you’d eventually come crawling, like you were already his. How pathetic.

You tap the glass of your drink, once again glancing at the vip section. You know he’s there, watching this mess unravel, one by one.

You softly grabbed the strangers collar, letting out a laugh, dragging your fingers on his cheeks, ruffling his hair. Namgyu loved it when you did that to him, how you twirled his hair around your fingers and brushed your soft fingertips against his face.

The stranger is saying something— laughing, but you can’t seem to focus on that. You’re focusing on tracing the exact places you once did with him, twirling his hair nice and softly, making him tingle. You keep your touch slow, calculated.

You were touching him, lovingly. But it wasn’t for the stranger, it was for him.

Namgyu.

Another buzz.

Namgyu: ‘You really think that man cares ?’

Namgyu: ‘Men only want sex, don’t be a fool’

Namgyu: ‘He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get you like i do.’

You brush your hands through your hair, then softly dragging your nails against the man’s jaw, just to be petty.

Another buzz.

Namgyu: ‘Look at him, he’s practically stiff.’

Namgyu: ‘Your weirding the poor guy out.’

Namgyu: ‘Quit the act, just come up here.’

The entitlement radiates through the phone, but behind the phone, you could practically taste his jealousy.

You smirked, letting his words marinate, no response for him. You climbed up the stranger and sat on his lap, facing toward him. The stranger held onto your waist, pulling you in as he layed a sloppy drunk kiss on your lips.

You still felt the weight of namgyus stare, pressing you down. You felt electric, this is the best dopamine rush you’ve experienced in a while; the same feeling you once felt when namgyus hands were on you, it had come back. The idea of him watching was lighting a spark in your head.

You slowly and sensually started to move your hips back and forth on the man’s lap, your mouth slightly parted with a small smirk. The strangers grip tightened, his hands lazily moving up and down your waist. Your mind is elsewhere, on him, who were stood behind the glass of those VIP rooms.

Another buzz.

You climbed off the man’s lap, wiping his spit off your lips. Glancing at your phone, you tell him you’re going to get more drinks and walk over to the bar.

As you step away, the air becomes more tense. The thrill of being watched lingers through your skin, the weight of namgyus stare pressing deeply into you.

Sliding yourself onto the chair, you order another drink, as you wait you unlock your phone.

Then you finally look.

Namgyu: ‘That was for me, wasn’t it?’

Namgyu: ‘Just say it didn’t mean anything.’

Namgyu: ‘Lie to me.’

Lie to me. Lie to me? A three word sentence, so easy to understand. But it wasn’t that, it was the intent you couldn’t quite grasp. It would be so easy for you to lie to him. The weight of his stare felt like volumes, the way he watches, it makes your chest tighten.

You can barely make up your reflection in the phone, Flushed skin, lips once again parted, slightly shaking. His presence felt like a ghost. So far away, yet so meaningful.

Your bartender slides the drink to you, but you hadn’t even noticed. You were too spaced out. You exhale, thinking about how you reply to this.

Your fingers anxiously hover over the screen, hesitating every word that you type.

Tell me to stop.

Before you hit send, a slender like shadow falls over you.

The atmosphere shifts once again, that familiar sent of cheap musky cologne mixed with cigarettes formed behind you. The hairs at the back of your head stood.

And then—

A hand.

Long slender fingers decorated with chunky silver rings tap your hand. Your breath stutters, phone slipping into your pressed together thighs.

“You’re taking too long.”

Namgyu.

His tone is different to what you once heard. The raspy voice he would holler down your ears as you cried, begging for an answer.

‘Why don’t you love me?’

The phrase you once said repeatedly echoed through your mind, the memories once shared with him, the nights you spent shouting his name.

It had only been a week or so since you last talked, so why did it feel like it had been an eternity? Why did it feel like you had glued together the missing piece, after searching for ages?

The room feels smaller, like you were trapped; The music felt distant, it muffled behind the sound of your own heartbeat, pumping out of your chest.

He kept his fingers hovering over you hands, gently; but it felt as if he hesitated, like he doesn’t know whether to pull you in or push away.

That was Namgyus whole deal. He never knew what he wanted.

One moment, he was lighting up a joint sat on your mouth, smirking as he flicked the lighter. The next moment, he sat at his desk beside his bed, acting like the history you two had shared the night before was all a myth, nothing but a piece of fiction.

You swallowed hard as he reached for the phone you had dropped, due to his presence. He grazed his fingers between your thighs, gripping the phone, unlocked.

Tell me to stop

He swiftly takes the seat next to you, tapping is fingers on the desk, holding the phone in the other.

“You wanted me to see that?” His voice became small, a little cocky but he had held back. “Or was it just for you?”

You gripped both of your thighs and held strongly, frustratedly. The aching pain of anxiety pulsated though your palms. You need to push him away, now. It’ll never happen if you don’t do it now.

His eyes are stuck to you, like he’s too afraid to blink. He was filled with such emotion, it was almost indescribable.

Yearning? Desperation? Possession?

You can’t read him, even namgyu can’t read himself, right now.

His fingers linger against your wrist, his thumb barely touching over your pulse. He feels it-how fast it's racing, how much this moment is getting to you. And he likes it.

"You should've picked a better actor."

His lips curl into something smug, but his voice betrays him-low, strained, aching.

"He touched you like he didn't know what to do with you."

You swallow, trying to steady yourself. "And you think you do?"

His grip tightens. "I know I do."

His words were real, true. It was embarrassing. You urged yourself to become a better person, run away from things that hurt you, people that hurt you. But here you are, heart racing to the same man that you swore you’d never run back to.

It’s humiliating, how you fold to him every, single, time. His presence strips away every single part of resistance that you worked so hard to build.

Sure, the act earlier on was real, it was how you truely felt; this emotion now, it’s raw. A soft touch. Your heart is pounding — pulsating loudly. Not from fear, not from anger, but from something much worse. Incredibly worse.

Need.

Namgyu keeps his dark eyes upon you. His eyes were endless, like the space between stars in the dark nights sky. They held something desirable, heavy emotion, and something dangerously close to desperation.

His lips parted, as if he wanted to blurt something out, one last jab before you cave in. He hesitates, Maybe because he knows you already know the truth just as much as he does.

You’re not running away.

Not really.

Your running away from your emotion, that deep feeling of dread that lingers apon your ever morning after spending the night with him.

He lets out a soft exhale, his grip on your wrist slightly tighter — not letting go but conversely not keeping you there. You could leave whenever your heart desired. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Your heart desires what your mind doesn’t. Your body desires the opposite of your mind.

“You always run,” he says, his voice soft, delicate. The bitterness that usually graces his tongue is absent, replaced by something quieter, something real.

He brushes his warm hands against yours, the rough cool metal of his rings sends a shiver down your spine. His hands feel rough in random places, calloused along the pads of his fingertips.

“You could go,” he says underneath his breath, his space like eyes flickering between yours. “You have always been able to go.”

“But you don’t want to, do you?”

The way he says it, it was far from a question. As if he had found the last peice of a puzzle. No cockiness, no small disrespectful remarks, just honesty. Pure, truthful honesty. This was unusual for him to show so much.. emotion.

You force yourself to look down into your lap, only this made it worse, it made you realise that his hand on yours was the touch you had been craving for so long. The warmth, the weight, the silent promise in the way his fingers curl around yours.

You force the lump that was once again forming in your throat, you wanted to tell him how you truely felt, the words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, desperate to climb out. Just this once, you would let yourself let go.

“It doesn’t matter what i want Namgyu. You know that.” Your voice unsteady. “It doesn’t change the way this night will end. It doesn’t change the mornings id wake up dreaming of something that we didn’t have, and what we could of had. It doesn’t change the way you change between day and night.” You inhale, sharply shaking your head as hurtful tears start to form. “So tell me, what is the point in even acknowledging what i want? It does not matter.”

Tears fell like a gushing wave, you felt frustrated. Emotional, it was indescribable.

Namgyu exhaled. For once, he didn’t look cocky or smug, like he was going to shout out some careless remark and call it day.

For once, he looks real. Sober, somehow. He had definitely done drugs, but you were blinded by it, emotions speaking for itself.

You can’t do this.

“You don’t—“

Just as namgyu starts to speak, his hands frustratedly brushing through his long hair, You step back from the chair, unlocking your hands from his. “I can’t do this right now.”

Your voice trembles, betraying all of the honest emotions flooding your brain.

You stormed out, head low, tears falling violently. You don’t even wait for his reaction, you were too scared of confirming those very real emotions. Shoving through the crowd, the pulse of the music vibrating through your shoes.

You don’t know where you’re going— you just knew you had to go, for good.

Until.

A hand grabs your wrist, firmly. You started to tense, already knowing who it was.

“Please.”

[my-mind-mansion]

❤️Alastor takes you on a date for valentines day❤️

(And makes whoopee with you afterwards lol) {Alastor x reader/ sex with meaning/ mild vanilla missionary sex/ fem receiving/ romance/ romantic sex/ slow burn/ Valentine’s special.}

This year was no different than every year previous. You had no plans for valentines day and had already gotten ready for bed (it was 5 pm). Once you settled on the couch in your pajamas, Alastor came bursting through the door with a huge grin on his face. He was up to something, you could tell. He stood directly in front of the tv and demanded you give him your full attention. You smiled and put your phone down. “My dear, I have something important I’d like to say to you.” He said, hardly containing his excitement.

You sat up straight and leaned forward. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately and.. well, this connection I have with you.. I’ve never had it with anyone else.. so, I was hoping you’d be my valentine! And let me spoil you with a romantic outing!” He got down on one knee as he pulled out the traditional bouquet of red roses from behind his back. You gasped and blushed. This was the last thing you were expecting of Alastor. It was true that the two of you had spent a lot of time together and you were more than well-acquainted. Alastor was quite the dreamboat, especially on his knees, practically courting you like this.

Your heart and mind competed in speed over who was racing faster. You sat there, stunned and in silence. Your non-response stung like rejection in Alastor’s chest. “Oh please say yes! I’ve made reservations for places I just KNOW you’ll love!” He said, as you slowly grabbed the bouquet. You were unsure. “You’re.. not messing with me, right?” You asked. While this is what you dreamed of at night, it was extremely out of character for him. “Of course not!” He stood up and snapped his fingers, instantly changing his daily suit into a fancier tailcoat. You blushed even deeper red. Wow he was handsome. “Now, I want you ready in an hour! I’ll be waiting right here.” He said, sitting on the couch and turning the tv off.

Without another word, you made your way to your bedroom to get ready. You were nervous. You quickly did your makeup, hair, and picked out your outfit and accessories in silence. You were still uneasy. While you wanted this to be true, Alastor was a trickster and a deal maker. You sprayed perfume and grabbed your phone. You headed back to the living room and met Alastor’s gaze. You saw him physically react to seeing you all dolled up. His hungry eyes were feeding on you as his cheeks flushed pink.

You met him halfway in the room. His hands were immediately on your body, feeling you up. He leaned into your hair and inhaled your scent. He sighed lustfully. Your skin was burning up. He casually kissed your neck. Your knees became weak as you nearly collapsed in his arms. You looked up at him with big eyes. His smile softened. “You look beautiful, dear.” He said. You swooned and giggled before collecting yourself and pulling away. “Alastor.. are you sure you’re serious?” You asked, insecurity present in your voice. He pulled you back in. “Yes.” He kissed your lips. You were speechless as he pulled away. “I want you. And I’m going to give you a valentines date to remember.” You stared up at him. That was the first kiss the two of you shared.

“Now come on, I know you’re hungry. First up is your favorite restaurant!” He offered his arm, which you immediately accepted and held onto. You leaned into him with a dazed smile as the two of you strolled the sidewalks of hell. He walked with pride, puffing out his chest; as you clung to his arm and followed along without a care. You knew he would protect you, because nobody wanted to mess with the Radio Demon. It felt nice to be able to basically turn your brain off and follow him blindly. He seemed proud to have you on his arm as he greeted his fellow overlords when they passed by.

The dinner you shared was damn perfect. He held every door for you, pulled out your chair, and ordered you dessert. While your favorite restaurant’s food was always good, Alastor is what made the experience perfect. “So sweetheart, I hear the local theater is doing a production of Phantom of the Opera.” You perked up in excitement. His smile grew softer as he pulled out two tickets from his pocket. You blushed and batted your eyelashes at him as he tucked them back into his pocket. “I just wanted to let you know, I do pay attention..” you listened. “..and there’s good reason for you to not give me your complete trust.”

You watched as he snapped his fingers and summoned a demonic document. “But I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I want you to have a good time tonight, and you have my genuine word that my intentions are pure.” He said, signing the paper. “Did you just make a deal with yourself?” You asked him. “No. This deal states that if I’m lying, you gain full access to whatever punishment for me that you see fit.” He said, snapping it away again. You were speechless. He had really made the effort to reassure you in his own twisted way.“Anyway, I’m excited to see Phantom. I’ve actually never seen it live, have you?” He casually went on with the conversation.

You viewed him in a different light the rest of the evening. Little things that he would do meant the world to you. He constantly checked up on your mood by making quiet observations. Not once did he put you in a stressful or uncomfortable situation. The entire evening, he handled the conversations when anyone dared to question what the two of you were doing out together. There was also no way he was letting any man disrespect you. “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave us the hell alone.” He said dangerously to the drunk man in the restaurant who would’ve followed you home, if you were out on your own.

Once the two of you were back outside after your meal, you hummed girlishly and clung to his arm again, without a care in the world. He chuckled under his breath. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, dear.” He observed. You blushed and smiled up at him. “I am.” He brushed the lint off of your back and fixed your hair. You felt seen. Maybe he was serious about this. “Well, our next stop is the theater!”

The show went as expected and you lip synced nearly every word. Alastor held your hand during All I Ask of You. After the show, he led you out of the theater. You shivered. It had gotten chilly during the musical. The Radio Demon immediately draped his coat over your shoulders and wrapped his arm around you as you walked with him. “Alastor.. I’ve never felt this taken care of before..” you said, showing him an ounce of vulnerability. He stopped and picked a wild flower. “I promise that you’ll never feel neglected again.” He said, handing you the singular small flower. You took it and tucked it behind your ear. You would surely press it into a book later.

The two of you walked through the nicer side of hell- the park. The bushes and trees were illuminated by the brightly lit full moon above. You swore you heard ragtime radio in the air. Alastor smirked, noticing your reaction. The atmosphere was perfect for a midnight stroll and a romantic moment. He knew this. He had planned this for weeks. Your attention was caught on the dimly lit gazebo off the trail. “Since when does the city decorate for valentines day?” You asked him. He smirked. “They don’t.” He responded, slyly. Your eyes widened.

He pulled back the semi-see-through tule curtain, revealing the setting inside. “After you, sweetheart.” He said, motioning for you to enter first. It was straight out of a fairy tale book. The curtains provided privacy, but also let in the fresh breeze. There were dim lights strung through the ceiling and a rainbow of different flowers up the sides and the walls. You took it all in. There was a tray of multiple different alcohol choices in the corner. Next to it, his radio. The ragtime smoothly transitioned into a jazzier song.

He joined you inside and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in. “What would you like to drink, my love?” You were over the moon. “Oh- I- well-“ you hugged him and smiled. “Whatever you pour is fine.” He gave a soft laugh and poured two half glasses of the same wine. “Why don’t you try my favorite first and tell me what you think?” He handed you your glass. You sipped it once and quickly sipped it again. It was sweet, but smooth. “I definitely like it!” You said, finishing the first glass within seconds. “Well, I’ll say you do!” He chuckled and poured you a different drink. “How about this one?” You tasted it. “Mmm…” You learned very quickly that Alastor had great taste in fine wines.

The two of you were 5 or 6 drinks deep. You leaned into his chest, blinking up at him. It was getting warm- what with the combination of the wine, the curtains, and the tension between you two. He casually removed his coat from your shoulders and tossed it to the side. The jazz had turned into a hint of a slow waltz, exactly as planned. He took your hand in his and smiled down at you, drunkenly. His other hand was on your waist, swaying you to the beat of the music. You blushed. You could tell that he put effort into this entire date.

You wrapped your free hand around his shoulder, only clothed with his fancy fitted button up. You looked at the charming man in front of you. His perfectly dapper appearance was becoming slightly disheveled, due to the alcohol. You loved his silly old-timey accessories- his monocle- his pocket watch- his bowtie. His eyes were on yours and you couldn’t look away. You had never seen this side of Alastor before and it was better than you could’ve ever imagined. Soon, your eyes started to wander.

The wine gave you the confidence to run your fingertips down his back and explore every part of his backside, basically feeling him up. You weren’t even hiding the fact that you were checking him out, biting your lip as you took in how well-dressed he was. His shirt, tucked into his flattering fitted slacks, was an even more enticing view now that you were drunk. You grabbed his hips and ran your hands over his backside, groping him. He gasped, but allowed it. His bowtie, in desperate need of tightening, was simply begging you to pull it untied. You did. You couldn’t stop yourself from unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, either. He allowed it, but was taken aback. You leaned in and kissed his neck, that was taunting you all night. You got the desired response. He let out a breathy, weak gasp and moan that you felt deep to your core. You hugged him and he hugged you back, holding each other and giggling. “Alastor.. take me home~” you sweet talked him as you played with his hair. He instantly teleported the both of you back to the hallway of the hotel.

The two of you definitely had way too much to drink as you stumbled into his bedroom. He locked the door behind him and eyed you up and down as you got on his bed. You bit your lip lustfully and signaled him over with your finger. He couldn’t hold himself back from immediately pinning you to his bed and getting on top of you. You, in return, pulled him in close by wrapping your arms and legs around him. You smiled up at him.

The heat between your thighs was unbearable as he pressed his throbbing erection against it. You had only fantasized about him on top of you like this, and now it was your reality. He kissed you as he gently rubbed the huge bulge in his pants against the thin fabric of your underwear. You continued to hold him tight against you, pulling him in even closer. It was obvious you wanted him. The Radio Demon never broke eye contact with you as he slid your underwear off and unzipped his pants.

You felt his warm shaft introduce itself to the drenched folds between your legs. The Radio Demon rubbed himself up and down your soaked slit, not entering yet. You recalled the conversations the two of you had throughout the night and ran your fingers through his hair. You shivered when his pre-cum soaked head met your aroused clit. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as he gave your clit the attention it needed. You threw your head back and smiled.

He couldn’t help but slide his hand between your thighs and go right for the sensitive bundle of nerves at your core. Alastor lovingly rubbed it left and right with his finger. The waves of pleasure were washing over your body as your fluids multiplied and dripped down. “A-Alastor.. fuck me..” you begged him, running your hands over his broad shoulders. He didn’t need to be told twice. He smirked down at you and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance.

The two of you never broke eye contact as he slid his shaft into your slick sheath, painfully slow. You enjoyed every second as he nestled himself inside of you. He was soon balls deep, head pressing impatiently against the entrance to your womb, and face contorting in pleasure. You both gasped uncontrollably. You were united in the most intimate way. You cupped his face with both of your hands and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. The mumbles of ecstasy that he made against your lips were causing your walls to pulse and squeeze him tighter.

He began his thrusting, still going painfully slow. He wanted to make sure he treated you like the most fragile glass figurine. He had a secret fear of harming you, and did everything in his power to prevent it. He knew that he was powerful, strong, scary even. He took his time running his hands over your body and grabbing your hips, using them as leverage to push himself into you. He treated you with the utmost care and consideration, even though he was drunk. You clung to his shoulders, writhing underneath him as you curled your toes behind his back.

Your first time with the Radio Demon was an out-worldly experience. It was warm, romantic, and you felt every single inch of him. His name was under your breath at every thrust. Alastor was very vocal when he was in pleasure, not holding back a single moan. You looked up at the beautiful man on top of you. His tailcoat was long gone, thrown to the side somewhere; his slacks were somewhere nearby. His bowtie was untied and hanging from his neck, moving with him at every thrust. His fitted dress shirt had turned into a wrinkled sweaty mess, the top 4 buttons undone.

His eyes were on your face, his radio dials starting to become present. You could tell he was holding back, and you appreciated him being so gentle with you the first time. The next time though, you would make sure that you requested the sadistic, unfiltered, overlord demon to fuck you. You noticed he was even having a hard time holding back now, his tentacles and antlers peaking through. The radio on his nightstand emitted crackling static and the lights throughout the hotel flickered. “I- I’m close..” he whimpered in your ear. It felt incredible seeing this vulnerable side of Alastor.

Your ankles locked behind his back and your arms pulled his body flush against yours. “Cum inside of me~” you begged. There was no way he had the strength to pull out now. Not like he was planning to in the first place. His tentacles grew and wrapped around your waist as you heard eldritch wendigo squeals. You held him tight against you as he nearly transformed into his full demon form. He took one final deep thrust and spilled his seed into you. Your pussy throbbed as it got filled to the brim with his cum. Getting bred by Alastor was something you’ve only dreamed of. The two of you enjoyed the realm of pleasure that you created together as he stayed inside of you for a moment.

You were both out of breath as he rolled over by your side and scooped you up into his embrace. “Put your head on my chest, sweetheart.” You did. You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into him. You were mentally in outer space as you got to cuddle with your fluffy deer man. You giggled in his arms. He smiled down at you. “You are so incredible.” He praised, playing with your hair. “..and beautiful.” He kissed your forehead. His face was nuzzled into your hair as he held you against his chest. “You mean so much to me.” He spoke softly, rubbing your back. You continued to cling onto him, fully processing what had just happened. You thought back to the deal he made over dinner, how reassured you had felt then. You feel even more cared for now, after his passionate love-making. You looked up at him, nearly half asleep, but wanting to kiss him again. You puckered your lips. He held you close and lazily brushed his lips against yours. You both fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s embraces; your faces inches away from each other.

{First NSFW post!!}

[bellamoooon]

Childhood best friends to lovers, i love this concept a little too much and got carried away lol <33

She’d never know, at least that’s what he convinced himself of.

She’d never know that she was like a breath of fresh air after drowning for hours, that she was like the first bit of light rising up in the morning, that she was like the feeling of warmth when getting praised, that talking to her was like hearing his favorite song for the first time again, that her laugh was engraved in his brain and he could hear it even when she wasn’t around, that her presence radiated light that seeped right into his bones, that seeing her was like a shot of espresso immediately waking every nerve in his system, that her smile gleamed with such brightness it could light up the whole world in an eternal darkness, that her eyes said so much more than anything she had ever said, that she was a perfectly aligned harmony when everything else was out of tune.

She’d never know, but he did.

She lived within him; His whole life had been reduced to her.

“Wow Art, this is really good!” his literature teacher spoke as she read his paper, “y’know, if the whole tennis thing doesn’t work out, you could be the next big writer, I mean it.”

For his literature class, as a “creative exploration exercise”—his teacher calls it—they had been assigned to write a paper on someone of something which they could understand as unrequited love, of course he had chosen you, because what better example than you and Art.

You and Art have known each other since diapers due to your parents being best friends from their college days up to the present day, which sort of brought the two of you together one way or another, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would art.

Growing you with you might’ve been one of the best things he has ever been able to experience, he wishes people could actually get to feel what its like to be shined on by your light, for him, it truly is unearthly every time.

Sure, you two had distance shoved in your faces when he went to MRTA, but when he returned home for breaks, it was like nothing changed, it was just you and Art.

And of course as cliché as it may be, the inevitable happened, Art began to fall in love with you.

At first, he tried to convince himself that it was just the affection he had for his best friend, but he had no way to deny it. From the second he stopped just seeing you, but when he started seeing you.

He could try to blame it on his hormones and being a teenager, but everything else contradicted that.

In the summer, seeing you in your two-piece swimsuit didn’t seem the same, especially since you had started to grow into your big girl body, as his nana said.

At Christmas when he saw you walk into the living room dressed as Cindy Lou who from shoes to hair, with a goofy smile, but why did it make him blush? You seemed the same, you did this every year.

Patrick mocked him for having a small picture of the two of you in his wallet, but he didn’t care, whenever he was having a bad day, or missed home, he’d look at the picture, instantly erasing anything that disturbed his thoughts.

But you’d never know that. And he was okay with that. For the most part.

A couple of weeks he went back home for spring break, he was feeing at ease, he’d see his parents, his nana, and…you.

“Artie! My sweet boy!” his grandmother called out as he walked out of the car to the front porch with a suitcase in his hand, and a wide smile. His grandmother ran up to him wrapping her arms around him, her warmth immediately transferring to his skin, he was home.

“Nana, hey, how’ve you been?” he spoke with a sweet tone as he hugged her back. Sure, tennis was his whole life, but coming back home felt like a weight was lifted off his back, he doesn’t have to be THE Art Donaldson, he was just…Art.

“You look so tired baby boy, let me take your bags, go take a shower” his nana said as she shut the door behind her.

“Nana, seriously don’t worry—“

“Will you just let me take care of you while you’re here? You’ve gotta do all this yourself at school, but not here Artie” and well, there isn’t much arguing with nana Donaldson, it’s just how it’s been his whole life.

After his shower, Art walked in his room with a calm breath and loose muscles, how he needed that warm shower, as he walked over to his bag, which was placed next to the window he began to look for some clothes.

He wasn’t one to feel prying eyes on him but by reflex, Art lifted his head as he looked through the window, it was you.

You covered your mouth clearly giggling as he looked down at himself completely naked only covered by a towel wrapped around his waist, “fuck me” he muttered as he looked up once again but now face completely flushed and the tips of his ears burning red.

He waved awkwardly as he pulled the curtains closed feeling flustered, he wanted to get his mind off of her, so he said, how’s that going? Not great.

His nana looked up as he came downstairs with a puzzled expression, your name left his lips.

“What about her?” She asked as she left a plated grilled cheese in front of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was home for the break?” She laughed, why is she laughing?

“Sweetie, I thought it was obvious, she always come back home for breaks” she shook her head as she smiled playfully, “though, I think there’s something about her being here that bothers you”

“What— no, no, it doesn’t bother me, I just— would’ve expected something else, I don’t know”

“You sure?” She slid the paper across the counter with delicacy, “are you absolutely sure baby?”

“Nana! I told you to stop snooping, come on!” He said taking the paper as quickly as possible, could this day get any worse?

“One, I wasn’t snooping, it fell out of your backpack, and two, Artie, you know you can tell me anything, right?” He lowered his head ever so slightly as he grabbed the sandwich to then take a bite.

“I know.” He said once he swallowed, she leaned against the counter with curious eyes.

“She’s good, she’s smart, and really talented, did you hear she put out a song?” He lifted his brows in surprise, you really had picked music, over psychology, huh…

“Huh…well that’s great, I’m sure she’ll do great with all that” his nana scoffed as she muttered a small “art…” with a warning tone, “what? I mean it”

“You gotta give me more than that after that thing you wrote, Art, I taught you better than this.”

“I just—! I don’t know what to say, Nana, that’s the problem. Not to you, not to Patrick and most definitely not to her” he spilled, fiddling nervously with his hands, “I’d screw our friendship, one sided feelings aren’t worth risking years of trust.”

“Well you never know Artie, sometimes holding onto those feelings is painful, even if something is on the line, it isn’t worth it if you’re hurting” she was right, but Art would never say that out loud, this was all too much for him.

“It’s just…it’s not easy”

“Well my boy, no one said love was easy, and sometimes, just sometimes, the most complicated loves, are the most beautiful ones” he listened intently as he finished off the grilled cheese, she was right, maybe all he needed to do was tell her.

You had to know.

So there he was at 2:34 a.m throwing small pebbles at your window, just like he did years ago to then go the skate park at midnight and sit at the top of the ramps while you talked till sunrise.

“Stop throwing rocks Donaldson, you’ll wake the dog” you came out the door in pjs but wrapped in a jacket, he turned with a confused expression “I came running down when I felt the first two rocks” you laughed softly as you blushed slightly, God you missed this.

It’s like being kids all over again.

“So how’s tennis and all, Mr. Stanford?” You asked as you swung your hanging feet off the ramp.

“Y’know tennis is the same always, trust me, you don’t care” he laughed as he shook his head, “but Stanford is nice, just not the same without you and Patrick on my ass all the time”

“Ah, of course, because that’s the biggest change you’ve had since we were kids up to today” you rolled your eyes as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah…” he chuckled dryly as he looked away, could he be more obvious, goddamn.

“What?”

“No— no, it’s nothing” he insisted.

“Art I know you, it’s not nothing, what’s up?” You pushed as he looked up at the sky biting his lip while humming, “Art?”

“Hm?” He turned to look at you again, you lifted a brow silently asking once again, “ah…I— I love you” he blurted out unable to stop himself.

You opened your mouth but nothing came out.

“I have since the summer you turned fifteen, you just— you kinda started to seem different to me, and I— I fell in love with you.” He sighed, “and I know timing sucks and it’s gonna make things weird, but if I didn’t tell you, it would eat me alive, y’know it’s been so long—“ his rambling got cut off as your lips crashed onto his almost immediately.

His body tensed up completely, the feeling of your lips foreign to his, but so familiar at the same time, the reality was better than any dream he had ever managed to build up in his mind, your plump lips tasting faintly like cherry lip gloss, he was most likely dreaming, he thought, cause there is no way he had told you how he felt, and even less probabilities of him kissing you.

As you pulled away, he found himself instinctively following you with parted lips and eyes shut, he was so high with your mere presence, a soft giggle from you snapped him back to reality as his eyes opened up slowly, pupils blown, he looked as if he had just seen God.

“…Did you just—“

“Kiss you?” You ask slightly tilting your head with a giddy smile, “seems like it”

You shrugged as you snorted softly.

“Oh.” Oh was the only thing his brain could process for him to say still stunned.

“Okay— so you tell me you love me, but I kiss you and all you say is ‘oh’, I mean—“ you said as you licked your lips as you thought.

“I just— I didn’t think you’d— like…you…like…” he fumbled as he tried to pull a thought out of the back of his brain.

“Art, you’re telling me you didn’t expect me to kiss you, when I’ve literally had this…I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, and I’ve been as subtle as a marching band” you tell him as a blush creeps up your face while you chuckle nervously.

“You’re kidding, right?” You shake your head with a small grin, he scoffs as he covers his face with his hands, “am I just that dense?”

“Not dense, more like…oblivious” you laugh as he glares back playfully.

Then there’s beat of silence, that moment where suddenly everything had fallen into place, he’s been pining over you for years, and you’ve waited for the right moment for as long as you can remember, but then the question settles in, what now?

“Uhm…art…?” You turn to him with hesitation, he hums in response “what now? I mean, you’re going back to cali after break and I’m going back to New York…”

“Hm…I hadn’t really thought that far into it” he said softly turning to look at you with gentle eyes, “what now?” He asks back softly.

“I— I like you, Art, I’m in it for the long game.” You spoke honestly as you fiddled with your fingers.

“I’ll play the long game. You’re out there, I’m out there too, we’ll see each other in summer, thanksgiving, and Christmas…I mean it, I— don’t just like you.” He confessed as he chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously.

“I can do that” you said softly, smiling back at him, letting out a small breath, “long game…?”

Your hand cupped his cheek making him face you, he smiled as he nodded, looking down at your lips and back at your eyes “long game.” He muttered as he leaned in kissing you once again, holding you gently in a fear of breaking you.

That right there. That was it, you were the living proof of unrequited love for him.

[pinkiemachine]

Wait a minute, I didn't see gills on Kaldur's neck like where he usually has them. Where are his gills? Or does he not have any?

Also I saw the little detail of him having scales on his tattoos- ☆Noice detail☆

Oh yeah! The gills! I think I’m still in the process of deciding how I want to handle Atlantean physiology. Like, I’m deciding between keeping them like basically mermaids without the tails, or keeping them more or less human and Atlantis has more of an air-pocket sort of design—it’s been a whole thing in my head for the past year, and I haven’t had the time to really sit down and map everything out. Whenever I do that, I’m going to be reading Plato’s telling of Atlantis as well as all the years of comics for Aquaman, and every other scrap of ocean-related stuff, and finally decide how I want to design Atlantis and the people. Because where I left off (I think) was… the kings of Atlantis were direct descendants of Poseidon, and so there’s human Meta genes there, but then there are also a lot of ocean-dwelling creatures who also live in Atlantis, like Sirens and… others I can’t remember the name of currently. So perhaps there was intermingling, some half-n-half kids—idk—I thought about it, didn’t think about it very hard, then left it there for me to come back to and eventually tidy up.

I think the main thing for me is: what’s the coolest way to design Atlantis? Because if everyone can breathe underwater, then they’re basically mer-folk, and this essentially Atlantica, and then Aquaman is just The Little Mermaid. If we do it to where Atlantis is, say, a normal-ish city hidden under the ocean waters by some super cool, magical means, and not wet, then I feel like it harkens back to the Justice League cartoon of yore, and I always thought that approach was much cooler than the other one, personally. Also, I am one of those people to whom the physics of things matters far too much. Like, the comics would have you believe that because the Atlanteans live in the water at such great depths they have, like, greater density or something? then when they’re on land, they have super strength, and I’m just over here like… if they live on the bottom of the ocean, they’re gonna have blubber, or be very, very small, and they are going to look like a blobfish on land. Because that’s how water pressure and deep sea fish work. They are gelatinous and squishy so that when they are at such deep depths, the water pressure squishes them into one, neat, happy, healthy ball of fish. So… I don’t want to imagine Aquaman or anyone else like a blobfish…

…where was I going with this post….

I had a point…

I think the bottom line is, I don’t know yet if my Kaldur will have gills, but thanks to this post, I will probably be thinking about it all week, so you might have your answer soon, lol.

And the markings on his tattoos are actually spear heads, to symbolise strength and bravery on the battle field (inspired by Polynesian tattoos).

:)

[pbplssaveme]

ok so ik this is lowk bad but i had this idea and i needed to write it lol and this is inspired by the story Flight 2136 or something like that lol ill come back and tag the creator later bc they deserve credit yk lol and this prob is confusing and very fast paced so im sorry in advance if you read this im new to writing bc normally i keep it to myself lol but i hope one person enjoys this and i have another section planned out so i will continue if some1 wants me too :) i don’t have a title so if you have an idea feel free to tell me and give me advice

warnings: mentions of drug use and abuse, swearing, and mental health issues (pls tell me if i forgot something)

this is based in an alternative universe and reminder ! nothing is real ! this is all fake ! they are real people and this is not intended for them to see !

playlist:

dark red - steve lacy

fine line - harry styles

listen before i go - billie eilish

the greatest - billie eilish

xanny - billie eilish

high and dry - radiohead

freaks- surf cruse

race - alex g

piano man - billy joel ⭐️

symphonia IX - current joys

invisible string - taylor swift

7:09 AM January 19th, 2020

“Azzi, Azzi, Azzi! Wake up!” Jose practically sobbed as he violently shook Azzi awake.

“What do you want Jose- wait what wrong,” Azzi quickly woke up once she saw the hysterical state her brother was in.

“It’s Paige! Something’s wrong, look at the news!” Jose said as he shoved his phone into his sister’s face.

Azzi barely had registered anything else but once she saw the headline on the article in front of her all she could read was:

“PAIGE BUECKERS, NO. ONE RECRUIT OF CLASS OF 2020, DOES NOT COMMIT TO ANY SCHOOL AND GONE OFF SOCIAL MEDIA, WHAT HAPPENED?”

“What the fuck!” Azzi almost screeched when she read the headline. 

Azzi shoved Jose out of the way before running to her parents bedroom, Jose quickly trailing behind her.

“MOM, MOM, WAKE UP PLEASE! ITS PAIGE SOMETHINGS WRONG! MOM!” Azzi was frantic and uncontrollable at this point, opening up her last messages with Paige.

p💗:

practice was so bad today

coach sucks

i miss you

i feel terrible like the life is sucked out of me

i don’t want to go out there im scared 

a💗:

i’m sorry:( practice should be good tmrw tho right?

coach just knows you can do good i promise you’re great yk

it’s gonna b ok though, you can always call me and i can even fly out if you really want me to

you’ll be ok i promise, you’re great with the media

i miss you too

p💗: 

thanks

i just feel like im losing my spark 

like no one believes me

well i know you and my family do but like

i don’t believe in myself anymore and that’s the hardest part

i feel like basketball is gonna b the death of me tho 😂

i see you in three weeks though its ok dw abt me too much ;) lol

thanks 

a💗:

quit be annoying 

and you’re not bad at all 

you’re literally number one recruit in the u.s. 

i believe in you enough for both of us combined even though it’s hard for you to see

i can’t watch the livestream so text me when you’re done pls 

i’m always here for you <3

p💗:

thanks

i will 

ily az

a💗:

ilyt p 💗 sleep well tn pls you need it 

last read yesterday 6:58 PM

“Honey what’s wrong, tell me, I can’t do anything to help if you don’t tell me,” Katie Fudd said as she rubbed her temples from being up so early in the morning.

Azzi frantically texted Paige,

a💗:

16 missed calls from p💗- 12:17 AM 

PAIGE

PAIGE MADISON

PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS

PAIGE

WHATS WRONG

I SAW THE NEWS ARTICLE 

FROM LIKE 30 MINUTES AGO

ANSWER ME

WHATS WRONG

THIS ISNT LIKE YOU

WHAT HAPPENED 

PLS TELL ME

WERE YOU HACKED OR SOMETHING

YOU WOULD NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS DELETE YOUR SOCIALS

PLS TELL ME THIS IS A PRANK

YOURE FUNNY YK

PLEASE ANSWER ME 😭😭😭

*37 missed calls from a💗 7:16 AM

“Mom, it’s Paige, she- she…” Azzi lips trembled before she could finish her sentence.

“She’s gone offline and won’t answer Azzi,” Jose finished for Azzi, after calming down a bit.

“What- What do you mean, Jose?” Katie asked as she hugged her daughter and rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her.

“Look,” Jose said tears coming to his eyes again while he showed his mom his and Azzi’s phones. At this point, Tim and Jon were stirring awake from all the commotion in their house.

“Babe- wait Honey what’s wrong..” Tim said as he sat up looking at his family standing around in their bedroom.

“Holy shit…” Katie mumbled as she read the news headline and Azzi’s last conversation with Paige.

“It’s Paige, Tim. She, she-“ Katie sighed before she continued her brief rundown to Tim, “She deleted all her social media and won’t answer Azzi.”

“Holy fuck,” was all that Tim could muster up before he grabbed his phone, starting to text Bob, Paige’s dad.

“I’m blocked,” Azzi’s dad stated a matter of the fact, before turning the face his sobbing daughter. 

October 2nd, 2023, 11:57 AM

“So, Azzi, has anyone helped you keep your spirits extra high for this upcoming season as your third year here at UCONN?” the reporter stated before looking up at Azzi who stood there silently tapping her foot, anxiously waiting for the interview to be over.

“Um,” Azzi mumbled before looking at her feet. All that Azzi could think about ever for three years straight was Paige. Was Paige ok? Is she alive? Does she still play basketball? Does she hate me? Is her family ok? Is she in school? Did she miss me as much as I miss her?

The only thing that kept Azzi upright on most days and continuing playing basketball was the thought that Paige was going to someday be there beside her playing, living out their dream of playing together. All she ever thought about was Paige. Paige was what motivated her and kept her spirits up even though she hasn’t heard from her or her family in over three years.

“Uh, I would say my, um… best friend, Paige, you know, Paige Bueckers,” Azzi’s quietly said, silently praying now at this point the interview would be over.

“Oh! Have you been in contact with her? How is she doing?” the overwhelming, overly excited interviewer responded with while waiting for a response with her notebook out taking notes.

“Oh… uh, no,” Azzi said as tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, before stating “Um, I actually have to go, Coach is calling me.” Azzi gave a fake, lighthearted laugh while she heard her phone buzz violently in her pocket. Thankful for the excuse, she teared her phone out of her pocket and excused herself out of the lounge into Geno’s office. Once Azzi made it into Geno’s office, she immediately noticed the solemn, but tense expression on his face, filling the entire room with an energy that she knew she could not escape.

“Hey Coach” Azzi said before sitting down in one of the chairs across from Geno. 

“Well this is going to be an awkward conversation,” Geno stated before taking a deep breath. Azzi’s breath hitched, not knowing where this conversation could lead to.

“So, as I’ve been made aware of your situation with Paige Bueckers, you two were best friends until she um… disappeared you could say?” Geno said while slowly looking back up at Azzi. 

No. No. No. Why now. Any other time please. I do not want to have this conversation anymore even though it hasn’t even started. Azzi thought before looking at her coach and nodding her head, agreeing with what he was saying, too scared to say anything, afraid she would start crying.

“Well there has been some news that came out this morning, her family had contacted us explaining their situation and stated that Paige would be contacting us soon about transferring here, to UCONN, to complete her college degree and was interested in playing basketball with us this season if possible. We responded back saying that’s wonderful and we would love to meet her and get to know her before making further decisions. They also said that she wanted you, specifically, to know before anyone else on the team because she was nervous and wanted to know if you were okay with it. And yes, I got a brief rundown by them, they didn’t go into detail so I don’t know too much, about how she hasn’t texted you for the past three years or so and how you will most definitely be confused why she hasn’t said anything to you but I want you to know I can tell something happened and you need to be there for her and be welcoming when she just visits us soon,” Geno vocalized before standing up and giving Azzi a pat on the shoulder and sitting back down.

All that went through Azzi’s mind during that conversation was holy fuck, she’s gonna be here after three years would she even still want to talk to me. Azzi’s eyes immediately started welling up before she started spewing questions, “Do you know why she didn’t go to college in person? Is she ok? Is her family fine? What else do you know?!” Azzi sobbed as she wiped her face with her practice jersey.

“Her family stated that she could not attend college in person and had to get rid of her socials due to the fact that they had some issues at home and needed to focus on their family first. Trust me, I want to know the real story too and I am concerned for the poor girl because I know this is a big step for her. But they did tell me she has been doing online college for the past three years, but they believed she was ready to come back to school in person and wanted her to be able to play basketball because they know she couldn’t just go back to school and do nothing. I want her to play here because she could be great. Her playing here for just one or two years could really be big for us and her. You’ve got no reason to be afraid kiddo, maybe just the fact that she maybe an emotional wreck when she’s here,” Geno said chuckling at his last statement.

“Uh, ok. Thank you for letting me know Coach,” Azzi mumbled before standing up and walking out of the office. She quickly shot Nika a text, stating that she needed a ride back to the dorms because she couldn’t drive, before receiving a quick thumbs up and an ‘omw’ from Nika. Azzi was confused. How was she doing? Is she going to play with me again after the past three years? Is she going to want to play together again? She stood there outside of the practice facility in the chilly breeze before Nika pulled up.

“Girl, where’s your jacket? Oh wait, what’s wrong Honey?” Nika said as she quickly jumped out her car in a pair of sweats, opening the passenger door and putting Azzi’s gym bag in the back seat.

“Az, what happened?” Nika said softly as she wiped Azzi’s tears as she laid there looking out the window.

“She’s gonna be here Nik, she- she’s gonna want to see me after three years. Omg-“ Azzi hiccuped before completely breaking down.

“Oh baby, it’s gonna be ok,” Nika reassured her before pulling out to drive back to the dorms. 

“What if she never wants to see me again Nika, like, does she still consider me her best friend?” Azzi asked as she slowly, slowed her breathing down. 

“I think she would, wait, how’d you find out Paige is coming here, wait, she’s like coming back almost?” Nika asked incredulously once she processed sudden realization as she took a right turn.

“Coach told me, the rest of the team doesn’t know or the media, don’t tell them before Coach does please,”  Azzi said before laying down in the seat, closing her eyes, with tears still running down her cheeks.

“Don’t worry Az,” Nika reassured her as they pulled up to the dorms.

October 10th, 2023 1:23 PM

“Okay everybody, listen up” Geno barked as the group of girls in front of him shuffled into position.

“Paige is going to be here at 2. I expect nothing but kindness and welcoming introductions, no snarky comments or remarks, and especially no personal questions about those three years she was at home, got it?” Geno stated before staring at the group before him.

There were a few ‘Yes Coach’ and ‘Yes Sir’s before Geno spoke again.

“While we have time before she arrives, make sure the facility and your rooms are neat and tidy,” there was a brief pause before he spoke again, “I have a complete in depth map of the facility in case you want it, now before I let y’all run wild, I need Nika, Aaliyah, and Azzi to stay behind.”

Azzi’s breath hitched as she heard her name being called out by Geno but she stood there as she watched all the other girls leave, some heading towards the locker room, others going back to the dorms. The three girls stood there with as much confidence they could muster up, with all of their nail-biting nerves begging them to leave. 

“You guys will tour her around, show her everything and introduce her to all of the girls, got it?” Geno asked, waiting for a response.

“Yes Coach,” all three girls said before getting shooed off by Geno.

“I’m so royally fucked,” Azzi mumbled once they were out of earshot from their coach.

October 10th, 2023 11:45 AM

Paige stood their pacing her room. Her arms hurt and she could barely take a full breath. She woke up early that morning, trying to warn off any nerves she had before she had to face them, and her. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek, but messy bun, with little face framing pieces and light makeup. She wore long black cargo pants, a dark blue hoodie she had since her and Azzi were friends, and a small silver chain that had a small silver cross dangling off of it with some silver rings on her fingers that she liked or fidget with. She was put together on the outside for the most part. But on the inside, she was an emotional wreck. Her stomach dropped at the sudden ring from the room phone. Hoping it was not her parents, she breathlessly answered the phone, “Hello,” was all that she could put together before she hiccuped, hoping the other person on the line couldn’t hear the shakiness in her voice.

“Is this Paige Bueckers?” a small voice on the other line asked.

“Uh, yes- wait who is this?” Paige asked before she would answer anymore questions.

“Paigey! It’s Drew! Mom doesn’t know that I am calling, I just wanted to let you know that I love you and I hope you have a good day today,” there was a brief pause before he spoke again, “tell Azzi I said hi!”

Paige couldn’t believe it, she hadn’t heard from Drew since she got seperated from them three years ago. Her heart shattered when she heard Drew again,

“Oh, uh, I gotta go, Mom is coming. I love you Paigey.” 

Paige dropped the phone. 

“What the fuck,” she gasped as she scrambled to grab her phone and keys.

As Paige rushed out of her room, a whirlwind of emotions coursed through her veins. Drew’s voice echoed in her mind, reminding her of a time when family bonds felt unbreakable, a stark contrast to the reality she had faced over the past three years. She had missed so much due to herself, and the weight of that missed connection felt heavier than ever as she prepared to face a world that felt foreign to her now. Her hatred for her parents coursed through her veins as she pounded her way down the flights of stairs. 

So many emotions crashed over her like waves—relief that she was alive and breathing, guilt for leaving Drew, confusion about everything she had lost and everything she was about to face. It had taken her three years of fighting for her freedom, slowly chipping away at the barriers her parents had built around her since that terrible night in January 2020. After her overdose, everything changed dramatically. Her mother, terrified of losing her again, had imposed a strict regimen of control that included a sudden and complete cutoff from her former life. Friends became distant memories, her social media accounts vanished overnight, and the family she had once been inseparable from turned into strangers. The isolation felt suffocating, but Paige had poured all her energy into basketball—her one true escape and the one thing her parents let her do during that time. Waiting back in her hotel room were the hundreds of letters she wrote for Azzi, all of Azzi’s stuff she left back in Paige’s room years ago, and the letter from her mom she tore up and threw out before she read it. After almost tripping down the last three stairs, she got to her car and immediately started pulling out, GPS already pulled out to UCONN. She had watched every single one of Azzi’s games the past three years in the darkness of her own bedroom only feeling guilt of not being there right next beside her. All that she knew in this moment was that she was going to see Azzi again, reopening the already unhealed wound that cut deep through her heart and body.

October 10, 2023 2:03 PM

“Oh God,” Azzi said as she carefully watched Paige walk up to the gym through the doors.

“Hey, Azzi, you’re good girl. She is probably just as nervous as you,” Aaliyah reassured Azzi while giving her a small pat on the back.

“Yeah, as much as I have my own doubts, I know she’ll do just fine here,” Nika stated while also carefully staring out the glass double-doors.

Azzi’s heart dropped when she caught another glimpse of Paige. Her blonde her was just as she remembered, long, golden, and bright. Hey eyes matched the deep blue of her hoodie she wore that perfectly hung off of her tall but broad frame. She still walked with confidence although Azzi could see the slight hesitation she had in every step. Her posture was slightly lowered, Azzi assumed because of the cold breeze.

"She looks nervous," Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible. Nika and Aaliyah glanced at her, understanding the sentiment that lingered in the air as they sensed Azzi's growing unease.

"Remember what Coach said," Nika reminded her softly. "Just be welcoming. She needs to know that you’re still here for her.”

Once Paige made the pain staking walk to the entrance she opened the door anticipating the worse. She didn’t move far once she entered since she was instructed to not enter further without any of the coaches or teams’ guidance. But when she looked up to the second set of doors she saw her. She stood there, like always, with a quiet confidence, eyes big but comforting, and an oh so familiar aura around her Paige could not get enough of once she was in Azzi’s presence. They both immediately froze at the sight of each other, not knowing what to do. Paige was fortunate enough for Azzi to make the first move. She took a small step forward, with Nika and Aaliyah looming behind her.

“Hi,” Azzi breathed.

“Az,” Paige whispered, almost inaudible.

Before either of them could process their actions fully, they grasped onto each other like they were their lifelines.

“I’m sorry, like so sorry, I’m sor-“

“Don’t be sorry P, you’re here and that’s all that matters,” Azzi said as she buried her face into Paige’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to leave you, I promise, I-“ Paige sobbed as she dug her face into Azzi’s neck, trying to engrave every detail about Azzi into her brain all over again.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” Paige pleaded into Azzi’s ear.

“I could never be mad at you P.”

[deoidesign]

I met the me who made different choices

[freebooter4ever]

Sigh. I Hated the guy for his hockey but he's Like That too huh? -_-

also before people start trying to equate sid with what the rat did can i just say that i watched both the 2016 visit and the 2017 visit and sid's behavior was completely different - right up front in 2016, lots of photos, big smiles. Vs 2017 it was very obviously just a formality and sid said nothing. (also also the rat didnt say anything about who he voted for he just parroted the usual southern patriotic line? I dont see why people are jumping to conclusions that he is a diehard conservative from this? I dont think this totally negates the efforts i have seen from the rat in promoting LGBQT rights in a very very red state like florida. Not to defend a guy whose hockey i hate or anything. I just dont think fans should start getting angry at other fans who are willing to overlook this comment, or forget that the rat has said he believes everyone belongs in a hockey locker room during an era in the league where this is not the most popular stance)

(but also blacklisting the rat's name on tumblr works VERY well i should know, lol. Him and the candy cane chicago guy are my two blacklisted names. Its like they dont even exist anymore :P)

(but also i know how hard it hurts to realize that someone you admire from a distance might actually treat you like shit in real life just because of what 'other' group you belong to, so my sympathies to fans going through it right now)

[rainbowsunshinegeesus]

i just went to some church thing and i found someone who said they remember me from high school 😦 which means they probably remember me walking round the school looking like this

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

T-T still too fuckin hot

I hate summer

[lokissweater]

“i love you and i love you.” ᡣ𐭩

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu has been hopelessly in love with you since he was fifteen. you, his muse and his reason to live as you took care of him growing up more than anyone else in his life. in fear of breaking your best friend pact and losing you entirely, yuta swallows his feelings for the sake of keeping you in his life, but he can only take so much.

warnings: college au, friends to best friends to lovers trope, lowkey ooc yuta oops, mentions of underage drinking, hopelessly devoted and lovesick yuta for reader, cursing!!! both reader and yuta cuss lol, lots and lots of fluff, ANGST, afab!reader, use of y/n, pet names, no smut in this one! slight sexual themes, reader is older than yuta by two years.

word count: 8.7k

authors note: YAAALLL i actually poured my heart and soul out into this one so i really hope it reaches your heart and soul as well! it is so so cute and i had so much fun writing it. this is definitely not the end of this au! i plan to write more short stories that take place after this one :) mwah.

————————————————————————

yuta was thirteen years old when he first saw you.

you were a casual friend of his older brother who had invited his entire group of friends over for a thanksgiving feast reunion amongst yourselves. yuta stayed locked in his room for the most part, from time to time lazily making his way down the halls and through the kitchen where you all sat to get a glass of water for himself, silently savoring at the food on the table.

eventually you had picked up on his lame attempts of coming into the kitchen for random excuses, concluding that he just wanted to gawk at the food and maybe score a bite or two of the pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream, sitting pretty and proud in the middle of the table.

but after various unsuccessful attempts and various defeated stomps down the hall and back to his room after every shoo from his brother, he knew he wasn’t going to get even a lick. at the end of the night when the group settled down and many began to take their leave, yuta made his way back down one more time in search of any lucky scraps left behind.

but what he found instead was you, standing in the kitchen with a white porcelain plate in your hands, a slice of pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream sitting pretty in the middle.

“for you,” you had said calmly, plate outstretched, beckoning him to take it. “i saw you come down a few times looking at it, and i think whoever brought it is taking the rest of it back home, so here.”

yuta had never spoken to a girl before, much less a fifteen year old one with the sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life on her face, but he timidly and awkwardly took the smooth plate from your offering hands, and muttered a squeaky thank you before stumbling down the hall and slamming his bedroom door shut.

from then on, yuta looked forward to the next time his brother would have his friends over, nagging at him constantly with questions of when, and even going as far as to straight up planning the hangouts himself (the location of all of them being at their house of course), but his brother would only shove him out of his room and lock the door shut.

luckily for yuta his wish was granted, and his curious eyes saw you around a lot more often than not, and you gradually became a close friend of yuta’s brother instead of just casual one. every time you came over to his house, you always greeted him with the biggest smile on your face before going into his brother’s room with the rest of the group. and over time, your greetings to yuta went from sweet smiles, to pats on the head, to ruffling up his hair occasionally, and to his personal favorite, the side hug.

you always were around in yuta’s growing life and always made sure he had gotten something to eat that day, or if he had a ride to soccer practice, or if his phone had enough battery to last him through his tutoring sessions, or even if he had someone going to watch his soccer games in the mornings (which was never).

yuta was fifteen when he realized he liked you.

“so no one is going?” you asked sharply, “again?”

yuta shrugged. “its at eight o’ clock in the morning. i don’t expect anyone to, not even you-“

“well i’m going,” you said simply, putting the rest of your textbooks away in your locker and slamming it shut. “geez not even your brother goes to your games? i’m gonna yell at him later.”

“it’s fine.” yuta shook his head and gave you a small smile, his insides twisting and contorting with an overwhelming boy crush for you. “a lot of my teammates parents don’t go either, usually only to the first two of the season.”

but not you. you went every single time, even going as far as dragging his brother with you so he could have family there to watch him play. yuta always made sure to turn and raise a hand to you from across the field, waving it side to side before getting back in the game, his heart thumping wildly in his chest with an insane sense of adrenaline to do good on the field and show off— because you were watching.

yuta was still fifteen when he realized you liked his brother.

firstly, he felt utterly stupid for not picking up on it before. yuta was always too busy staring at you and memorizing every inch and detail of your face to realize that you were looking at his brother the same way yuta looked at you. he was too busy running around in soccer fields and eating the ham sandwiches you always made for him after practices to realize how red your face would get when you sat next to his brother during his games, or when you gave him sandwiches. yuta was too busy drooling over you in his mind that sometimes you wouldn’t even notice him waving at you from across the field like he always did, your eyes trained on his brother instead, that sweet smile he was all too familiar with shining for someone else.

it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair at all. yuta felt like his brother always got everything and he always ended up with scraps. yuta never got a friend group like his, or a stellar reputation in a sport like he did, or people at his beck and call everywhere he went, or nominations for pointless shit like homecoming king.

but yuta didn’t give a flying fuck about any of that. he didn’t want any of that. he wanted you. just you.

but he couldn’t have you.

yuta was sixteen when he realized he was in love with you.

he had been for a while actually, and he knew it, but the thought alone of you liking his stupid brother only fueled the fire of denial to save himself from getting hurt more than he already was.

but it was absolutely pouring rain that day, his tutoring session having been cancelled last minute due to the weather, and because of this he had no ride home and no umbrella to even attempt at walking home, not that he could anyways seeing as it would take him thirty minutes to do so. yuta absolutely could not take that chance. he had his laptop in his backpack with all of his school work, and worst of all, his final project that he had been working on since the beginning of the school year, a precious green portfolio filled with notes worth more than gold to him.

yuta grumbled as he scuffed his feet against the concrete at the front of his school under a rooftop, lips pressed into a thin line in annoyance. his parents were at work, there was no way they could just drop everything and go to him (not that they would anyways), and his brother was too busy hanging out with you doing god knows what at god knows where— so even calling you was out of the picture.

at the mere thought of you hanging out with his brother, he sighed softly, sadly, and slumped down on a blue bench with his cold hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, eyes trained to the ground.

heavy pit pats of rain smacked against the ground as he sat there in thought, the sounds of cars zooming down the wet streets as the only source of life around besides himself, seeing as it was already late in the day and everybody else had gone home. without him even noticing, the front doors beside him creaked open as he sat there grumbling.

“yuta?”

his head snapped up upon hearing your pretty voice call out to him, his eyes wide as he saw you standing there with an umbrella.

“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, standing up. yuta looked at you then and noticed your eyes were red and tired, and a shock of worry shot up his spine.

“i was-”

“are you okay?” he asked quickly. “your eyes are red.”

“oh really?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your palm, waving him off. “it’s nothing, i didn’t even notice.”

he pursed his lips, concern written all over his face as he took in your defeated expression, but before he could press any further, you spoke again.

“why aren’t you in tutoring?”

“oh they cancelled last minute,” he stuffed his hands further into his jacket and looked to the side. “i don’t have a ride home now because of it, and i can’t even walk home because it’s raining hard as fuck and i have my laptop in my backpack.”

you hummed in understanding, and even though it looked like the worst possible thing ever just happened to you, you gave him that same sweet smile he craved every time he saw you. “let’s walk to your house together. i have an umbrella we can try and fit under.”

he looked at you incredulously. “no no! it’s okay! you live down the street i don’t want to make you walk thirty minutes in the rain with me and thirty back-”

“it’s okay!” you laughed. “i would never leave you here by yourself yu, you know that.”

oh how he loved when you called him that.

his shoulders slowly relaxed, a wobbly cute smile spreading across his face, his cheeks a fuzzy pink. “okay.”

you walked together in a comfortable silence, your little umbrella just barely covering the both of you and yuta’s cheeks were still an intense pinky shade due to the close proximity, his steamy breath basically fanning the side of your ear as he huddled close to you.

after a few minutes spent walking on the sidewalk, yuta spoke up again.

“why are your eyes red?”

you immediately froze, but relaxed quickly.

“just tired s’all,” you responded weakly, but the little wobbling of your bottom lip told him otherwise.

yuta slowly lifted his hand and reached out, placing it softly on top of yours and clenching over the stem of the umbrella. the action caused you both to stop walking, your curious eyes snapping to his.

his palm felt like it was on absolute fire at the feeling of your soft hand under his, yuta’s breath trembling as he breathed out.

he swallowed. “can you please tell me why.”

your eyes flooded with tears then, and you shut them tightly as you dropped your forehead solemnly to rest against his shoulder, your frame shaking with quiet sobs escaping your lips.

yuta’s eyes softened and he quickly took the umbrella from you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug. his heart thumped so hard against his chest that he could hear it ringing through his ears.

he patted the back of your head gently. “what happened? what’s going on?”

you shook your head against his chest.

“y/n..” he sighed worriedly, running a soothing hand over your shaking back now.

“i have a crush on your brother,” you sobbed.

he knew. god he knew. but hearing you say it out loud broke his heart ten times more than it did when he found out on his own.

yuta slightly pulled back, bending his knees a little to look at you at eye level, his hand on your shoulder.

“i know.”

your eyebrows furrowed, more silent tears spilling from your eyes. “you know?”

yuta nodded, smiling sadly at you as he wiped your tears with his thumb, your eyes closing as he did so. “i spend almost every second of my life with you, of course i know. i noticed.”

you sniffed.

“weren’t you just with him now?” he asked.

your eyes shut tightly again, eyebrows contorted in pain as you nodded. “i confessed to him. i wanted to tell him before we graduated next month.”

you lifted your hands and covered your face, sobbing into them. “i’ve loved him since middle school.”

loved?

yuta’s shoulders slumped as he stared straight ahead, feeling like he wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and stay there.

“he-“ you hiccuped. “he rejected me.”

his head snapped down immediately, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and anger. “huh? he rejected you?”

you nodded, dropping your hands from your eyes and burying your head in his chest.

“why? what did he say?”

“he said he didn’t feel the same way—” you stopped for a moment to even out your breaths. “and that he was sorry.”

yuta scoffed, shaking his head. “what a big fucking loser.”

you snorted at that, and he looked down at you fondly, relieved you laughed.

“he… he thanked me for everything that i’ve done for your family though, especially you.”

he stayed silent.

“he said he was thankful that i was like another sibling for you, and that i took care of you.”

another sibling?

yuta didn’t say anything, that phrase like a slash through his heart while he still thought about how much of a fucking idiot he was to reject you. you, out of anyone deserved to get everything you wanted. you were selfless, incredibly sweet, the most gorgeous human being to ever walk this earth, and you had done so much for everyone that you neglected your own needs all of the time.

how could he not love you back? how could his brother not see the angel in his life that loved him, that sentiment alone an absolute privilege to have? something he would kill for?

yuta knew he shouldn’t make this about himself. he knew you were absolutely hurting and heartbroken, but he just had to know. it was eating him alive inside and out and over and over again as he kept thinking about it.

“is that how you see me?”

“hu-huh?” you hiccuped, picking your head up from his chest to look at him.

“as another sibling. is that how you see me?”

you blinked up at him, your eyes trailing over his furrowed eyebrows and worried gaze, and you hesitated for a moment, not knowing exactly why.

but you nodded, slowly. “you’re my best friend, yu. you’re not just anyone to me i care a lot about you. more than most people in my life.”

for a moment, yuta looked at you blankly, his mind unable to properly register your words. he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry, call up his brother and yell at him, kiss you, or run away.

a part of him knew that too, that you only saw him as a sibling. but like everything else in his life, he buried it down and chose to pretend like it didn’t exist for the sake of his heart.

but regardless of you not returning his feelings, he would rather be something to you than nothing at all. he would rather make some type of difference in your life and have a special spot, than be an absolute nobody to you.

so he smiled. he smiled with soft sad eyes and nodded, pulling you back in and resting his cheek against the top of your head. “you’re my best friend too.”

yuta didn’t see you around much at his house after that, which he understood.

but you still texted yuta everyday and hung out with him sometimes at school, and you still went to his games and practices and made him ham sandwiches after, and you still gave him that sweet smile he loved so so much.

but he never missed how sad you got around his brother, even at the mere mention of him. he never missed how your eyes stayed glued to the ground or had a far off look to them, your arms wrapped around yourself with a safe distance between you both.

when you graduated high school, yuta was a brat the entire ceremony. he was pissed. so pissed that you were two years older than him and that he wasn’t going to see your pretty self around school anymore, which was pretty much the only reason he tolerated it in the first place.

but when your graduating class threw their caps up into the air and his family went down to congratulate his brother, yuta made a beeline for you instead.

and behind that scowl on his face that he had the entire day, his eyes were glossy.

yuta never cried.

when you noticed, your shoulders instantly dropped and you ran to his open arms, practically throwing yourself on him. “yuuu! don’t cry for me!”

“who said i’m crying?” yuta grumbled into your shoulder.

you pulled back and smiled at him, “i’m gonna miss you the most.”

yuta smiled, but then faltered, and a sliver of fear shot up his spine. was this the last time he was going to see you? was this the start of you both slowly distancing, and then ultimately falling apart? were you still going to call him and text him everyday?

as if you could sense his fear, you quickly shook your head. “you’re literally stuck with me for life. you will never find another best friend to replace me, you got it?”

you waved your little index finger at him sternly, and yuta laughed. “i got it.”

yuta was nineteen when he almost kissed you.

after you graduated high school, luckily you went to a college that was only about a thirty minute drive from his place. you were still in yuta’s life, if not way more than it was before, which he thanked his lucky stars for. you went from being a best friend of his brothers, to being only his best friend, as you and his brother didn’t really talk anymore after high school.

and to that, yuta was happy.

and when he graduated high school, you of course were there, crying and pinching his cheeks and hugging him so tight his back cracked a little bit.

he didn’t go to the same college you did (although he definitely tried but didn’t get in) and went to one that was about forty five minutes away from home, one he commuted to everyday like you did for yours.

you both got so much closer that you obliviously acted like a couple, when you weren’t. yuta would pick you up from class and drive you to lunch, pay for all of your meals and anything you practically wanted despite you fighting him every time on it. he would kiss your forehead and your cheek and throw his arm around your shoulder when you walked, he would call you baby and compliment you every single day, and he would sleep over at your house almost all of the time, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your torso.

he knew best friends weren’t really supposed to act like this, but did you? you both had grown so accustomed to it that it wasn’t a weird thing for you both, but the constant questions from your mutual friends or even each others parents was a dead giveaway that it in fact, was not how best friends were supposed to act.

but neither of you seemed to care.

“stop moving yu!” you whispered harshly as you applied an aloe vera mud mask to his face. yuta snickered, dodging your fingers every time they came close to applying the mask, with the only reason he was doing it being because it made you laugh.

you were both sat on your fluffy pink rug in the middle of your room in your pajamas, surrounded by all of your skincare essentials and even the fancy products you only pulled out on special occasions. it was one in the morning at this point and you both were still up, trying to keep your laughter to a minimum in attempts at not waking up your parents downstairs.

“baby this stuff smells kind of funky,” he commented as you applied some to his cheek.

“the funkier the better,” you responded, focused. “kind of smells like you.”

he pinched your side and you giggled, flinching away. “i’m kidding! i’m almost done, don’t move.”

yuta listened and stayed still, watching your concentrated pretty face that was practically inches away from his as you applied the mask to the rest of his face, his poor heart almost giving out.

once you were done, you smiled triumphantly and wiped your fingers with a warm damp towel. “all done!”

yuta smiled fondly at you and kissed your cheek. “thanks. is this what you put on every night?”

you shook your head, “not every night, only when i want my skin to look extra good for special occasions.”

“which is..?”

“it’s usually when you invite me over to your family events or when we eat dinner at that one really nice place by your school.”

yuta stopped at that and he felt his heart clench at your words. he didn’t know why and he usually didn’t let it, but his mind was making him believe that maybe…

no.

he relaxed again, humming in acknowledgement. you picked up a circular pink little tub compartment thing and unscrewed the cap, dipping your ring finger in the shimmery product.

“what’s that?” he asked softly, nodding his head to it.

“it’s my lip scrub!” you responded enthusiastically, lifting your ring finger and scooting closer to him. his eyes looked straight at you as you slid your finger over his lips. “it has kind of like a rough texture, it’s supposed to exfoliate your lips and make them really soft.”

his cheeks slowly turned pink, his eyes trailing down to your lips as you sat back, finished.

“here— put some on me now so you can feel what i’m talking about,” you handed him the little tub and he dipped his index finger in, swallowing the lump in his throat.

he timidly lifted his hand and pressed his finger to your waiting perfect lips, softly and gently running the product on your bottom lip before going to the top, his eyes mesmerized and nearly drooling.

yuta was practically tracing you, wanting to burn forever the shape of your mouth into his brain to remember for the rest of his life, wanting nothing more than to press his lips on yours.

but he inhaled sharply and quickly dropped his hand. “i’m finished.”

you pressed your lips together and spread the product around, “did you feel it?”

he shakily nodded, wiping his finger on the warm damp towel before handing it over for you to do the same.

you held up a corner of the towel to his lips and gently wiped the scrub away, “and now they’re soft.”

you passed the towel back over to him, and you sat back, eagerly waiting for him to do the same.

yuta swallowed again and mimicked you, except he was much slower, much more gentle over your plush lips as he subconsciously leaned closer to you that by the time he was done, his nose almost bumped with yours.

with eyes half lidded, he stared at your lips in a daze, licking his bottom lip slightly as you looked at him with wide eyes. he wanted to, so badly, to just grab your face and press your lips together, to pour the love he’s had for you for the past four years out and cherish you with everything that he has.

“yu?” you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath fanning against his lips.

his eyes immediately snapped to yours and he flinched back like a deer in headlights. “so— so when do i take this off?” he pointed to his face. “the mud mask.. when does it come off?”

you looked at him curiously, your eyebrows slightly pinched together as you tried to make sense of what was happening, if anything even really happened.

“almost..” you responded, unfocused. “in about five minutes.”

yuta quickly nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line, his hands clenched so hard into tight fists that his knuckles turned white.

he couldn’t look you in the eye. what the fuck was he doing? he was going to scare you away if he kept doing things like this, if he kept almost slipping up and doing something that could jeopardize your friendship with him.

your trust.

you nudged his shoulder with your finger, and he finally looked at you.

“is the face mask bothering you that much?” you said with a silly smile, and yuta physically deflated, affection pumping through his system.

“no baby,” he shook his head. “i like it! i think i should keep it on for the rest of the night and go to class with it tomorrow morning.”

you snorted and shook your head, “don’t be mean.”

he raised his hands up frantically, “i’m not! you think everybody has the privilege of getting a free facial by their pretty best friend?” he held up his index finger and wiggled it side to side. “i don’t think so.”

you giggled, so much, and grabbed the warm damp towel again, scooting closer to him by your knees. you began wiping away the mask on his face, being careful of not going too rough in fear of accidentally irritating and hurting him. yuta held you by the hips, assisting in keeping your balance and rubbing little circles into your stomach with his thumbs.

your cheeks went a little pink after a bit.

as the rest of the night went on, and when you both finally settled into bed facing each other— his hand on the side of your hip, you softly traced the rather dark bags under his eyes and frowned.

“you need to get more sleep, yu. i think you’ve had these bags since you were fifteen.”

“it’s because i always grind so i can buy you a big white house with a wiener dog and a picket fence.”

you laughed a little too loud and slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his as your shoulders shook. when you settled down, you removed your hand and smiled sweetly.

“only if the house comes with you.”

yuta’s breath hitched, and his eyes searched yours desperately, for any indication that maybe, just maybe, you…

no.

“what… you want me as a roommate?”

you playfully rolled your eyes and gently shoved his shoulder.

yuta was twenty years old when he confessed to you.

it was also the first big fight you guys ever had in your entire years of knowing each other.

your relationship stayed the same, two peas in a little pod through college that never seemed to go to one place without the other, so much so that when you did, people would often ask where the other half was. he loved it. he loved you so much, and he found it harder and harder and more heart breaking for him as the years went by watching you not be his in any way shape or form.

every time he visited your campus or went with you to your college parties, he noticed the lurking eyes it seemed like every guy had on you everywhere you went, and it agitated yuta more than anything else. he was still a stubborn brat, and instead of doing something about it and maybe telling you how he feels, he just endures the pain and scowls at their glances, leading you through crowds by the hand or by the small of your back.

he never really indulged in the traditional college experience like you did, and never ever talked to any other girl besides you. he never wanted to or had any interest in doing so, regardless of you returning his feelings or not. you also never really talked to any other guy besides yuta or made any mention of your dating life, people mostly assuming you both were.

yuta weaved through the crowd, trying to spot a place for the both of you to sit while you went to get drinks from the kitchen. upon finally breaking free from the pile of dancing sweaty bodies, he recognized one of your girl friends and a couple of others sitting on a long lounge sofa, her eyes perking up.

“y/n’s boyfriend! you came?”

he stopped a bit, then smiled wide.

“yeah! she’s in the kitchen now by the way, she’ll be over here in a second.”

and when you did come over, already a bit tipsy from the line of shots you got pulled into while getting drinks, you walked over to where yuta sat while greeting your friends, handing him a red solo cup. and instead of sitting in the spot yuta had saved for you right beside him, you settled neatly on his lap.

his eyes nearly bulged out of their eye sockets as you swung an arm around his shoulders for support and made yourself comfortable. you had never done something like this, and he swallowed the huge lump in his throat as trembling hands settled around your waist and over your lap. his arm tingled with the feeling of your thighs underneath, afraid to put his hands anywhere near them in fear of making you uncomfortable or accidentally grabbing your face and making out with you.

but the chance of that happening wasn’t anywhere near impossible, as he was already tipsy by his drink and his hand was already gently caressing over the skin of your soft plush thighs.

best friends don’t do things like this.

and he did not give a single fuck.

your boobs were practically shoved up in his face, his pinky cheeks absolutely blazing as his eyes darted to every corner of the house and anywhere else that wasn’t your tits, his lips itching to feel, to taste.

the night progressed and the both of you got increasingly more and more drunk, clinging on to each other on the couch or stumbling through the house, laughing when one of you would trip and almost face plant on the hardwood floors, leaning on to each other for support.

“your boyfriend almost knocked over the tub of tropical mix in the kitchen!” your girl friend yelled over the loud booming music, laughing.

yuta expected you to correct her, but you didn’t, and only laughed along with her.

“no it wasn’t him! it was me,” you giggled drunkenly, your arms around his neck as his were tight around your waist, your group standing off to the side of the dance floor. “he had to grab me and pull me from it!”

and that’s how it often was, just you and him. you taking care of him and him taking care of you in every way possible, trying to pay you back for all of the years you spent being there for him when he was younger and way more, simply because he wanted to.

and on a night where yuta was studying for finals in his room, his brother that was visiting from college came in and sat down on the edge of his bed.

“you studying?” he asked.

yuta nodded, not bothering to take his eyes away from his notebook, still scribbling down his notes. he never really had the best relationship with his brother, much less after what had happened with you getting rejected by him.

his brother took a deep breath through his nose and nodded. “i um… are you still friends with y/n?”

that caught his attention, and yuta’s eyes lifted from his notes to look at him. “yes? i’m with her like, most of the time. if you haven’t noticed.”

“no i have,” his brother murmured. “how is she?”

yuta took a second to respond. “she’s good.”

“that’s good that’s good. does she um- does she still have the same number?”

yuta put down his pencil and leaned back against his desk chair. “why?”

“i wanted to just catch up with her is all,” he shrugged. “i saw her when you brought her here for mom’s birthday and i hadn’t seen her since graduation.”

“catch up with her?” yuta mumbled. “since when do you give a shit about y/n?”

his brother scoffed. “i always have, yuta.”

“didn’t seem like it when you rejected her and started dating one of her close friends like the next day.”

his brother didn’t say anything, and yuta rolled his eyes at the lack of response, picking his pencil back up to continue his work.

“i still have her on social media and see what she’s up to… she posts you a lot. are you guys like— a thing?”

yuta bit the inside of his cheek. “no.”

his brother visibly relaxed for whatever reason and nodded. “i just want to talk to her again, is all. maybe buy her dinner—”

yuta pushed his textbook away, dropped his pencil again and spun around, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “fuck no.”

his brother scoffed. “i’m not asking for permission—”

“fuck no.”

“yuta i’m your brother i literally took you to school everyday and took care of you—”

“y/n did that.” yuta cut him off. “y/n gave me rides to school when i didn’t have my license and bought me food when i didn’t have a job. she also came to every single one of my games regardless of the weather and helped me with my homework when i was too stupid to figure it out on my own, everything you should’ve done.”

“that’s not true—”

“yes it is.” yuta crossed his arms in annoyance. “she didn’t have to do any of that. she never had to take care of me the way that she did but she did it anyways. she took on your role because you were too busy being a dingus doing god knows what and she knew that. y/n has done more for me than you’ve ever done in your entire twenty two years of living.”

his brother sat there in silence, yuta’s heavy angry breathing being the only thing heard in the room.

“okay well—” his brother stood from his bed and walked over to the door. “i’m just going to text her—”

“why the fuck are you gonna meddle into her life now? what… are you bored? are you not satisfied with whatever fucking girl you find up there at school?” yuta threw his arms up in irritation, his blood beginning to boil. “you treated her like shit. like absolute dog shit when you ignored her and avoided her for months after she confessed to you. do you understand how disrespectful that is?”

“whatever man it was high school—”

“and what, that gives you a pass to treat her like that? when that happened i was sixteen picking up the pieces you shit all over at your grown age—”

“i’m leaving.”

and with that, his brother walked out and slammed the door shut, and yuta was left absolutely red. red with anger he had never felt before in his life as he grabbed his notebook and chucked it across the room. he hated how casual he spoke of you, like you were just another girl he was going to try and get to know and fuck— to then leave without another word like his brother’s been doing his whole fucking life to girls. but not to you, it couldn’t happen to you.

and it was like yuta was going through the five stages of grief because then he was afraid. what if you let his brother back into your life? what if you fell for him again? you’d done it before the chances were not zero of you doing it again.

yuta didn’t want to lose you. he would rather gauge his eyes out and eat them for breakfast.

with that, yuta stumbled through his room putting on his shoes and snatching his car keys from his night stand, running down the hall and slamming the front door shut before getting in his car.

the drive was only about fifteen minutes to your house, and he felt so bad that it was nearly two in the morning and he was most likely going to wake you up, but he couldn’t stand it. he was going absolutely crazy, everything in him gnawing and eating him alive, his brother having pushed every single button in his body and more.

his tires screeched as he pulled into your driveway, thankful that your parents were away on a getaway trip as he slammed his car door shut and made his way up to your front door. yuta rang your doorbell twice before you finally opened it.

slowly, you peeked your tired eye through the slit, and your body immediately relaxed at the sight of him. “oh my god yuta, you scared the absolute shit out of—”

you stopped, your face falling at his livid expression and the way his chest heaved erratically. “yu? are you okay? what’s going on—”

but yuta only pushed passed you and trudged up your stairs without another word. dumbstruck, you closed your front door with a click and locked it, following him up the stairs and into your room.

“what’s wrong?”

“my brother is visiting from college.” he mumbled, sitting stiff on your desk chair. you moved to stand in front of him.

“…you mentioned that yeah—”

“and he… he told me that he wants to reach out to you.”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “me? for what?”

“he says he wants to catch up with you, see how you’re doing. be friends again i guess.”

yuta’s eyes remained stuck to the floor like glue, and you remained silent as you processed his words, confused out of your mind.

“i mean… i mean i guess? i guess that’s fine—”

his head snapped up, “that’s fine?”

you shrugged, “yes? i don’t see the big deal i don’t—”

“baby—” he shook his head in disbelief. “he absolutely broke you and treated you like nothing in high school, and you’re fine letting him back into your life? great.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “why are you being like that? he just wants to be friends again and that’s fine with me—”

yuta scoffed. “he doesn’t deserve it! he doesn’t deserve you—”

“yuta, whatever happened between your brother and i was years ago! i’m over it! this isn’t a big fucking deal!”

you hated fighting with him, god how much you hated it, and the way that he looked at you now was making you absolutely sick.

“so you’re just gonna be friends with him again?” he shrugged, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“yeah?”

“you’re fucking stupid,” he spat, getting up from your desk chair and walking over to the door, reaching for your doorknob.

you instantly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“what’s wrong with me?!” he raised his voice, jabbing a finger to his chest. “what’s wrong with you! do you not remember how bad you got when he did what he did?! do you really think i would stand here okay with you rekindling your little love for my brother?”

you scoffed, “my little love?!”

and before you knew it, angry tears were streaming down your face. you hated the way he was talking to you, and you didn’t know how your argument escalated so quickly and so drastically as you wiped your cheeks furiously.

and at the sight of you crying, yuta faltered slightly, his eyes softening.

“why do you think i still love him? i don’t! i haven’t since he rejected me!—”

“who says you won’t start again?” he spoke lowly, arms crossed over his chest. “my brother never had to lift a fucking finger for you to be head over heels for him. you don’t give a shit about yourself and you’re willing to throw yourself at him again—”

“shut up.” you spat, sobs raking through your body. “the fact that you’re stuffing a bunch of fucking words into my mouth and assuming i’m going to jump into your brothers arms is bullshit.”

“i—”

“is this how low you think of me?”

“no baby i don’t—”

“yes you clearly do because everything that’s come out of your mouth—”

“no! no i’m sorry i don’t—”

“then why—”

yuta shoved his hands into his hair exasperated, “because i love you!”

he let his arms fall limp, his eyes glossy and red with the most gut wrenching look on his face that read pure exhaustion. you had never seen him so torn.

“i love you and i love you and i have since since i was fifteen,” his voice shook with each word, hands trembling at his sides. “more than a best friend, more than anything in this world, and i never saw you like another sibling like you did for me.”

“fi.. fifteen?” you spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear you.

he nodded sadly, silent tears slipping down his cheeks and you automatically reached up, softly wiping them away with your thumbs as he closed his eyes, much like how yuta did when you got your heart broken by his brother on that rainy day.

yuta never cried.

“i swallowed it. you loved my brother and i swallowed it. i didn’t give a shit if you only saw me as a sibling because i would rather make some type of mark in your life and be in it than not have you at all. but i can’t take it anymore.”

he let out a sob, and he instantly shoved his face in the crook of his arm in embarrassment.

“yu…”

“you mean absolutely everything to me baby,” his voice was muffled a bit by his elbow, and after roughly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, he dropped his arm to look at you again. “i would do absolutely a-anything for you. you’re precious to me and the prettiest girl i have ever laid my eyes on and will ever lay my eyes on.”

he hiccuped and crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at your ceiling. “but i know you don’t love me like i love you. i’ve known for years and i just can’t bring myself to let you go. it’s so bad that i would rather you break my heart over and over again than let you go for the sake of my wellbeing and watch you walk out of my life—”

“yuta, can you please look at me?”

“i— i can’t,” he shook his head as his voice trembled, tears slipping from the sides of his eyes as he continued to stare at your ceiling. “i can’t do it—”

you slowly reached out and cupped his wet cheeks in the palm of your hands, tilting his face down gently to look at you, your eyes filled with remorse at the defeated look on his face.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked softly. “why didn’t you tell you were hurting so much?”

he shook his head slowly in your hands. “it’s not fair to you. i didn’t want to put you in a difficult position—”

“what difficult position, yu?” you spoke so gently, so sweetly to him that he almost fell to his knees. “how could you have kept this in for five years? i can’t even imagine—” you hiccuped, “i hate that you were hurting because of me-“

your voice began to contort again into sobs, and he quickly shook his head. “no baby no, it was not because of you, you did nothing wrong. you did the exact opposite.”

you wiped more of his tears with your fingers as he spoke, listening intently.

“no one gave a shit about me the way you did. not even my own parents, and not even my stupid brother that pretended like i practically didn’t exist. you were the only one that was there and you didn’t have to be. you could’ve easily ditched me at any given point and you never did, and i can’t thank you enough for giving me a reason to keep going.”

he wiped his eyes. “and that’s why i fell in love with you so hard because you were so selfless and sweet and i love your smile. i don’t think i could ever make up for everything you’ve done—”

“but you have!—” you interjected, but yuta only shook his head.

“no i haven’t. i’m a stubborn asshole who just said a bunch of shit five minutes ago that i didn’t mean and i only hurt you and i never wanted that—”

“yuta.” you spoke firmly. “you’ve literally done more for me than anyone else in my entire life and i hate that you can’t see that or give yourself credit. you were there for me when i went absolutely insane after your brother rejected me even though you loved me then. you put your own feelings aside to take care of me baby..”

you softly took his hands and led him to sit with you on the bed, wiping his wet cheeks with your sleeve.

“do you not remember when even though you didn’t have a job, any chance you got money you would spend it on me instead of yourself?” you laughed softly. “the minute you got your license you drove me anywhere i wanted… and even to little things like the store because you said you didn’t want me to spend gas money.”

yuta slightly smiled.

“you never ditched me either, when there was every opportunity you could’ve. you always make sure i eat and get enough sleep… and you make me so happy yu, i wish you could see how much i miss you when you’re not around.”

he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in, softly planting a kiss to your cheek. you smiled warmly.

“who told you i didn’t love you back?”

yuta froze. “you did?”

“when?”

“the day my brother rejected you?” he cocked his head to the side. “i had asked you if you saw me as another sibling and you said yes.”

you threw your head back and moaned, “oh my god yu, of course in that moment because i was stupid and into your brother and i had just gotten rejected!”

you deflated and smiled at him warmly then, your eyes shining with emotions he didn’t allow himself to believe were there. for five years, yuta forced himself to believe you could never return his feelings as a form of protection, and now there was a huge wall in his brain that was itching to come down.

you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, your foreheads touching. “ask me again.”

“hm?” he was dazed, wide eyes staring into yours.

“ask me that question again,” you spoke softly. “the one from that day.”

yuta swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky through his nose, reiterating the phrase he played through his head like a broken record since it happened.

“as another sibling…” he murmured. “is that how you see me?”

you shook your head gently against his forehead, “no… to me—” you leaned back slightly and tilted your head to the side. “you look like the man i’ve been in love with for the past three years.”

silence. nothing.

and then, his eyes welled with tears as he tackled you down and just cried. he cried and he cried into your neck and shook like a little leaf, you holding him so unbelievably tight as your bottom lip wobbled. yuta’s arms were snaked around you as he held you with just as much force if not more.

half a decade. half a decade yuta spent hopelessly lovesick for you that your words burned over his entire body like a fever, his mind reeling and hazy. he held on to you so fucking tight and refused to let go of you, in fear that this was all just some horrendous sick dream and he was going to wake up alone in his bed without you.

you placed a hand on the back of his head as you hugged him, “i love you so much yuta that sometimes i feel like im going nuts.” you laughed softly. “it was always you… it’s been you that’s why i said earlier that i didn’t care if your brother wanted to be friends again, because i love you and i don’t give a shit about him and i’m sorry i made you upset—”

“no,” he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and looked at you, his cheeks flushed with dried up tears and red eyes. “that was just me being an absolute dick and scared of re-living high school all over again. i took that out on you and that wasn’t fair at all, baby. i’m sorry.”

you carded your fingers through his hair. “we both have things to be sorry about, and a lot of years to make up for.”

and finally, yuta grinned so big that his cheeks hurt.

“can i—“ he exhaled shakily. “can i kiss you?”

“please.”

and he smashed his lips against yours, greedily kissing you with so much desperation as he lip locked with you, his hands squeezing and roaming your body. the sound of your lips smacking was loud, and his kisses were so needy and sloppy against your soft plush lips that you squeaked at the intensity. you felt him grin again at your noise and he pulled away from you.

“i’ve wanted this for so long…” he breathed out, his breath fanning against your face as you tried to recover from what was probably the best kiss of your life. you nodded frantically, too dazed and caught up in the thought of his mouth on yours to respond with sentences that made sense.

he chuckled cutely at this, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i love you and i love you.”

and since then, it was like the final wall had finally crumbled down, and yuta began to live like he was supposed to, like he was meant to, with you. his days of yearning and silent torment were over, and most of the time it still felt like a dream whenever he was by your side.

things stayed relatively the same between you two, as you now acknowledge how much of a couple you both actually were acting prior to yuta’s confession. the only major difference now though, was that yuta earned the privilege to call you his and give you sweet kisses as he picked you up from class, or when you make and hand him those ham sandwiches you always do just for him, only this time adorned with a honeyed kiss of your own.

sitting on his living room couch now, your head resting on his lap as a random horror movie played in the background, yuta’s fingers gently brushed over the features of your face as you stared at the tv, his eyes stuck to you like sticky lovesick glue.

you turned your head to look at him after a bit. “why don’t you start playing soccer again?” you hummed. “is there a team at your school?”

yuta nodded, “there is baby.”

“why don’t you try out?” you smiled sweetly at him, and his heart ached. “i always loved watching you play. i miss it.”

“okay,” he tapped your nose. “just for you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “and i’ll start dragging your brother with me again.”

yuta’s eyes flung open as his jaw dropped, and you snorted, giggling uncontrollably as he tickled and pinched at your sides. “i’m just kidding! i’m kidding! i’d rather die.”

he let out a boyish laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “as much as i hate him, i can’t thank him enough for being a stupid dingus.”

you quirked an eyebrow, “thank him? why?”

yuta gently and softly pinched one of your cheeks as he smiled at you, and it was then that you noticed the bags under his eyes were nearly gone. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, moving some of your hair away from your face after he did so.

“because he brought you to me.”

and you smiled, that same radiant sweet smile that made him fall in love with you in the first place, as you reached up and ran a tender finger under where his eye bags once stood, your voice light and airy as you spoke—

“i love you and i love you, yuta.”

[beloveds-embrace]

Neglected omega reader who got taken care of by someone else. Nikolai or Konig. The drama ✨✨

I hope i did KorTac justice, I’ve never written them before except König lol @nightunite pspspsps i have nikto crumbs 🙏🏻

Neglected omega reader p1 + p2

KorTac had always liked you.

From the very first moment they’d met you, they’d been drawn in- pulled by the quiet gravity of your presence and the sharp edge of your competence. You were quick on your feet, sharp with a knife, steady under pressure. Smart and resourceful in a way that demanded respect.

But more than that?

You had heart.

You’d been assigned to their unit during a joint operation months ago. Just a temporary deployment, only meant to last a few weeks, but it had been long enough for them to notice things- little things they hadn’t been able to forget.

The way you’d patched König up without hesitation after a mission went sideways, hands steady even as blood slicked your fingers. The way you’d shared your rations with Horangi after a supply drop came in light, brushing off his protests with a stubborn glare. The way you’d sat quietly beside Nikto on watch, not asking questions when he didn’t feel like talking but always ready to listen when he did.

They noticed you, and they liked what they saw.

Liked the way you worked. Liked the way you took care of your team without ever expecting anything in return. Liked the way you carried yourself- confident but kind. Fierce but soft.

But you weren’t theirs. Couldn’t be.

You belonged to 141, and KorTac had backed off, unwilling to overstep boundaries when you already had a pack waiting for you at home. They’d told themselves it was fine- they were fine- watching from a distance.

But then you came back.

Alone.

Hollow-eyed and sharp-edged, moving like a ghost through the halls of the base, and suddenly?

All bets were off.

The first time König sees you in such a state, it’s in the corridor outside the mess hall.

You don’t look up when he walks by, don’t even seem to notice the sheer weight of his presence as he slows, lingering just long enough to let his shadow stretch over you. You’re leaning against the wall like you’re trying to hold yourself together, arms wrapped tight around your middle, shoulders curled inward. Small. Smaller than he’s ever seen you look before. Smaller than he’d ever thought he’d ever see you.

His instincts itch- Omega, alone, hurting- but you’re not his. And still…

His eyes track the tired slump of your shoulders, the way your clothes hang loose, like you’ve been skipping meals. He scents the air. Picks up the faded traces of peach and rose, but there’s something sour underneath- bitter and wrong, like spoiled fruit. König’s stomach twists.

It’s the scent of neglect.

You should never have looked like this. You should have never smelled like this.

Not you. Not the Omega who had once dragged him out of the line of fire without hesitation, barking orders and holding the line until reinforcements arrived. Not the Omega who had once laughed with him under a tin roof during a monsoon, eyes bright.

The smell lingers after he walks away, clinging to the back of his throat like smoke. But it’s the emptiness of it- the hollowness- that keeps him awake that night, staring at the ceiling and wondering which one of those 141 bastards let their Omega rot like this.

The next time König sees you, it’s in the armory.

You’re cataloging weapons, checking and re-checking the tags with mechanical precision, but your hands shake when you reach for the next one. Just a little. Just enough for him to notice.

König moves closer. Quiet, but not too quiet- he doesn’t want to startle you. You don’t look up until his shadow stretches over your workbench, and when you do, the look in your eyes hits him like a gut-punch.

Flat. Guarded. Resigned.

Like you’re expecting him to scold you.

König’s heart cracks wide open. He grips the edge of the table just to keep from reaching out.

“Doing good work.” He says softly, and you just blink.

It’s such a small thing- barely even a compliment- but your throat bobs like you’re swallowing something down. Then you duck your head and go back to your task, not looking at him again.

But you don’t flinch.

Not this time.

Nikto is next, and he doesn’t hesitate.

He remembers you. Remembers the way you’d stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the rain, eyes scanning the horizon with sharp focus as you both waited for the enemy to make their move.

You hadn’t been scared. Not even a little.

And now?

He catches you outside the rec room, sitting on the stairs with your knees drawn up to your chest. You don’t even react when he approaches, just keep staring at the floor like it might swallow you whole.

Now, you look like you’re drowning.

So Nikto doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t say anything. Just crouches down beside you and sets a cup of coffee at your feet before walking away.

You stare at it for almost five minutes before finally picking it up.

The next morning, he does it again. Same cup. Same coffee. Same wordless offering.

It becomes a routine- something quiet and steady, something you can rely on when everything else feels too heavy.

And then there’s Horangi, who pushes the hardest.

He pushes, because he knows you can take it.

You had before- back when you’d yelled at him for ignoring orders and running off alone, eyes blazing as you shoved him back toward the evac point. He’d liked your fire back then, liked the way you didn’t back down even when he towered over you.

But now?

Now your fire’s gone out, and there’s only one group to blame.

So Horangi pushes. Tests the waters, pokes at the edges, trying to find the spark he knows is still there. He is the loudest of the three, sharp and quick with his words, but he also knows when to keep them soft. He finds you cleaning your gear one night and sits down beside you without asking.

“You missed dinner.” He says casually, pulling out a protein bar and tossing it onto your lap. Pushing past the bubble you’ve wrapped around yourself, yet not being overbearing or too much.

You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not your Alpha,” he says with a shrug. “You don’t have to listen to me.”

You close your mouth. Look down at the protein bar. Then, without a word, you tear it open and take a bite.

Horangi grins. And just like that, he’s in.

And when you finally- finally- smile at one of his jokes?

He knows he’s got you.

141 starts noticing the shift almost immediately. Soap catches König lingering near you in the gym, eyes following the curve of your spine as you stretch, and something inside him snaps.

Ghost sees Nikto brush his fingers against yours when he hands you something, and his jaw clenches so tight he can hear his teeth grind.

Price overhears Horangi making you laugh- a real, honest-to-God laugh, a sound he can’t hear any longer even in his dreams- and has to excuse himself before he says something he can’t take back.

It gets worse when your scent starts to change; the bitterness fades first, then the sourness.

The first time Price catches a hint of warmth blooming underneath, it stops him dead in his tracks.

Because it isn’t for him. It isn’t for them.

It’s even worse to know that they drove you to it, and have no one to blame but themselves.

They let you fall through the cracks. Let the weight of their own issues and distractions leave you stranded in the dark, too far away for them to pull you back when they finally noticed you were gone.

And now? Now KorTac is picking up the pieces, with no hesitation.

König steadies you. Makes sure you eat, makes sure you rest, makes sure you feel safe even when the world outside is crumbling. Doesn’t push you away when you, big hand lingering on the curve of your spine until his scent is left there.

Nikto grounds you. Offers quiet comfort without demands, without expectations. Makes sure you know he’s there, always there, steady and unshakable. A lighthouse in the stormy seas, the hand that pulls you out of the swirling ocean.

Horangi pushes and pushes. Draws out smiles and laughter, reminds you what it feels like to be wanted. Finds excuses to bump shoulders or brush against you when you pass, just to see if you’ll let him.

And you do. You let all of them, slowly greeting them with the quietest little purr (cat activation noise).

Because it’s easier to be wanted by them than it is to be unwanted by your own pack.

And slowly- so slowly it hurts- you start to come back to life; your scent changes. Softens. Warms. The bitterness fades and the sourness disappears.

And all they can do is only watch as König takes the space they abandoned. As Nikto feeds the hunger they ignored. As Horangi brings back the fire they let burn out.

And they can’t do a damn thing about it.

Because the truth is- KorTac wanted you from the start, and now that they’ve got you?

They’re never letting go.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

addicted to you | spencer reid x reader

Spencer isn’t inclined to be affectionate with you. He’s a socially awkward germaphobe, and you’re perfectly fine with it. However, being three months into your relationship, you can’t help but want more. Once Spencer gets a taste, he wants more too. A lot more.

part 1 | part 2 - insatiable

wc: 6.1k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: established relationship, first times, virgin!spencer, early seasons spencer, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering praise kink, morning wood, morning sex, sex in unconventional places (like, not in public but not the bed lol), cunnilingus, creampie, implied multiple orgasms

a/n: no excuse for this insane fic but i was strangely inspired by a post i saw on twitter that i wanted to put a lighthearted (and horny) spin on. i definitely felt crazy writing this and i feel crazy posting this now so i sure hope you enjoy this insanity! (p.s you can also find this fic on ao3!)

You don’t mind that Spencer isn’t touchy. You understand, with Spencer being a germaphobe and a little socially awkward, that he isn’t inclined to kisses on the cheek or holding your hand. You’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already getting better at doing these things, which makes your heart sing. 

Spencer is sweet, willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He used to shy away from your touch, but he’s gotten more comfortable with you. He lets you hold his hand when you’re out on a date, or he’ll kiss you chastely out in public. He lets you drape yourself over him when you’re sitting on the couch together watching a show, his arm around your waist to pull you in close. 

While you can understand Spencer’s hesitance towards public displays of affection, due to his awkwardness and anxieties about germs, you’re surprised he hasn’t initiated anything more in the privacy of his apartment (or yours). You’re starting to itch for it, something more, your attraction to Spencer Reid simply too overwhelming for it to simply be sweet and innocent anymore. Your body craves him desperately, because he’s so lovely and so fucking handsome. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands more than once.

Tonight, you decide you’ll get what you want. You’re going to fuck Spencer Reid.

With your head buried in his shoulder during movie night, your hand runs down his body, getting dangerously close to his crotch – he jumps up off the couch, almost comedic, and stares at you like your touch had burned him. He looks positively freaked out. 

“Spencer,” you say, very confused that he’s not into this. What kind of man doesn’t like his girlfriend initiating sex? Hell, what kind of man doesn’t like sex? 

“I just–” Spencer pauses, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I can’t. Not right now, I–”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You assure him. “We don’t have to. Ever, if that’s what you want.”

His eyes widen again. “No! I want to, just– It’s difficult, right now.”

You cock your head slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spencer frowns slightly, seeming to know that talking about it is the most rational thing to do, but it’s not like that makes him want to do it. “Well, I– I’ve never done it before.”

Your mouth falls open, just a little, and you look up at him. While you don’t mean to judge, it certainly isn’t surprising. Spencer was fourteen when he was starting university, and his general awkward demeanour and extreme nerdiness would likely rule out any sexual encounters for him during his time in college. Spencer’s line of work would clearly make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship – you definitely lucked out with getting to date him – and he’s too much of a softie for one night stands. So, Spencer Reid being a virgin at twenty-seven definitely checks out.

“That’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s totally normal.”

Spencer’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, you know it took me a while to get used to being affectionate with you, so I think–”

“Being intimate with someone else is going to be a hurdle you’ll need time to cross, too?” 

Spencer looks up at you, eyes wet, looking at you like you’ve read him like an open book. He whispers, “Yeah.”

“That’s okay,” you repeat, even though you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to fuck Spencer Reid tonight. “I’ll– We’ll take it slow, if you want to try.”

“Yes, please.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. “I– We could try doing something tonight, too. I just– I wasn’t expecting it earlier. I’m sorry for pushing you off like that.”

You shake your head, reassuring him that you aren’t offended by it by any means. Then, you ask, “You’re sure you want to try? Tonight?”

Spencer nods, as he reaches for your hand. He holds it gently, resting it on his thigh. “Yeah. I haven’t– It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I want to, with you.”

You lean in to kiss his cheek gently. “I’m glad you trust me.”

His eyes are soft and syrupy when he meets your gaze. “Of course I trust you.”

You squeeze Spencer’s thigh before pressing your lips to his, the familiarity of kissing Spencer making you both ease up a little more. Your kiss is gentle, sweet, just like every other kiss you've shared, but you let your hand slide up his thigh as you kiss him, and you can feel Spencer tensing up under your touch. You squeeze his thigh to reassure him, and you feel Spencer wriggle underneath where you're leaning your body weight on him to loosen up. 

Your hand skirts over his crotch, a hardness under your palm that makes you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Spencer’s breathing is heavy as he keeps kissing you, and keeps letting you touch him. You think he’s so cute. You just want to make him feel good. 

You push the waistband of his sweats down, tugging him out of his pants. His cock is the same shade of red as his cheeks, his shyness turning you on extremely. 

He doesn’t look down at himself, where you’re holding him – instead, his eyes are intently focused on your face. You don’t push him about it, instead leaning forward to kiss him as you start to stroke his cock. 

This time, it feels desperate. Spencer kisses you with more fervour, like a fire’s been lit within him, the pleasure running through his veins almost like liquid courage as he kisses you deeply. You’re more than happy to be doing this, letting Spencer lick into your mouth while you jerk him off. You appreciate the weight of him in your hand, imagining him inside of you – but perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself. 

“You can touch me, Spence,” you say, in between Spencer kissing you fervently. His hands have been cupping your face, but otherwise he seems awkward with them. You pull back slightly, and while it’s adorable that he’s still holding your face sweetly, you drag his hands down to your chest, in the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Spencer’s drawer. “Like this.”

Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts through the shirt perfectly. He squeezes tentatively. You bite your lip as his palms brush over your nipples, as he manhandles you just a little. It’s more force than you’re used to from Spencer, kneading and squeezing and feeling you, and that makes your head spin. 

Daringly, Spencer’s hands slip under your shirt, as he leans back in to kiss you. You feel his calloused hands on your skin as he feels you up, making you shudder. His touch isn’t demanding nor pushy, simply exploratory as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips. 

Your arousal is pumping through your system, Spencer’s gentle submissiveness like a drug you can’t kick. The more you touch him, the more he reacts; touching you more, whimpering and gasping against your lips, into your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you coo in his ear, your hand speeding up on Spencer’s hardness. He’s leaking pathetically, wet in your palm, and he squirms underneath you. 

“I’m– It’s too–” Spencer cuts himself off with a helpless whine, like he can’t control himself. His hands grip your waist tight. “Please–”

“Mm,” you hum sympathetically, while you thoroughly enjoy seeing Spencer like this. “Wanna cum like this, baby?”

Spencer’s breathing hard. He can’t get the words out, but he shakes his head. You slow your strokes, to an excruciating pressure on his length. “No? Then tell me, Spence.”

“Inside you,” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut. 

You absolutely should not let Spencer fuck you for the first time on his couch, but he’s desperate and your resolve is steadily crumbling. “You– You’re sure?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, his eyes pleading with you helplessly.

So, you pull your hand back and push your shorts off instead. Your panties come off in one fell swoop, and you sit back onto the couch with your legs spread. Spencer’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted as he looks at you, takes the sight of you in. 

Then he’s like a baby deer, standing up and fumbling to get his sweatpants off. You can’t help but giggle at his awkward movements, in his excitement and eagerness to get to touch you, to get to fuck you. He’s quick to get between your legs, his hardness nudging at your entrance already. 

“Mm, not yet, Spence,” you hum. You reach for his hand, taking his wrist as you guide his fingers to your clit. “You know what to do, right?”

He turns his wrist so his fingers – God, his fingers – are poised almost elegantly above your clit. He presses down and starts to circle his fingers against you. You gasp.

“Thought you didn’t– oh– Didn’t have much experience,” you gasp. You hold onto Spencer’s forearm tight, throwing your head back as Spencer pleasures you.

Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I might not be experienced, but I’m not a prude– I remember the… stuff I’ve seen. Eidetic memory and all.”

“Stuff,” you laugh. “I’m sure the porn you’ve watched must’ve helped, darling.”

He slips his fingers into your wetness with an unsurprising ease, considering how turned on you are by him. He hits spots inside you you’ve never thought were possible to reach, but they make electricity zip up your spine. You moan as he crooks his fingers into you, rocking them in and out with a wet squelch.

Spencer grins at you. “You were saying?”

“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?” you huff, your tone teetering between awfully turned on and mildly annoyed. 

“You like it,” Spencer says, assured of himself, and you smile, because you really do.

“My love,” you moan, as Spencer presses his fingers into you, back out. “You should try fucking me now.”

Spencer’s fingers are still inside of you, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “You think so?”

You smile at him. “If you think you’re up for it.”

You mourn the loss of Spencer’s fingers, but as he’s mumbling to himself and lining his cock up with your entrance, you can only coo at how adorable you find all of this. And how turned on you are, but that’s more than obvious to the both of you by now. 

He looks to you, like he’s looking for reassurance. You nod. Even in the silence, he’s gotten the confidence to push his cock into you, the thickness of his tip breaching your hole. You gasp as you stretch around him, your cunt making space for him as he slides in, excruciatingly slow. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a whine as your tight heat engulfs him, his length swallowed up by you as he sinks deeper into you. “Oh, my God–”

“Just like that, baby,” you moan, your leg hooking around Spencer’s leg to coax him forward, closer to you. “Fuck.”

“Do I– When should I–” Spencer gasps, unable to form a coherent sentence with the pleasure swimming through his bloodstream. 

“You can start moving when you don’t feel like you’re going to blow your load if you breathe the wrong way,” you joke, but Spencer does seriously look like he’s going to finish any second. “Hey. Deep breaths, baby.”

Spencer’s brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he breathes in hard, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’d told you to do that when he’d helped you through a panic attack one time, and while you feel bad that he feels so nervous about all this, it’s extremely amusing to you right now. 

“Look at me,” you say, trying your best not to laugh. “You’re doing great, love.”

Spencer pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes looking to you for validation. 

“So good for me, darling,” you coo, your hand on his hip, while your thumb draws little circles into his skin. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer shudders, voice high-pitched and a little breathy. “I– You feel really good.”

“Yeah? It’ll feel even better when you start moving, sweetheart,” you hum. “You think you can do that for me? Slow, out then back in.”

Spencer whimpers, nodding, and he takes another deep breath in. His hands on your waist, he pulls out halfway before pressing back into you, and he moans so loudly your ears ring. “So– So tight, you–”

“That’s good, yeah? Feels good?” you coo. “Come on, baby. More.”

Spencer rests one of his arms on the back of the couch, holding himself steady and getting him that much closer to you. He starts to thrust in and out, starting off slow as he finds a rhythm. 

His thrusts are erratic, but you’re so wildly turned on and it still feels amazing, because it’s Spencer. 

Spencer is frantic, desperate, bracing himself against the couch as he fucks into you. Maybe pounding into you is a better phrase to use, because he’s fucking you like a madman, till the couch is squeaking under both your weight. You cry out, feeling Spencer drilling into you – and it feels so good.

“Oh, God,” Spencer whines. “You– It’s so good, oh–”

“Yeah, baby?” You rock your hips along with him, burying Spencer deeper into you. You clench so each thrust is a little tighter, and each time Spencer fucks into you, he moans a little louder. 

Amidst Spencer’s whines and pretty noises, you watch his face morph with pleasure, feeling assured that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. In fact, he’s probably enjoying this more. As you’re lost in your train of thought, admiring Spencer’s gorgeous face, you’re startled when you feel Spencer’s load inside of you, hot and slick. His hips flush against your ass, Spencer shudders as he rides out his orgasm, body trembling from the force of his pleasure.

“Oh, Spence,” you giggle, a little dizzy from how turned on you are, from watching Spencer lose himself just like that. You reach up to cup his face, your thumb gentle on his cheek. “Was that good?”

“Oh,” Spencer mumbles, seemingly brought back to reality. He pulls back, taking the sight of you in. “I’m– I’m good, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” you say. “You’re so cute. It’s so hot.”

“I mean, you are too, but– But you haven’t–”

“You wanna make it up to me, then?” You smile, gentle and warm and Spencer nods like he’s eager to please you. 

You kiss him while he pulls out, replacing the thickness of his cock with two fingers, which fit into you easily. Like before, Spencer presses his fingers into you, slick and wet and squelchy. Spencer curls them and fingerfucks you like a pro, like he’s done this a hundred times. With his face pressed into your shoulder and your arms slung around his neck, Spencer fucks you on his fingers until your toes are curling and you’re screaming his name. You cry out as you orgasm, shaking as Spencer fucks you through it. 

You’re almost embarrassed when you finally come back to your senses, no longer reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer is kissing your jawline sweetly, his clean hand stroking your hair.

“Hey,” Spencer says softly, somehow knowing you needed to hear him. He parrots you from earlier, “Was– Was that good?”

“So good, my love,” you murmur into his shoulder. Then, after a quiet moment, “I thought you needed some time to get comfortable with being intimate.” 

Spencer pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering it, before he says, “I know. But for you, I think I’d do anything.”

That’s all Spencer manages to get out before you kiss him again. It’s tender and sweet, the intensity behind your kiss no longer lustful but full of adoration and love. You feel like you could sob right now, but you manage to hold it back.

Spencer gets into the shower with you, which you’re surprised by, but his hands are soft on your body as he cleans you up. You shampoo his hair for him, even though he has to lean forward a little so you can reach. 

You end up falling asleep in Spencer’s bed, curled up in his arms. 

You don’t dream at night, but when you wake up with a hardness poking against your thigh and Spencer’s gentle snoring in your ear, you think you might be. 

In your dreariness, you reach behind you, the angular sharpness of Spencer’s hip bone under your palm. He’s warm, cuddled up against you, and the tickling of his breath on your neck tells you that this isn’t a dream. 

“Spence,” you whisper, shaking him slightly. You watch as he blinks himself awake, drowsy as he comes to focus on your face. “Hey.”

“Good morning,” Spencer says, his voice rough with disuse. “What’s up?”

“You are,” you smile, a little too pleased, as your hand snakes down toward his crotch. 

He squeaks at the contact, your soft hand on his hardness, “Um, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Had a good dream?”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “About you, yeah.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” you goad, wiggling your eyebrows. 

Spencer’s cheeks somehow get even redder than they already were, but he shakes his head. “I want– I want to have sex, though.”

Your eyes widen. “Now?”

“Do you have the time for it?” He asks, sheepish. “I– I want to fuck you again.”

Your cheeks flush at Spencer’s sudden crudeness. You think about what Spencer could’ve possibly dreamt up, wonder how Spencer could possibly be confident enough to tell you straight up that he wants to fuck you. That phrase probably hadn’t been in Spencer’s lexicon until about twelve hours ago – while Spencer was smart – a literal genius – his innocence was completely understandable. 

“We have time,” you exhale, looking back into his eyes after looking at the clock. “I only have to be at the office in a couple of hours.”

“Good,” Spencer says, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hands are frisky already, slipping underneath your shirt. Spencer splays his hands over your stomach, before reaching up to cup your breasts in his hands. 

“You like touching me like this, don’t you, baby?” you chuckle breathlessly, already feeling weak in the knees from the way Spencer holds you. “Mm, I’m surprised.”

“Why is that?” His words are slightly muffled against your skin, too busy kissing you to make himself sound coherent. His hands are rough against the softness of your skin, and you moan from the way he’s handling you.

“Yesterday you couldn’t even tell me you wanted to fuck,” you croon, thoroughly pleased. “And now you’re touching me like you know what you’re doing. It’s so hot.”

“I– I just can’t get enough of you,” Spencer admits, his earnest words turning you on extremely.

“Now you’re just horny,” you laugh, feeling Spencer’s hand slide over your underwear.

“Mm, you’re so wet right now too,” Spencer murmurs in your ear, his warm breath and raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Where’d he learn to talk like that? You squeeze your thighs together, but that doesn’t stop Spencer from feeling the wetness between your legs, soaking through your panties. 

“All for you, baby,” you gasp, as Spencer’s fingers slip past the band of your underwear, deftly stroking your clit. “Spencer–”

“Can I fuck you? Please?” He pleads, breathy, his hips already rutting forward against your ass. 

His eagerness makes your head spin, his sudden confidence in the realm of sex surprising – maybe it’s cockiness, but you still find that stupidly attractive – but it is certainly welcomed. 

“Yes, Spence, please,” you shudder, the word yes leaving your lips enough for Spencer to pull your underwear down, over the swell of your ass. He fumbles with his own boxers for a moment, but soon you feel his hard, leaking tip pressed to your butt. He rocks his hips back and forth, desperately seeking whatever friction he can get. 

Lost in his own pleasure, Spencer is quick to slide his cock between your legs, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to rut into the tight, slick space. Like this, his length rubs up against you, the head of his cock nudging at your clit with every thrust of his hips. It feels primal, Spencer so far gone that he isn’t even fucking you proper, content with the slick, tight space between your thighs and your pussy. You wonder if you need to tell him, but Spencer’s groan in your ear is shaky as his tip catches on your hole.

His arms wrapped around you, both of you moan as Spencer finally sinks his cock into you. He slides in too easily, so easily you almost think he’d hadn’t meant to do it. Maybe he hadn’t, but you’d gotten there in the end, where you both need to be; Spencer buried inside of you.

It’s so different from yesterday, the angle when he presses into you from behind so exhilarating, so good. He’s just as desperate as last night, but there’s a sort of reckless confidence in his movements. His hands slide under your shirt to grab at your tits again, rocking his hips while he practically gropes you. It’s so hot your head spins. You feel like you’re going to explode.

“Spencer!” You cry out, your voice ripping its way out of your throat. Pleasure surges through you like electricity, Spencer’s thick cock hitting all the right spots from this angle. His eager desperation turns you on to no end, as you let him take you from behind. While you weren’t expecting lazy, morning sex at all, the intensity and desperation he fucks you with right now makes you think you could get used to this.

Spencer’s whine has your head spinning. His hips don’t slow, more rhythmic than yesterday but still as needy. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” You coo breathlessly. You’re so fucking turned on, and every time Spencer drives his hips into you you can hear how wet you really are. “You’re doing so good for me, Spence, fucking me so good.”

“You like it? Is it good?” Spencer gasps, always so eager to please you.

“So good,” you moan. You’re still sore from last night, but the pleasure Spencer is giving you right now overrides all of that. You would love for him to wake you up like this every day. “I’m close, baby.”

“Oh,” Spencer says, like he’s surprised you’re already getting off on this, on him– “What do you need me to do?”

“Just keep going, Spence,” you gasp. “Keep fucking me just like this.”

Spencer’s hum is breathy, high-pitched. Somehow, his grip on you gets tighter, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The force he fucks you with is so wildly arousing. You’re so enamoured, and so turned on.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and steady as it bubbles up inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the dirty, rough way Spencer fucks you, and then you feel his soft lips on your neck again. He isn’t properly kissing you – more like slobbering all over your neck, but you cry out as he does so, thighs pressing together as you reach your orgasm. You’re shaking through it, clenching around Spencer as you come, and Spencer’s gasping as your tight pussy pushes Spencer over the edge too. You feel his come inside of you, cock twitching as his load spurts hot and heavy into your cunt. You sob, feeling Spencer slow his thrusts as he rides out his orgasm.

“Holy shit,” you say, your voice coming out ragged and hoarse. You feel like a different woman, being fucked ruthlessly by your boyfriend in his bed for the first time. You can’t get enough. 

“I love you,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. It makes you shudder. 

“You’re crazy,” you laugh, taken aback at how Spencer’s returned to his gentle, soft self. “I love you too, you madman.”

“I can’t resist you,” he murmurs in your ear, the vibrations of his raspy morning voice almost soothing.

You turn around to face him, Spencer still holding you in his arms. He smiles warmly at you, and you lean in to kiss him. “You’re so cute.”

“Wanna go again?” he asks, somewhat timid. 

Your eyes widen. You try to hide your grin, but it doesn’t work. “Someone’s desperate, huh?”

Spencer flushes a gorgeous red. “Maybe a little?”

“I have to get ready for work,” you sigh, actually a little bummed that you can't spend all day fucking Spencer. “Maybe tonight?”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles. “Want me to drive you back to yours?”

You grin. “You’re the best!”

Work is relatively uneventful, numbers and Excel spreadsheets; and all you can think about is Spencer’s rapid change in demeanour over the last twelve hours, his innocence torn away by you, leaving behind a horny, insatiable man. You’re kind of proud of yourself for that. 

So, you can’t blame yourself for being excited to get back to Spencer’s. Lately, you’ve been staying over more, your apartment simply a place to house your wardrobe. Maybe you’ll talk to Spencer about living together.

“Hey, Spence,” you say, pleased when Spencer kisses you as he greets you at the door. 

Even with all the probable germs on you from being out all day, Spencer’s surprisingly clingy, hands on your waist as he stumbles in behind you, as you set the takeout you’d brought over on his dining table. Spencer leans in behind you, kissing your cheek then down your neck.

“Hey, what’s with you, baby?” you chuckle, very much enjoying the way Spencer’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, grabbing the meat of your thighs through your dress pants.

“Missed you,” Spencer answers simply, but even you can tell there’s something in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more. 

“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone the whole day, my love. I’m sure you must’ve found something to busy yourself with, though?” You hum, teasing. You have a good idea of where this is going.

Spencer’s quiet for a moment, so you turn to look at him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, looking almost nervous, and his cheeks are flushed red. Spencer finally presses his body close to yours, and you feel it–

“Spence,” you grin, “Someone’s happy to see me.”

“Thought about it– Thought about you all day,” Spencer mumbles. “You promised.”

“What did I promise, baby?” you egg him on, eager to hear him say it, even though you definitely know what he’s going to ask. 

“That we would do it again tonight,” he answers, but you shoot him a look. “You said we would have sex again tonight.”

“Twice in one day? I don’t know, baby,” you pretend to sound disinterested.

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. Respectful as ever, he clears his throat. “Please? If you’re tired we don’t have to, but I really want to. Only if you want to, though. This involves both of us, I don’t want to impose–”

You giggle, reaching to hold his hands. “God, you’re perfect.”

“What–?” Spencer barely gets the word out before you’re kissing him. He’s happy to do so, holding your face gently, matching your energy perfectly. You feel his cock pressing against you. 

“I turned you into a sex fiend,” you laugh, between kissing him, “And you’re still thinking about making sure I’m into it too.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, like he can’t comprehend how he could be into it if you weren’t too. “And I- I’m not a sex fiend, I just–”

Smiling, you whisper sultrily, “I think you should take me right here, baby.”

“Oh–” You cut Spencer off with another kiss, and he squeaks as you reach for his half-hard cock through his sweatpants. You’re positively delighted that Spencer’s like this, for you.

Spencer kisses you deeply, leaning forward until the small of your back hits the edge of the table. His hands coming up to your ass, he lifts you up, getting you to lay back on the table. You gasp, as Spencer kisses down the column of your neck, his hands making quick work of the buttons of your dress shirt. His lips are soft against your skin, at the swell of your breasts. Your shirt gets pushed off your shoulders. You feel him unhook your bra with a surprising ease, tossed aside, and then his hands are grabbing your tits like they were made for him. His thumbs brush over your nipples, a little forceful as he kneads at you, and your head is spinning. 

“Spencer,” you moan, as he kisses down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants to reveal your soaked-through underwear. He smiles up at you, his messy mop of hair a lovely sight. 

“Can I…?” Spencer’s big brown eyes dart down to where you’re soaked, then back up at you.

Your eyes widen. “Yes. If you want to.”

Spencer grins. “Of course I want to.”

His fingers are gentle on your hips as he pulls your panties off, wasting no time in spreading your legs so he can get between them. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, feeling kind of self-conscious over how eager he is to be doing this. Knelt between your thighs, he lifts one of your legs and swings them over his shoulder. You can feel his stubble on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose nudging against your clit. His tongue comes up, wet and hot, as he tastes you for the first time. “Spencer–”

He presses his face impossibly closer, more urgent in eating you out. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his jaw flexing as his tongue works on you, and you’re trembling already. Spencer’s extremely good with his mouth, and you’re surprised at how good he’s making you feel, considering he likely hasn’t done this before. The sounds of his mouth are wet and squelchy and so obscene, and you would feel almost embarrassed, were it not for how into this Spencer seems to be too, 

With your hands in his hair, you cry out when Spencer’s tongue circles your swollen clit, jolts of pleasure sent through your body. You can’t think straight when Spencer’s face is buried between your legs, eating you out like he was made for this. All you can think about is how gifted Spencer is with his tongue, and how you wish you could do this all night. 

“Please, love,” you moan, “Need you to fuck me.”

Spencer hums in approval, the vibrations between your legs making you jump. He makes a little wet slurping noise before he comes back up, and you feel your cunt throb when he looks up at you with his lovely, wide brown eyes, and his chin wet and messy with your slick. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, and you’re so turned on you might just explode.

“I love you,” you tell him earnestly. “I think this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I love you.”

“What is? Having sex on my dinner table?” Spencer quips, as he sets your legs down and stands back up. He has a cocky grin plastered on his face. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “First time for everything, right?”

Spencer nods, smiling, before he leans forward to kiss you sweetly. You watch as he pulls his sweatpants down, his cock bobbing up, red and angry and rock hard. You feel yourself salivating at the sight, but decide that he needs to fuck you right now.

“Spencer,” you mewl, feeling breathless as you watch him wrap a hand around himself, stroking his length. Concentration is written all over his face and it makes you want to kiss him. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” Spencer says, pressing his cock forward until he’s lined up with your entrance. It’s so tantalising, the way the blunt head of his cock threatens to slip into you. You’re so wet and so loose for him, and you need him inside of you now.

You gasp when he finally pushes in, his thick cock splitting you in half as he slides into you. The pressure is so perfect, the slow draw of his hips as he takes care not to rush, wanting to take care of you. Even with all this still being new for Spencer, he still focuses on you, puts you first. You’re not sure if you’re swooning over him, or the way his cock fits inside you perfectly.

You don’t need to encourage him to start moving. He rocks his hips slowly, somehow already familiar with your body, and makes you feel like you could explode with pleasure. 

He leans forward, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you. Like this, Spencer presses into you deeper, fucks you slow and deep and loving. The edge of the table is absolutely digging into your back, but you don’t care when every sense of yours is filled with Spencer, getting to taste and touch and hear him. You taste yourself on his tongue, hear the sloppy way he thrusts into you, your skin burning wherever he’s pressed up against you. 

Burying his face in your neck, Spencer pants in your ear, hot and heavy as he fucks you, giving you everything you need. Your head is swimming with arousal, as Spencer presses you against the table and fucks you like his life depends on it. “You feel so good, fuck, so good–”

“I’m so close, baby,” you cry out, the pace absolutely ruthless as Spencer fucks you. You didn’t think his stamina would be this good, considering your boyfriend’s lanky stature and abhorrence towards exercise. You certainly wouldn’t mind doing this kind of cardio with him more often. “Please, Spence–”

“Let go, I– I’m here for you,” Spencer stumbles over his words, but he’s so sweet that you’re losing yourself, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. You scream as you reach your peak, your toes curling while Spencer fucks you through it, shaking as pleasure and arousal zips through your body. Spencer’s hips stutter as the tightness of your pussy has him reeling, too close too quickly. 

While his hips keep a steady pace, you’re feeling loopy as Spencer continues to fuck you. You hold his head close to you, kissing his forehead as you murmur, “You’re so hot, Spence. Made me come so quickly, and you held out for me? So good for me, baby. Are you close?”

Spencer whines, a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “Please, I’m so close, need you–”

“I’m right here, baby,” you coo, stroking his sweat-matted hair sweetly. You’re so enamoured with him. “Gonna cum inside me, Spence? Fill me up with your–”

You don’t even get to finish your dirty talk before Spencer is moaning, coming inside of you. It feels like he’s released so much inside of you, hot and messy as he fucks you through his own high. His chest heaves as he pants, trembling as he reels from the intensity of his orgasm. Spencer’s hips slow to a stop, and he mouths at your neck mindlessly until he seems to get his bearings back. You imagine you must look a mess, sweat and spit all over you, your makeup from a long day of work likely running by now. 

Spencer gets up off of you, so both of you have space to catch your breaths. You feel Spencer slip out of you with a slick ‘pop’, and feel his release trickle out of you just moments after. You stifle a quiet moan, but when you look up at Spencer, his eyes couldn’t possibly leave the sight between your legs. His lips are parted slightly, pupils blown wide, as he watches you drip with his release. You feel Spencer’s cock, resting against your inner thigh, twitch slightly. 

“Woah there, cowboy,” you chuckle, out of breath. “Give me a minute to recover.”

His eyes practically twinkle when they dart up to look at you. He’s like an excited puppy as he asks, “Again?”

You shake your head, laughing, and sit up to kiss Spencer again. “Maybe we could try something new?”

Spencer grins, nodding eagerly. It definitely seems like he’s down for whatever, as long as it’s with you. 

[catchastarorten]

—100 loaves of bread.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x bakeryowner!fem!reader

Summary: it started with a few visits from him buying 100 loaves of bread each time from your little bakery, but overtime the two of you started to get familiar, little did you know about his ‘work’ and how he should’ve given the card to you but didn't...

Content: fluff, aggressive stomping on bread, him having a soft spot for you, trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about you (it doesn’t work lol), a bit of reader's backstory, self-conflict and a bit of change of heart from him, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.1k

You were wiping down the counter when the familiar chime of the bell above the door jingled. It was late in the afternoon, and the bakery was quiet, except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of freshly baked bread and sugar lingering in the air. You glanced up, already knowing who it was. He was here again—the man with the sharp suit and the briefcase who bought bread in quantities that always left you baffled.

“Afternoon,” you said, watching as he walked in with the same calm, measured way as always. He almost looked too friendly for someone who carried himself so formally.

“Afternoon,” he replied, stepping up to the counter and resting his briefcase at his feet. “I’ll need the usual. A hundred loaves.”

A hundred loaves of bread. It was such a ridiculous request, and yet, he never failed to make it.

You’d asked him once, early on, what on earth he did with all that bread. Selling it somewhere else for a profit? Feeding a small army? Storing up for an apocalypse? He had only smiled at you then, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and said, “Something like that.”

It had been weeks since his first visit, and by now, the routine was familiar. You’d load loaf after loaf into paper bags while he stood patiently, sometimes asking about your day, sometimes quietly observing the modest little bakery. Today, though, you felt compelled to ask again.

“Are you sure you want all of it?” you asked, sliding the first bag across the counter. “That’s… a lot of bread.”

He smiled faintly, reaching for the bag and setting it beside him. “You ask me that every time.”

“Well, it’s not everyday someone comes in and buys out half my stock,” you said, tilting your head. “It makes me curious.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed like he might answer—really answer. But then he only shrugged slightly, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Let’s just say it goes to good use.”

You frowned, unsatisfied but unwilling to press further. He always paid in cash, crisp bills that he counted out with precision. You noticed, as you often did, that he never left without dropping a generous tip into the glass jar by the register. He offered you a warm look as he slipped a few bills into the tip jar again.

“Keep up the good work,” he said. “Your bread’s the best in the city.”

You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious. He seemed genuine, but there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Still, it wasn’t your place to pry. You handed him the last of the bags, and he left with the same polite nod as always.

The next time he came in, it wasn’t for a hundred loaves of bread.

You were behind the counter again, rearranging a tray of pastries, when you heard the door chime. Glancing up, you saw him standing there, his briefcase nowhere in sight.

“Not the usual today?” you asked, half-teasing.

He smiled slightly, stepping up to the counter. “Not today. I was thinking I’d try something different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He scanned the display case, his eyes lingering on a slice of strawberry shortcake near the center. “That,” he said, pointing.

You wrapped up the slice for him, and when you handed it over, he didn’t leave right away. Instead, he took a seat at one of the small tables by the window—a seat no one ever seemed to take—and unwrapped the cake with a kind of deliberate care. You watched, unable to help yourself, as he took a bite.

“It’s good,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Really good.”

A flicker of amusement crossed your face as you watched him eat. He wasn’t as neat as you’d expected—a bit of whipped cream ended up on the corner of his mouth, and he licked it away absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the shelves of decorative knick-knacks you’d lined the walls with.

“I never really noticed these before,” he said, gesturing toward a small ceramic cat perched on one of the shelves. “Did you make them?”

You shook your head. “No, those were my parents’. They used to run this place before me. They had a thing for collecting stuff like that.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s nice. Feels… homey.”

You didn’t know why, but his words left you oddly self-conscious. The bakery had always been your parents’ dream, not yours, and while you’d taken it over out of necessity, you’d never thought much about how it felt to anyone else. But hearing him say it was homey made you feel a faint sense of pride.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

He stayed longer than usual that day, finishing his cake and ordering a coffee to go with it.

You found yourself talking to him more than you normally would with a customer. He asked about the bakery, about your favorite thing to bake, about whether you’d ever considered expanding. You didn’t ask about him—not directly—but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he was.

By the time he left, it was dark outside, and the bakery was empty except for you. As you locked up for the night, you found yourself thinking about his smile, the way it lingered even after he was gone.

One day, as he was paying for a loaf of sourdough, he looked at you, his head tilting slightly. “Do you ever think about getting out of here?” he asked.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… this place is great, but don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it—leaving, starting fresh somewhere new—but the bakery was all you’d ever known. It was safe, familiar. And after your parents passed, it felt like the only thing that tethered you to them.

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know. This place… it’s home.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, there was a silence between you. Then he smiled again, that warm, almost disarming smile, and slid an extra bill across the counter. “For the tip jar,” he said.

You watched as he walked out the door, his briefcase in hand, and wondered—for the hundredth time—what kind of life he led.

...

The bell above the bakery door chimed familiarly.

He stepped inside, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, his polished demeanor there as always. But inside, his stomach churned. He had made a decision today—a decision that, for once, made him feel something like guilt.

He scanned the shop. You were at the counter, hands dusted with flour as you arranged freshly baked rolls on a tray. The soft glow of the afternoon light spilling through the window caught on your hair, and the faintest smile tugged at your lips when you saw him. That smile… It was a problem.

“Afternoon,” you said, just as you always did. Your voice was warm, even though he could see the slight tiredness beneath it. That smile didn’t reach your eyes as much these days, but you still tried, didn’t you?

He nodded, keeping his face neutral. “Afternoon.”

You weren’t supposed to matter to him. That was the rule. He had a job to do, a system to uphold, and people like you—drowning in debt—were just part of the equation. It shouldn't have mattered how good-hearted you were, how hardworking you were.

You weren’t special... at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He first started coming to your bakery for convenience, but as time passed, the lines started to blur. The bread looked good, better than most places in this part of the city, and you didn’t ask too many questions.

The loaves weren’t for eating, of course. They were for a little ‘social experiment’.

“Bread or lottery?” That’s what he’d ask them—the desperate, homeless souls he scouted in the park. It was always the same. He’d hold out a loaf in one hand, a lottery scratcher in the other. The bread could fill their stomachs. But the lottery ticket? That promised a chance. A gamble. A way out.

They always chose the ticket. Every time.

He knew what came next. The moment they realized it wasn’t a winning ticket after all. They’d just stared at him, some cursed out loud, some were just disappointed, their hopes bleeding out onto the pavement.

And the bread? He destroyed it. Stomped it into the ground until it was unrecognizable, crumbs scattering across the concrete.

It was dramatic, yes, but it served its purpose. It showed them the choice that they had made, the food that they had thrown away and destroyed, not him. It was necessary. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the bread came from you.

That detail had started to bother him more and more. You put your heart into every loaf, every pastry, every crumb that came out of your oven. He saw it in the way you worked, the way you carefully packed the loaves into paper bags for him, the way you smiled when he left a tip. He had started tipping more, as if that would excuse him of the guilt of what he was doing with your work—it didn’t.

He had been keeping tabs on you. He knew about your debts, the ones you and your brother had racked up trying to keep the bakery afloat after your parents passed. He knew how hard you worked to stay above water, how you barely made enough to cover the bills some months.

You were exactly the kind of person he was supposed to recruit.

He told himself that’s why he started coming more often. He needed to assess you, to figure out the right moment to offer you the card. But the truth was, he liked being in the bakery. He liked the smell of fresh bread and sugar, the hum of the old refrigerator, the quiet way you moved behind the counter. He liked your voice when you asked him how his day was going, even though he never answered honestly.

And he hated himself for liking any of it.

The card was in his pocket today. He had been carrying it around for a while now, waiting for the right moment.

Today, he had decided, would be the day. After all, you deserved it, right? The games were brutal, yes, but they were also fair. A chance for people like you to escape the crushing weight of debt.

That’s what he told himself as he walked into the bakery. But when you looked up at him, your flour-dusted hands resting on the counter, and said, “So, what are you getting today?”—he froze.

He could feel the card in his pocket, its edges pressing against his fingers. All he had to do was pull it out, slide it across the counter, and say the words. But he couldn’t do it. Not to you.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take another slice of that cake,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

You looked over to the display. “The strawberry one?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his finger gently tapping the display glass that caged all the pastries. “It’s… good.”

You smiled faintly, wrapping up the slice and handing it to him. “Anything else?”

He hesitated, the card burning a hole in his pocket. But then your eyes met his, and something in them—something warm, something real—made his resolve crumble.

“No,” he said softly. “That’s all.”

As he ate the cake at the small table by the window again, he told himself that letting you go was the right thing to do. You didn’t belong in the games. You didn’t belong in his world. And yet, he felt something close to longing as he watched you work behind the counter, your movements quick and precise, your expression focused.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he felt human.

When he left the bakery that day, he slipped a few extra bills into the tip jar. He told himself it was just another gesture, another way to balance the scales. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did—what he was.

And yet, he didn’t offer you the card. He didn’t bring it the next time he visited, or the time after that. He told himself he’d do it eventually, that it was inevitable. But the truth was, he didn’t have the heart to drag you into the darkness he inhabited every day.

You weren’t like him. And he wanted—no, needed—to keep it that way.

[koobiie]

bestowing my highest honor as an artist to ffxv (drawing the characters in fun outfits)

thoughts under the cut

RREAAAGHHHH SO EXCITED TO BE DONE WITH THIS!!!!! it took me forevarrrr but i soldiered through as an act of love. now excuse me. yap time

OKAY SO the concept behind this was originally specific fashion subcultures for everyone!l ike noct emo ignis dark academia etc. but then decided i didnt want to pigeonhole it all and just freestyled outfits i thought would look nice on everyone

noct - i do think noct would still be emo-ish but also opt for comfy baggy stuff a lot. something you could just fall asleep in on the spot. note the details of bass pro shop shirt (of course) XV necklace, little moon + stars accents, carbuncle + fish keychains. i also wanted his metal band logo shirt to spell LUCIS but i forgor some letters but its not very readable anyways

ignis - ignit ooohghh ignos ignaurs. sorry i made him serve so much cunt it will happen again. i drew him first cause that kind of inspired this whole thing i love him so bad if i didnt draw it id explode. not much detail to note except his collar pins are like his double blade thingies

luna - lunaaa the concept was “clean girl aesthetic” idk if that happened but im actually really happy with how it came out! might be my favorite of the bunch just because she looks so pretty and happy. your honor she should have been able to just be a normal girl and just. chill

prompto - prompotoooo i had trouble picking his vibe!!! my first thought was techwear?? because weeheeeehee he loves tech and well... you know... but then i realized i didnt really like the look of anything i saw + it was so bulky and dark and serious for him! ending up going with some more youthful and baggy. i was considering something more loud and colorful but ended up not going with it. i feel like in canon he'd be too nervous to have such a flashy fit and would want to just look "cool" to fit in with the boys lol. itty bitty details here - chocobo keychain, pompompurin and bi miku buttons, and his lanyard is kings knight themed! i also thought it was funny to write LUCIS on his shirt like you know those shirts that just say BROOKLYN or TOKYO or SAN FRANCISCO and thats it. thats what its like

gladio - okay i know this is going to sound like a lie but im not horny for gladio like at all, hes my least favorite, i think he's just alright. but also i KNOW in my heart of hearts that he would LOVE being a leather daddy and so i had to make it happen. main detail to note here is that his tank top has the motifs of a cup noodle! i didnt know what else to add cause you know.. hes the cup noodle guy.. but also i didnt want it to be so in your face about it with a big as logo so kept it subtle!

(side note the leather daddy gave me an idea for a post where its like noct and prom go to a gay bar all nervous but then they run into gladio and its like "p: GLADIO YOURE GAY?" "n: nevermind that PLEASE dont tell ignis we snuck out" and then ignis walks up and theyre all like WHAT THE FUCK!!!! caption would be "the gang finds out theyre all bisexual." probably wont draw it but i think its very funny lol)

iris - iris my sweetheart.... definitely leaned into the scene vibes here and also that one image of the blonde emo anime girl. details here - of course the moogle big ass backpack and keychain (can you tell i love keychains), but also her buttons are an iris (the flower) and also a crown with hearts (haha symbolism)

anyways oh god i didnt mean to write an essay down here. usually i keep this in the tags but this time i just had Too Much To Say. can you tell i put a lot of thought and love into this . anwyays. *walks off into the sunset and fuckig dies*

[sun-kissy]

light | bucky barnes

bucky barnes x sunshine!reader; neighbour au — ★ 1k words

summary: bucky meets you, his bright, new neighbour, and is instantly endeared

tw: nothing, tooth-rotting fluff <3

a/n: first time writing for bucky… please be nice 🥲 consider this my official letter of intent into the mcu fandom on tumblr LOL

Ding dong! Bucky is quick to get to the door, abandoning his attempts at brewing coffee. The espresso machine Sam had gotten him sits sadly on the kitchen platform, likely broken from the looks of the dented knob and crooked buttons. Some things he could get a hang of easily — appliances were not one of them, and neither was using his metal arm with gentleness. He’d have to try and fix it back up later.

He pulls the door open, pleasantly surprised to see you standing there, with your twinkling eyes and sweet smile. Bucky hadn’t known what love felt like in a long, long time. But he thought the ache in his heart when he first saw you came dangerously close to it.

His first encounter with you was a couple of days ago, when he was just moving in. Dr. Raynor had told him that a move would be good for him, giving him a chance to have a fresh start. Bullshit. The only thing he’d gotten out of the new neighbourhood so far was a headache because of the sweltering heat, and a pulled muscle in his arm — the non-metal one — from hauling boxes up the stairs to his apartment.

He was busy cursing his therapist under his breath when you showed up, like some sort of angel in his plight. You jogged over to him brightly, hand wrapped around the leash of a fluffy brown dog. Bucky’s first instinct was to push you away when you offered to help. But you were persistent, and he gave in on account of shutting you up.

Your smile had widened immediately, and he remembered wondering how anyone could be so happy to help a stranger.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Your enthusiasm only grew with each minute you spent together. It was like you couldn’t stop chattering — asking him where he was from, how long he was going to stay, and everything else under the sun. He hadn’t asked, but he got to know a lot about you too. He now knew you worked in a clinic near the neighbourhood, you lived alone with your dog (whose name was Milo), and that you weren’t particularly close to any family.

Bucky couldn’t help but soften more and more by the second. You were incredibly endearing, all soft smiles and loud laughter. It was like catching the first glimpses of morning light after being locked up in darkness for a lifetime, and frankly, he was smitten. You told him that you lived a few floors up and that you’d be back to visit soon. When you held Milo’s paw in your hand, the dog all bundled up in your arms, and waved him the most adorable little goodbye, he knew he was gone.

He was more than happy to see you on his front door today. You were all dolled up, pink tube top with a frilly white skirt. He couldn’t help the smile that quirked his lips. “Hey.”

“Hi!” you chirp, already digging into your bag for something. Bucky eyes you with an arched eyebrow as you pull out a Tupperware box, handing it to him excitedly. “Brownies.”

“For me?” He hesitantly takes it from you, surprised. There’s a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach.

You step into the house as he pulls the door open wider, confirming it with a nod. “Yeah, for you. Baked them myself.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, closing the door behind you. No one’s ever done something like this for him before, niceness for the hell of it. It makes him want to pull you into a hug. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all,” you brush him off, flashing him a small smile before turning your attention to his living room. He watches as you peruse the place curiously, eyes darting all over before landing on the espresso machine. “So, James…” you start unsteadily as you walk towards the kitchen.

Bucky lets out a huff of laughter. “James? Where’d you get that?”

“I asked the security guard downstairs about you, didn’t let him off till he told me your name,” you smile sheepishly, twirling your curls around your finger. “He said it was James Buka… Bucha…”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he interrupts with a fond sort of amusement. “Bucky for short.”

“Bucky,” you repeat with a giggle. “Cute. I like it. Also, do you need help with this?” You gesture at the smoking coffee machine, spilt puddles of the liquid dotting the kitchen platform.

“Oh, um,” he shrugs, a light pinkness dusting his cheeks. “Sure.” He watches as you grab a new mug and pour some milk into the machine. Your tongue juts out adorably as you click the buttons concentratedly. “What’s yours?”

“Y/n,” you mutter, straightening up proudly as the brown liquid starts to spout into the mug. You turn to him with an accomplished grin. “It’s working.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, heart squeezing in his chest when you give him a wink. “Y/n. That’s a pretty name.”

Bucky swears he can see the blush on your cheeks, but it’s hard to make out with your back turned to him. You busy yourself with wiping the spilt coffee, but he hears the smile in your voice when you thank him.

You hand him his coffee before grabbing one yourself, making yourself comfortable on his couch. He leans against the platform as he talks to you.

Surprisingly, you’re not as chatty today. Perhaps you were more comfortable around him, feeling less of a need to fill the silence. He tells you about the war when you point to a picture on the wall, one from the 40s, in which his arm is slung around Steve’s shoulder. He’s glad you don’t ask about Steve.

Soon, you make to leave. “I have an appointment with a friend,” you smile apologetically as you stand, dusting yourself off. “This was fun, though.”

Bucky nods and walks you to the front door, pulling it open. “It was.”

“See you around sometime?” you ask hopefully as you pull your heels on.

He softens, voice tinged with affection. “Sure. Why don’t you come over for lunch tomorrow, if you’re free?”

“Really?” you beam. “Great. I’ll be here.”

You call out to Bucky as you make your way to the stairs, vigorously waving your hand in farewell. He gives you a small wave in return, trying his best not to smile.

[reshinless]

Hear me out..Jealous!kinich x reader smut...also I love your writing style it makes me wanna explode🤭

──── bet you feel it now, baby

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. you didn't have to laugh that hard at his joke. it wasn't even that funny. he's better, it's fine, he'll just show you how much better he is.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader, !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. posting wip list in a bit plus brief overview of 800 special fic (it'll probably be genshin/hsr :3)

۪ ⠀✧ warnings. possessive behavior (kinich), jalosi /j, kinda ass/pussy eating (see to it however you like, i used no real specific term, reader is blindfolded for some parts, jealous behavior, rough sex, sex itself, y'all get walked in on (be ready for this to be implied into more of my kinich works LOL), establish relationship

"ahhn- kinich i said 'm sorry.. pleasef- slow down!" your face in the pillows, your words muffled and long gone into the night. the black-haired man's raspy voice spoke from behind— your boyfriend, kinich, of course. "he wasn't all that entertaining, why laugh like how you do with me?"

it was torture to him, seeing how it went from an awkward laugh, a polite smile, to a more genuine appearance to the stupid guy that just had to come up to you while he was busy getting a little snack for ajaw— even ajaw wouldn't comment on how his face looked this time, keeping his own silence as he ate the delicious candy.

"fffuck- he was an old classmate i had at the akademiya- 'm sorry, i-i really am kin-!" he almost laughed at your words. classmate? doesn't mean you should be playfully hitting shoulder like that. or teasing him like that. it's all his, no one else should be able to have it.

you shuddered, what felt like cumming again for the umpteenth time in a row, he hadn't stopped pinning you against the wall, and making you see stars over and over again ever since you saw your "classmate".

"doesn't matter." he groans, finishing inside you once more, your eyes were blindfolded by his headwear, previously on his forehead. he carries you onto the mattress, laying you down a little roughly. "w- what are you doing?"

you shivered once more, feeling warm exhales near your entrance, his cheek resting suddenly on one of your thighs. "all mine, right?" the blunt tone present in his tone definitely made it out as if you couldn't tell him anything other than yes (because it was true). his lips start to scatter a plethora of glossy little kisses all over your thighs, the sensation of getting him to cover every inch of your legs felt like a fever dream.. was this really a punishment?

you could feel his other hand snake to one of yours, which was somewhere on the bed. holding it tight as he started to place wet pecks over your hole. "hhnnn.. kin stop- ... stop teasing me.." you felt yourself moan into his touch, your other hand reaching out for wherever his head was. your fist grabbing at his hair, almost trying to push him into you further.

you felt him groan into you, you could sense he was whipped for your taste. the way you moaned his name. his.. name. "ahh- ahhh fffuck!— kin it's all yours, i promise!" his hand left yours, and stopped lapping at your hole for a moment- you heard a small grunt, and two things landing on the floor.. was he taking his gloves off?!

you could feel him sitting you up with one of his other hands, arms setting you down onto his face, arms locking around your thighs. straddling you over his mouth, as he started to devour what was his. no other guy could do this to you, not without making you feel as good as he did.

shit and he definitely did, the way he made you feel wasn't like the stupid losers who'd try to hook up with you back in the akademiya. or tried to pick you up in the streets. they can't make you feel turned on as much as you did when kinich blindfolded your eyes with something he doesn't usually take off and hear his belt buckle start to come off- ahhh nothing was better!

oh you felt yourself almost creaming on his face just thinking about it. not to mention how good he worked his tongue into you, definitely tasting every little bit, every little nook & cranny his tongue could reach.

he made a small sound, looking up to see you slowly riding his face as is, trying to rub yourself near against his nose. his authorative hold was more than enough to stop you from moving again, one of his palms moving over your stomach to feel the way his tongue moved inside you.

his head busily buried itself more into your scent, glossing his tongue so carefully, making sure you feel it. you started to feel something pool in your stomach- ssshit you were gonna cum again! your hands trail back down to his hair, gripping it harshly again, him seeing signs that you're close, he fastens his pace, licking as much as he could, no longer concentrating on the taste, more on your facial expression.

"ahhn- kin i'm g'na-!" "mmm there it is, such a good kitty." were the words he moaned into your hole, as he gladly lapped up every inch of your delicious juice/cum.

as he placed a kiss onto your entrance once more, he places more than just one kiss onto your lips, making out with you for a bit. letting him taste what he's been tasting for the past hour, the shared, mix of both of your cum.

your lips finally parting from his, your eyes still shut close 'till you feel a fist of your hair being gripped, "not done yet." is all kinich whispers, his voice a little coarse as he continues to kiss you. "all.. yours," you feel him take your hand, putting it over his heart while you both pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva being created. "and all mine, please?" he points to where your heart is in your chest.

his blunt attitude could only make you laugh, planting a kiss onto his head, and nodding to an agreement. "mmm- yeah. all yours."

"you guys are reaaaaaaalll corny! you're lucky i like your partner this time!" ajaw butts in as you laugh, while kinich simply scoffs- looking the other way and burying his face into your chest.

not as cool as my other works, and it's more cringe if i keep looking back on it, cute request tho !!!!<3333