#we got through an hour ish but it was just too much

[kirkinatorr]

i was totally right about saw fucking us up

[luveline]

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 

“I wanna see Max.” 

“She has to be here somewhere.” 

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 

Steve frowns at you worriedly. 

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Is it awful?” you ask. 

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 

“Dustin. He’s outside.” 

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?” 

“Like you like him.” 

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 

“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 

“He was touching you a lot.” 

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 

Oh, boy, you think. 

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 

“Steve.” 

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 

“What?” he asks. 

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?” 

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 

“I sounded weird?” 

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 

“You were in the way of the light.” 

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 

“It’s good.” 

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.” 

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 

“I thought…” And of course he did. 

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 

“I like you too!” he says loudly. 

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 

“You okay?” he asks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 

You nod vehemently. 

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.” 

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 

“You can be my parasol.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s a sun umbrella.” 

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 

“That’s perfect.” 

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 

“No… I’m thinking.” 

“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 

“It’s a question.” 

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke. 

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

[houseofwolvess]

riot fest was fun despite how poorly run it was (don't know if ill ever go back though lol), but damn, i do NOT miss going with my mom's friends all three days

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day eight.

Car Sex (1k words)

summary: Lando was eager to use his brand new car with you.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, stablished relationship, unprotected sex, public-ish sex.

Having a secret relationship with a Formula One driver meant having to sneak around even in the most private places; somehow, someone always managed to find him, but so far, you had been lucky.

There is no denying that it was a little annoying how hard it was sometimes to not even be able to have him come into your apartment building or come into his, since you were both worried someone would spot you leaving each other places, start a rumour, and have people even more interested in his love life than they already were, so sometimes, meeting somewhere to spend time together inside his car was the best option.

Like tonight. He had just come back from England and you knew he had to leave soon for the American triple header, so you needed to make the most of the time you had together before leaving again, even if it was just a few hours.

“I’ve missed you- so much,” Lando said in between kisses. He grinned when you straddled his lap. You struggled a bit, but when you finally managed, his hands immediately finding your hips.

“Yeah?” You asked, slightly moving your hips to create some friction, the action making him moan. “How much?”

“So much, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, softly biting at your lower lip. His hands explored your torso like he had never touched you before, thumbing at the soft flesh under your shirt.

“Really? You couldn’t stop thinking about me?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving your hips one more time.

“Mhm,” he hummed, “I can’t seem to get you off my mind, love.” You smiled at the pet name and leaned in for another kiss. It always got really heated really quick after he had been away for a while, and you loved to get him all worked up, to the point where he couldn’t keep himself from dragging your hips against him to intensify the pleasure. 

“I missed you too," you mumbled back against his lips that were slowly moving along his, keeping your hands on his hair. Lando occasionally travelled from under your shirt to your thighs, humming and moaning softly into the kiss until he allowed his hands to explore further down, finding the hem of your skirt. 

He teased you for a bit, but eventually he decided he needed to take you, to feel you. 

One of his long fingers sneaked past your underwear and into your soaked folds, making you slightly lift your hips to give him more acces. He smiled at this, loving how needy you were for him. Lando started rubbing your clit with his thumb while his middle finger teased your entrance.

At this point, you were a moaning mess as he worked to get you to an orgasm. “More,” was all you managed to say, and he happily complied, rubbing harder and faster as his finger slowly entered your hole. He was planning on making this quick, because the sooner you finished, the sooner he would get to be inside you.

His pace was desperate, and even more desperate were your moans, making Lando needier than he already was. He entered a second finger, and he knew it was over when you started to squeeze them hard. 

“Come for me, baby,” he said in a tone you could never get tired of. This really pushed you over the edge, because before you knew it, your orgasm finally hit you. “There we go.”

Lando slowed down as he helped you through your orgasm, and when you stopped moving, he quickly pulled his painful cock out of his trousers. 

You couldn’t help but look down, almost salivating at the way he gave it a few slow pumps before pushing your underwear to the side again and running his head through your folds to coat it in your juices. This made you hiss, but God, you were dying to have him inside you. 

A loud moan scaped both your mouths when you started to sit on him, fully taking him in, and as soon as he was deep inside you, he took your hips to lift you up and then made you go down again. You tried to set a pace for the both of you, but the small car made it harder than you were expecting.

“You couldn’t have brought a flashier car?” You told him, trying to ride him in the very limited space.

“No, this car is perfect for this.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, knowing you couldn’t expect anything less from him, but that eye roll was quickly replaced by one full of pleasure when he hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“See? You are still enjoying it.”

“Shut up.”

Lando continued gripping at your hips, helping you move as he thrusted up to meet you half way so you wouldn’t have to do all the work alone.

The car was hot and the windows were foggy, his Ferrari F40 bouncing with the intensity of your own movements. If anyone drove past you, they would know exactly what was going on. But honestly, neither of you could care less about that; you were just chasing that so-close release.

You would never admit it, but you did find the situation kinda hot, and maybe it was just that you hadn’t been intimate in a while, but you already found yourself with the feeling on your tummy about to snap. 

“‘m close,” you whimpered, and he was so lost in pleasure he just let out a ‘uh huh’ before intensifying his motions. You knew he was close too, so you started devouring his neck just the way he liked. 

A few more thrusts, and he was already there, the warm feeling of him inside you making you come just seconds later. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to come down from your high, and once you fully caught your breath, you carefully went back to your seat, sitting on his hoodie so you wouldn't stain his new car. 

His jeans, on the other hand, were a complete mess. You could see your juices mixed with his own, trying hard to contain your laughter as he visibly worried about how he would get into his apartment looking like that.

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ｔｅａｓｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: dom!boyfriend!bang chan x sub!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluff

♡ Summary: Lately your boyfriend's been spending a bit too much time with his friends and you're beginning to feel ignored so you decide that you'll get his attention by any means necessary. But are you really willing to go through with it and how will Chan react when he realizes exactly what you're up to?

♡ Word Count: 3.3k-ish

♡ Warnings: dom/sub dynamic, jealousy, pet names (baby, good girl, bad girl), kissing, manhandling, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, fingering, spanking, thigh slapping, dirty talk, Chan has a kink for you watching him, and that should be all my darlings.

♡ A/N: I received an anon request for some dom Channie vibes of this variety so here we are. As always, I really hope that I did a good job with this and yes my inbox is indeed open to requests or just stopping by to say hello. Anyway, let me hush up. Hope ya'll enjoy it, babes 💜

You aren’t a brat.

Okay, maybe you are just a little bit, but that doesn’t mean that your frustration with Chan isn’t justified. You get it. His friends are important to him. The time that he spends with them is sacred and you’d never want to do anything to get in the way of that. Chan’s always been good at keeping the balance, hanging with his friends without cutting into how much attention he gives you. But lately that balance has been severely lacking and you can’t help but feel neglected.

With everyone’s schedules opening up, the guys coming over once or twice a week has turned into a nightly event, hardly leaving space for the romance you’re accustomed to. You’ve tried to drop a few hints here and there that you’d like more alone time with him but it seems to fall on deaf ears. Exhausted with trying a gentler approach, you’ve cooked up another way to grab his attention. 

You aren’t a brat. 

Okay, maybe you are, more than a little bit, but that doesn’t mean that what you’re about to do to Chan isn’t justified. 

“Babe, could you bring me a glass of water?” Chan shouts over his shoulder, fingers tapping away at his laptop. 

He’d usually get up and get it for himself but he’s too in the zone for that tonight. This is how he gets when he’s working on a song. He spends hours in the bedroom, glued to his desk, frying his retinas with the computer screen. 

“Of course, Channie! One sec!” you shout back, your voice sweet enough to make him crack a faint smile. You’re always there for him, always so willing to help with even the smallest tasks. He wonders how he got a girl like you. A sweetheart to the core. 

The pitter patter of your feet trails down the hallway and you’re right over his shoulder, setting an ice cold glass of water down on the table for him. “Nice and cold for you” you smile, rustling his messy brown hair. 

Without looking, Chan rubs your arm, leaning his head against your soft belly, “Thank you, baby. Oh, before I forget, Bin and Han are coming over tonight. They should be here in, hmm, an hour. Could you just let them in when they get here?”

“That’s totally not a problem. I’ll let them right in” you say, gracing him with a kiss on the top of the head before heading back for the kitchen. Chan’s brain automatically shifts back to the task at hand, determined to apply the last few tweaks to the song before he plays it for the guys. 

Stopping yourself before you hit the doorway you turn on your heels, smiling from ear to ear, “Hey, baby, I was gonna order a pizza. Can I grab your card real quick?”

“Hmm?” he asks, processing your request on a delay, “Uh, of course, here.” 

Fishing his wallet from the pocket of his sweatpants, he turns to hand it to you and sees something that makes his heart stop. You’re naked. Not fully naked but in his eyes you might as well be. You’re standing in the doorway with the most innocent smile on your face and the skimpiest clothes he’s ever seen you in. 

You’re rocking a pair of skin tight shorts that ride your hips deliciously, nearly choking your plush thighs. They’re riding up high enough that there’s simply no way you have panties on underneath them and you definitely don’t.

The crop top you’ve got on barely constitutes a shirt. It’s more of a thin strip of material covering your bare tits, placing your perky nipples at serious risk of popping out. And you’re standing there like it’s nothing, your fluffy breasts nearly bouncing out of your crop top as you skip over to grab his wallet. 

His gaze dances over you with a seriousness that has the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “Did you plan on changing or…”

“Changing?” you laugh, filing through his wallet to find his credit card, “Why would I change? Bin and Han basically live here at this point. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

At last getting your hands on his card, you toss the wallet back into his lap and turn to leave but he grabs for you wrist. “You need to change…now” he commands, his jaw tightening. Why you’re acting so oblivious is beyond him but the clock is ticking on his friends’ arrival and he’s in no mood for games. Whatever your issue is you need to get over it quickly before his patience runs out. 

“Why should I?” you snap, snatching your arm free of his grasp. The next thing that comes out of your mouth is purely out of bitterness. It shouldn’t be said, you know it the moment you taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but by the time you realize your mistake it’s too late. “Just because you don’t want me anymore doesn’t mean someone else won’t.” 

The laptop slams shut, almost making you jump out of your skin. Chan rises to face you, the gentle brown of his eyes darkening as he backs you into the bed. “What did you say?”

“I said that…I said…nothing. I said nothing” you stutter, instantly feeling much less confident in your plan. 

“You said ‘Just because you don’t want me anymore’” he repeats, nearly choking on the words himself, “Why would you say that? Why would you ever think for a moment that I don’t want you?”

“Because you barely touch me anymore” you sigh, flopping down on the edge of the bed. You almost crumble at your own admission, hugging yourself for comfort. “Most days you’re too busy on your laptop or with your friends to even look at me and it makes me feel, I don’t know, like you don’t want me anymore.” 

Chan kneels down in front of you, taking your hands into his, and you can feel the tension in the room soften. Ignoring you was never his intention. The knowledge that you ever felt unwanted is like a bullet to the heart. He’d gotten so swept up in everything else that he took for granted the fact that you’re always there, right by his side. A mistake he regrets more than anything as he watches tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I do want you. I’ll always want you” he swears, staring into your eyes so that you feel every single word he says. “I love you. You know that, yeah?”

You nod, knowing that, even if he can be annoying, Chan would never bullshit you. That isn’t who he is. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

Chan drops down to his knees, palms clasped together in flawless begging formation, “So give me a chance to make this right, please?” He pokes out his bottom lip, making big brown puppy dog eyes, “Pretty please?”

It’s impossible not to giggle at how cute he is. Only a few minutes ago you were pissed enough to bite his head off, now all you want to do is kiss him. You hate how you can never stay mad at this man but deep down inside you never wanted to be. You only wanted him. 

“Ugh, fine” you huff, arms folded across your chest, “But don’t let it happen again, okay?”

Chan inches towards you, his poked out bottom lip ghosting yours, “It will never happen again. Cross my heart. Can I get a smile?”

“No” you refuse, turning your attention to the art on the walls or anything else in the room to distract you from the way that handsome face turns you into a pool of jelly. 

“No? You sure?” he asks, pressing his full rosy lips to your neck. That first point of contact gives you goosebumps and you quiver in spite of yourself. Chan kisses his way up your neck, his lips so feathery against your skin that it tickles, shaking that smile right out of you.

Chan wraps his arms around you, biceps flexing as he brings you in closer, “There she is. There’s my girl.”

“Not fair. You cheated” you giggle, wiggling in his grasp. Your attempt at getting away is half hearted at best. You’re right where you want to be. 

Chan sprinkles kisses all over your face. Your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, until you’re all wet with kisses and reduced to a giggling mess. 

“Oh, wait, I’ve gotta text the guys” he gasps, abruptly rushing back over to the desk and picking his phone up. For a fleeting moment you feel deflated. An entire conversation and his friends are still the first thing on his mind. But as he turns around your fears are immediately put to rest.

“I told them not to come,” he says, tucking his phone into one of the drawers. 

You perk up, giddy with joy, “Wait, are you serious?” 

Chan hovers over you, taking your squishy cheeks into the palms of his hands. “Of course I am, baby” he coos, beaming down at you, “I can see them whenever but tonight I wanna be with you. I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner.”

“Dinner? Ooh, I have the perfect dress!” You’re ready to rush to the closet and throw together a quick outfit but Chan gently pushes you back down onto the bed, refusing to move an inch out of your way. 

There’s a fire in his gaze, like a starving animal who just spotted the most delectable prey. “Were you really gonna wear that in front of them tonight?”

You sit in silence, calculating the answer in your head before you slip up again and say the wrong thing. Technically you hadn’t thought the plan through that far. Would you have actually done it? 

“I just wanted to make you a little jealous.” 

“Make me jealous when you could’ve just talked to me? That’s not what good girls do, is it?” he scolds, his voice low and stern as he brushes the hair away from your face. Tension floods the room once more, putting you back on edge. He strokes your cheek, tracing it with his thumb, “I want you to lay back.”

“But I…” you stutter, fighting to explain yourself. 

Chan leans down, kissing you hungrily, his tongue darting into your mouth to perform a delicate dance with yours. “I said lay back, don’t make me ask again, okay?”

His aggression causes heat to pulse through you, pooling right between your thighs. Not daring to make him ask again, you lay back, propped up on your elbows as you slip all the way back on the bed. Chan watches you closely, on the verge of salivating at how your eager breasts bounce with every movement. “Spread your legs.” 

At last you have a definite answer to his question. Were you really gonna wear that tonight? Hell no. How could you wear something like this in front of Bin and Han when you’re dying of shyness in front of a man who's seen you naked a thousand times?

Heart racing, you do as you’re told, bending your knees and spreading your legs open for him. The cool air in the room blows against your core, confirming what you already know. You’re wet, dripping all over these brand new shorts. Chan kneels between your legs, fingers pressing into the fat of your thighs to spread you wider. He licks his lips, a subconscious reaction to seeing the imprint of your perfect pussy lips through the thin material that only gets wetter the more he stares.

Your face is too pretty and innocent for a girl intent on being this slutty. It’s a dynamic that has his cock stiffening behind those black sweatpants. You have no idea the restraint it takes not to drag you to the edge of the bed and fuck you. Everything inside of him is saying to devour you but he needs to play with his food a little bit more first. 

“I need you to give me a real answer, baby” he whispers, hooking two fingers beneath the material covering your soaked entrance. He drags his knuckles lightly along your slit and they glide smoothly through your arousal, teasing your twitching core. You throw your head back, pouting cutely as you squeeze your thighs together, desperate for more of that tingling sensation. 

Chan forces your legs back open, a palm coming down on your inner thigh, slapping it harshly. “Look at me.”

You wince at the pain, loving it at the same time, and pop your head up to regain eye contact. You can feel your nipples grow rigid, peeking out enough to glimpse as your crop top rides up. 

“You aren’t to ever take your eyes off of me. Understood?” Chan says, dragging his knuckles up to brush your tender clit. 

“I…I understand” you whine, nails raking the sheets, pleasure rippling through you. 

Spreading his fingers, Chan scissors them around your clit, smearing your slick through the warmth of your folds. “Now tell me, were you gonna walk around dressed like this all night?” he asks, rolling your clit between his fingers. The whimpers you let out only encourage him to put more pressure on your clit, the arousal visibly trickling from your core and onto the sheets. 

“You were gonna flash them this pretty little cunt, hmm? I thought it was all mine” he says, feigning disappointment. He drags his fingers back down to your entrance, slowly easing them into you until your body’s purring. 

“It’s yours. All yours” you moan, biting down on your lip. Your walls are so greedy, eating those fingers right up. It’s been weeks since you felt his touch and it’s nothing short of ecstasy to have his hands on you. Inside of you. You arch your back and your tits pop right out of your top, jiggling sensually as he works you with his fingers. 

Chan kisses the inside of your knee, bringing his thumb up to toy with your clit again, “Louder for me, baby. Tell me who you belong to.” He curls his fingers against your cushy walls, his fingertips tapping at your sweet spot. Your body just wants to collapse and let him toy with your needy pussy as much as he wants but you remember the rules. Your eyes are never to leave him. Ever. 

“I belong to you, Channie! I’m yours!” you cry out as he picks up the pace, the veins in his arm becoming all the more defined by the force he uses to drive his fingers into your core. Resting your foot on his thigh, you inch over to rub his bulge and he groans, his eyes ready to roll back in his head. He thanks the heavens that his sweatpants are black otherwise you’d have known how hard you had him ages ago. 

“What’s mine?” he asks, nearly falling off rhythm from how well you tease his cock. All of the blood rushes from his head to his cock, pushing the band of his sweatpants to its limit. 

You clench around his fingers, shifting your hips down further to grind against his hand, “This pussy is yours, Channie. I want you to take it.” Your voice is the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. It’s dripping with enough need that he can’t deny you.

Chan dives face first between your thighs, tearing the flimsy shorts right off of you, and taking a mouthful of your cunt. The slurping sounds are borderline insane. You’re sticky and sweet coating his tongue, nice and warm as you slip down his throat. You squirm beneath him, burying your fingers in his hair, crying out his name as he laps at your pussy.

You do your best, try your absolute hardest, not to look away from him but you can’t keep your eyes from clenching closed. It’s been so long, it feels so fucking good. You’re barely holding onto your sanity let alone maintaining control over your body. 

Chan tilts his head up, suckling at your clit, “I guess we don’t wanna listen tonight.” He pulls his mouth away, releasing your clit with a pop. 

“Noooo” you whine at the loss, forcing your teary eyes back open, “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t” he sympathizes, rising from the bed to shed his clothing. If there were ever a moment you took your eyes off of him it definitely wouldn’t be now. You didn’t think you could get wetter but seeing your boyfriend standing there naked—muscles on full display, swollen cock dripping arousal between your feet—proves you wrong.

Chan grabs you by the ankles, dragging you right to the edge of the bed, “You just need a little help, that’s all.”

Sandwiching himself between your legs, he aligns the tip with your entrance and grabs you by the chin, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips poke out a tiny bit. “So fucking pretty” he hisses, shuddering at how tight you are when he pops the tip in.

You let out a moan that borders on a whimper and he grins, thrusting into you hard enough that your whole body jiggles from the force. Your eyes squeeze shut and he slaps you on the ass, “Stay with me, baby. I want you to watch what happens to girls who try to make their boyfriends jealous.” 

He dips his hips down, switching to an angle even more lethal, and thrusts into you harder this time, bottoming out. Your lids shoot open, glossy eyes wide open as he drills into you. Every stroke of his cock between your gushing walls is like an art, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel so fucking good” he hums, his free hand reaching between your legs to pet your cunt. “I’ll always want you. Always want this gorgeous face and…fuck…this pussy.” 

His grip on your face is so tight that your words come out jumbled, only breathy moans escaping your lips. He’s so deep inside of you that you’d swear you could feel it in your stomach, right there where all the tension’s building. Your mind’s spinning, core spasming around his cock. You’re fucked out already, your lids growing heavier and almost closing. Just almost. But you force them back open, taking his cock and following instructions like a…

“Good girl” he coos, rubbing your clit faster and faster. Your body jerks, your hands clasping around his arm, and he knows you’re close. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you gush around this cock.” 

Chan lets go of your face, grabbing your plush hips to keep you in place, hips snapping in rhythm with your broken moans. He leans in to plant sloppy open mouthed kisses between your breasts, capturing your mouth with his.

“Channie, I’m…I’m…” you gasp, losing your words as a wave of heat washes over you, leaving you creaming down his length, his thickness stretching your walls to the brink. 

Chan snakes his fingers into your hair, forcing you to stick to your word. He watches your eyes as they light up at the release, fighting to stay open then widening again when he spills into you, swelling you up with his cum.

He keeps you just like this, staring into your eyes until you can’t take it anymore and your head falls back in surrender. Rolling off of you, he cuddles up beside you, both of you high enough that you’re floating. 

“You’re my favorite person in the world” he says, kissing you sweetly. 

“You’re mine too." You crack a weak smile against his lips, “Soooo, did you still wanna grab something to eat?”

“I mean, I already ate” he grins, dipping a finger into your lingering wetness and licking it off, “But I could go for some more.”

[satorusluver]

Dilf!Toji x college student!reader

Word count: 800 ish

Tags: smut (MDNI), slight fluff, fem reader, age difference, p in v, mating press, doggy style, mild degradation

A/N: I can't get dilf college au Toji out of my mind so....

Although it had been a couple of years since his wife died, Toji hadn't had the time to date. He was too busy balancing his work and single fatherhood, especially now that he was going back to school. Instead, he settled for the occasional dating app hookup to get his needs met. Until he met you.

You had to be what, ten, twelve years his junior? But you were a pretty little thing, and no matter how much you tried to hide it, you practically drooled over your older dilf classmate. Toji didn't miss the way you eyed him every time he walked into class, or how easily you would get flustered with just a bit of flirting on his part. Toji didn't have time to date, no, but that didn't mean the two of you couldn't come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.

After all, Megumi often needed a babysitter on nights Toji worked overtime. Toji was quite up front with you about it -you watch his son for a couple of hours until he got home from work, and in return Toji would reward you with a crisp twenty and by folding you in half like a lawn chair on his bed and pounding your cervix with the fat, precum-dripping head of his eight inch dick until you soaked his sheets with your cum.

"Oh, fuck, To-oji!" you cry, your orgasm rocking through you as your messy cunt squirted all over Toji's wide girth. He loved seeing you like this, your knees against your chest and your eyes rolled back in bliss as he fucked you completely dumb on his cock. And Toji, well, he had quite the mouth on him in the heat of the moment, something which he'd warned you about ahead of time.

"Atta girl, don't gotta fuckin' think, do you? Just gotta cum for me. Ohh fuck, that little pussy's squeezin' me so tight," he huffs, leaning his massive, muscled form over you to achieve an even deeper angle as he fucks into you harshly. The overstimulation of him hitting that spongy spot inside you so hard makes your toes curl and your body arch into him, unable to get enough even if it's too much.

"What're you even in college for, princess? We both know your real job is taking my dick. You should just quit and become Megumi's stepmother so I can fuck you this good every night. Wouldn't you like that, princess? Hungry little cockslut that you are, practically beggin' for my dick the moment I walked in the door." But instead of answering him, you slap a hand over your mouth to keep your sobs of pleasure from being heard by Megumi, who was currently watching cartoons just down the hall.

You both knew it was his dick talking, that he didn't really mean it, but when he was balls deep in your sweet, tight heat and your needy little cunt was sucking him back in with every thrust, he'd utter things he'd never otherwise dare.

"Fuuuck yeah, wouldn't mind coming home to this everyday, having this pretty little pussy waiting for me." As he speaks, he reaches his hands down to gently spread your pussy lips with his thumbs, getting a good look at your puffy pink folds and swollen clit that glisten with your mixed juices.

You'd never admit it to him, he was cocky enough already, but you think his dick might've spoiled you for all other men. He was by far bigger than any of your exes, and far more experienced thanks to his age. The ease with which he managed to find your g-spot never ceased to amaze you, and not one time have you had sex with him without him getting you off at least twice.

As the semester dragged on, you kept coming back for more. One night after a shitty first date you show up to his house all dolled up and holding back tears after your date went to the bathroom and never came back, and it's mere minutes before he's ruining your so carefully done makeup by shoving your face into his pillowcase and fucking the melancholy from your failed date right out of you.

"He was a fuckin' dumbass, that guy," Toji says as the two of lie next to each other in the afterglow. "Leavin' a girl like you alone like that. If I took you out, I'd show you a good time...well, I just did show you a good time," he adds with a chuckle.

"But you know what I mean. If...if you were up for that..." he mumbles, nervously scratching the back of his dark, now disheveled hair.

"I thought you didn't have time to date?" you ask him, although your tone is light and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Yeah, well, for you...maybe I do."

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Old tricks - P2

A/N: Remember this teeeny tiny fic that got so much love? Well, here’s a spontaneous sequel! Enjoy, my lovelies!

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut-ish, fluff, humour.

Find Part 1 here 🌼

.

Sashaying your hips for effect, you looked over your shoulder to see your husband hot on your trail.

“Y/N, please…” his voice held a desperation, one that made you believe you’d won, yet again. Not that he’d admit it ever, but Tony was grateful for these distractions. Though his body screamed for rest, it was that genius mind that raced a mile a minute.

“Ah begging already? I thought I’d have to tease you a bit before we got there..” you smirked, catching your discarded robe which Tony playfully threw back at you.

“Minx..”

“Hey whatever it takes to bring you to bed! Plus it worked, so I’m winning here.”

Shrugging it back on, you made your way up the stairs towards your bedroom, threading your fingers through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Pretty sure I’m the one who won here, sweetheart.” Tony smacked your robe covered butt before pulling you back against his chest, making you squeal as he picked you up effortlessly.

Kicking the bedroom door close with his foot, he gently laid you down, quick to settle between your legs as his eyes gazed down at you with nothing but love.

“What?” You asked, letting your fingers mindlessly twiddle with his hair.

“I just love you, so much. I hope you know that, Mrs. Stark.”

His earnestly took you aback, a smile appearing on your face before he leaned down to catch your lips in a searing kiss. Squeezing your sides, he poured every bit of adoration in the kiss, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before you offered permission for it to slide in.

Heat began pooling between your legs as the kiss took a passionate turn; nudging his shoulder, you rolled on top of him, never breaking contact. Tony’s hands gripped your hips as you gave them a grind, feeling his cock twitch beneath you.

“So, about those old tricks..” he gave you his winning grin, attempting you catch your lips with his again but you didn’t let him.

“Oh right, I’m all prepared for it. You better sit back and watch.”

“Wait—what?”

His frown was rather cute as you reached over to grab a toy he’d made for you long back, brandishing it in your hands with a wicked smile of your own.

“What? You need to catch up on some sleep, dear husband. Also, you’ve left me all to myself too much for me to just let you have your way.”

He simply blinked in disbelief, opening and closing his mouth without actually saying anything. You giggled as you rolled your hips ever so seductively, making Tony grunt before he flipped you again and pinned you under him.

“You just love being a fucking tease, don’t you?” He growled, attacking your neck with kisses that made your resolve wither away with every passing second.

“You love it too.” You voiced quietly, letting a moan escape as his mouth hit the spot between your shoulder and neck.

“Yeah I do. I really, really do. But for now, let me make you a deal.” He murmured against your skin, discarding your robe once again before peeling off his sweater and adding it to the pile.

“What kind of a deal?”

“Every orgasm I draw out of you tonight equals an hour of sleep for me. What do you say?”

It was one hell of a deal. Given how sleep deprived he was, you wouldn’t settle for anything less than eight, he knew that.

“Looks like you’ve got quite the task ahead of you, Mister Stark. Better get to work.” You teased, feeling his fingers inch their way towards your entrance to find your clit. Gasping softly, you moved your hips to gain more friction.

“I haven’t specified how and when of that deal, dear missus. You’re not the only one with good old tricks up their sleeve. We’ve got all night…” he smirked, watching your lips part as his thumb brushed against your bundle of nerves teasingly.

“Oh fuck you, Stark.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

It was clear you had a long night ahead of you. But one thing was for sure, Tony Stark simply wasn’t built to resist you. And neither were you.

Well, Part 3 is up too 💁🏻‍♀️

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 13

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU (soon-ish????)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: None yet lol

A/N: Yall we have bucky meeting dean next 👀👀👀👀

Masterpost

Bucky tossed his keys onto the counter, the familiar metallic clink echoing through the silent apartment. The quiet settled over him like a heavy blanket, oppressive and suffocating. The faint hum of the fridge and the soft ticking of the wall clock were the only sounds, filling the space where your laughter or the shuffle of your footsteps used to be. His eyes instinctively flicked to the small ceramic bowl by the door—the one he’d made you for your birthday last year, glazed in your favorite colors.

Empty.

His chest tightened. You’d been home.

He let out a slow, uneven breath, running a hand through his hair, the motion doing little to ease the tension coiled in his shoulders. Of course, you’d come back at some point. You lived here too. And yet, seeing the empty bowl still sent a pang of something sharp through his chest.

He knew your shifts had been just out of sync with his, making it easy to avoid each other. And while the rational part of him told him this was a good thing—that you both needed space to cool off— but the last time you and him went this long without communicating or seeing each other was the first 5 years of your lives when you hadn't met yet, even your first big fight in high school only lasted 48 hours, yet another part of him, the part that constantly replayed the fight in his head, hated it.

God, he hated it.

He hated himself.

The weight of your absence was everywhere: in the way your bedroom door remained firmly closed, where it was usually freely open, in the lingering smell of your favorite shampoo that still clung to the bathroom, in the faint indent your slippers left by the couch. You were avoiding him, and he couldn’t blame you. Hell, he was avoiding you too.

He sighed deeply, pulling his phone from his pocket when it buzzed. He lingered on his home screen of the photo of him and you. His thumb swiped across the screen, his heart sinking slightly when he saw the message from Sam.

Sam: Still no word from Nat?

Bucky: Not since that Friday. She’s still pissed, I guess.

Sam: Yeah, well… you’re lucky Y/N didn’t tell her to throw your stuff out the window.

Bucky huffed a humorless laugh, shaking his head as he typed his reply.

Bucky: Wouldn’t blame her if she did.

He stared at the screen, the soft glow illuminating his tired features. He could practically hear Natasha’s voice in his head, ripping into him with every creative insult she could muster. And, honestly? She’d be right. He was a dick. An asshole. Every name in the book and that was being kind.

But what hurt more was knowing that even now, even after everything, you were probably still defending him. You always did. You always had his back, no matter how much he screwed up. It was one of the things he both loved and hated about you—your loyalty, your unwavering faith in him. And that only made him feel worse.

Because this time? He didn’t deserve it.

With a frustrated sigh, he pocketed his phone and trudged toward his room, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. The night stretched ahead of him, and all he could think about was the looming “great date” with Kate.

He should feel something—excitement, anticipation, maybe even relief at the prospect of a distraction. But all he felt was dread, a gnawing pit in his stomach that only seemed to grow the closer it got to 5 p.m.

Kate deserved better than this.

So did you.

He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his face with his hands. His mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts, each one louder than the last. He knew what he had to do, what he should’ve done weeks ago. He shouldn't even have gotten more involved with someone else while his feelings were all over the place and his heart always was with you. But every time he thought about it, about ending things with Kate, his thoughts circled back to you.

What would you think? Would you even care? You never did before, did you? There was times in high school when he would see a slight sadness in your eyes when he was another girl and because of that he never let things get too serious with any of them, and it wasn't your fault directly he knew that, he was the one making the decision because in the end he would always chose you over them, and they eventually always gave him a 'You cant have a girl as your best friend!' 'Look at the way she looks at you!' 'Its her or me Bucky!'

Bucky leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. He had to get his shit together, had to figure out how to fix this mess he’d made. But first, he had to get through tonight.

--

The restaurant was warm, the low buzz of conversation filling the air as Bucky sat across from Kate. She looked beautiful, her dark hair falling in soft waves, a kind smile on her face. She’d dressed up for the occasion, wearing a sleek black dress that made her look effortlessly elegant.

“Glad we could finally make this work,” Kate said, her voice light as she sipped her wine. “We’ve both been so busy.”

Bucky forced a smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s nice to… slow down for a bit.”

Kate smiled, leaning on her hand as she studied him. “You seem distracted, though. Long day?”

“Something like that,” Bucky muttered, swirling his own glass of wine.

The truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wondering if you were still upset, replaying every moment of the fight in his head, the look on your face when you left. And then there was the matter of Kate.

Kate was kind. She was sweet, funny, and easy to be around. But she wasn’t you. God, no one would ever be you.

She didn’t make his heart race with just a glance. She didn’t know every little quirk about him, like how he always needed coffee first thing in the morning before uttering a single syllable or how he secretly loved old noir films. How he had a secret vendetta against green m&m's because he almost choked on one as a kid and hasn't touched one since, how he preferred Hockey over Football but he would never tell Steve or Sam that. She wasn’t the one he imagined sharing his life with, that had always been you, even when things were messy, it was still you.

“Bucky?” Kate’s voice brought him back to the present, her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said quickly, straightening up. “Just… a lot on my mind.”

Kate gave him a small, understanding smile. “You’ve been off since you picked me up. If something’s going on, you can tell me.”

Bucky hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He knew he couldn’t keep stringing her along—it wasn’t fair to either of them.

He leaned forward, setting his glass down. “Kate… I need to be honest with you.”

Her smile faltered slightly, but she nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“You’re great,” Bucky started, his voice soft but firm. “You’re smart, funny, your beautiful, perfect really and anyone would be lucky to be with you. But… my heart’s not in this.”

Kate’s expression softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes, but she didn’t look surprised. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Bucky’s stomach twisted. He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Kate took a deep breath, her lips pressing into a thin line before she gave him a small, bittersweet smile. “I figured as much. You’ve been… somewhere else this whole time.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, his voice low. “You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart. And that’s not me.”

Kate reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on his. “Thank you for being honest. It sucks, but… I get it. I think I knew deep down this was coming.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Kate…”

She shook her head, a soft smile on her face despite the tears threatening to spill. “No, it’s okay. Really. It hurts don't get me wrong, but I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Bucky. You’ve always been kind, even if you’ve been distracted.”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on. “Honestly, I’m glad this happened now, before I got in too deep. I could see it from the start, you know? The way you look at her… and the way she looks at you.”

Bucky blinked, his heart clenching. “Kate—”

“I hope it works out between you two,” she interrupted gently. “You clearly care about each other. And even though it’s not what I wanted for us, I’m glad you told me now instead of dragging it out.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words lingering between them. Finally, Kate withdrew her hand, giving him a nod. “Take care of yourself, Bucky. And… I hope she knows how lucky she is.”

Bucky’s throat tightened, but he managed to say, “Thanks, Kate.”

As she stood to leave, Bucky watched her go, a mix of relief and guilt washing over him. He had ended things with her, but now he was left with the harder task: facing you.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his messages until he found Sam’s text thread again.

Bucky: It’s done. I ended it.

Sam: Finally. Now, what’s your plan with Y/N?

Bucky stared at the screen for a long moment, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. What was his plan? All he knew was that he couldn’t avoid you any longer.

High school - Junior Year

The bleachers creaked beneath you as you shifted, pulling your hoodie tighter around you against the crisp autumn air. The Friday night lights cast a golden glow over the football field, illuminating the players as they huddled together, the crowd buzzing with energy. But your attention wasn’t on the game—it was on the boy sitting next to you.

Bucky, with his ever-present leather jacket slung over his hoodie, was leaning back against the bleachers, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were soft tonight, lazily following the movement on the field.

“You’re not even watching the game,” you teased, nudging his arm with your elbow.

Bucky smirked, tilting his head to look at you. “And you are?”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I’m here for moral support. Steve’s playing, remember?”

“Ah, right,” Bucky said, nodding solemnly. “Go team.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the noise of the game fading into the background as the chilly breeze swept through the bleachers.

Bucky leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “You cold?”

You shrugged, even though you were. “I’m fine.”

Without a word, Bucky shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“Bucky, I’m fine,” you protested, but you didn’t make a move to take it off. The warmth and the familiar scent of leather and something distinctly him were too comforting.

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I’ve got a built-in heater.” He flexed his arms, grinning. “These guns.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” he shot back, his voice teasing but soft.

Your heart did a little flip, and you ducked your head, hoping he didn’t notice the heat rising to your cheeks.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement as Steve jogged past the bleachers, heading toward the sideline. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes flicking between you and Bucky. He offered a quick wave before disappearing back into the game.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking as he nudged your shoulder. “You see that?”

“See what?” you asked, confused.

“The way Steve was looking over here,” Bucky said, his smirk widening as he leaned back against the bleachers. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s got a little crush.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Steve? Please.”

But Bucky wasn’t done. When Steve came jogging back after the next play, Bucky waved him over, his grin turning mischievous. “Hey, Rogers!”

Steve looked slightly hesitant but made his way over, catching his breath. “What’s up?”

Bucky nudged him playfully. “You’ve been sneaking glances over here all night. Something you wanna share with the class?”

Steve’s face turned a little red, and he quickly shook his head. “Yeah, right, Buck,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Bucky laughed, giving him a light shove. “Relax, man. Just saying, if you’ve got a crush, you’ve got good taste.”

Steve shot him a look, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “You’re impossible,” he muttered before heading back to the field.

You watched him go, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity. “You’re such a troublemaker.”

“Hey, it’s my job,” Bucky said, leaning in close, his voice low. “Besides, he totally does.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened as Bucky’s arm brushed yours. “You’re imagining things.”

“Maybe,” Bucky said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “Maybe not.”

The air between you felt charged again, like it had earlier. But before you could say anything, the crowd erupted in cheers, breaking the moment. Steve had scored, and the entire crowd was on its feet, clapping and shouting.

“Atta boy, Steve!” Bucky cheered, clapping lazily.

You joined in, your heart still racing, but the spell was broken. The unspoken tension hung in the air, unacknowledged but palpable.

As the night wore on, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Bucky, wondering what might have happened if the game hadn’t interrupted.

Thursday Night

The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of your playlist as you sat at your vanity, carefully applying the final touches of makeup for your date with Dean. It had been a whirlwind week—four dates in five days—and each one had been incredible. Dean was sweet, funny, and attentive. Every moment with him felt easy, light.

But even as you smiled at the thought of him, a familiar ache tugged at your chest. You missed Bucky. You missed Natasha. Sure, you’d been talking to Wanda, Sam, and especially Steve, but it wasn’t the same. Natasha was your person, your closest confidante. And Bucky? Well, Bucky was Bucky.

Steve had been your rock through everything lately, always ready with a kind word or a listening ear. But even with his unwavering support, you’d noticed something different in him recently—a lingering sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was just weariness. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were burdening him with all your baggage. So, you’d started keeping things to yourself.

Like the kiss.

Your first kiss with Dean had been sweet, gentle, and everything a first kiss should be. But even in that perfect moment, your mind had wandered back to Bucky’s kiss in college—deep, passionate, and all-consuming. You shook your head, trying to push the thought away.

You were determined to move on.

Your heart skipped a beat. Before you could decide how to feel, there was a knock at the door.

Your phone buzzed with a message, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen:

Natasha: It’s me.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it. Natasha stood there, her usual confidence softened by something more vulnerable. Without a word, she stepped inside, her eyes locking onto yours.

“I love you,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “I miss you. And I hate having to hear about your dates from Dean at work, pretending like i know already. I can’t stand it. I want to hear about them from you.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha continued, pacing slightly. “But I just hate seeing you sad. And yes, I’ve been mad at Bucky, but I know he’s not some horrible person. I understand his side too. Please, let’s just forget about it all, okay?”

Her words hit you like a wave, and you felt the weight of the past few days lift slightly. A small smile crept onto your face.

“Dean and I kissed,” you said, your voice light.

Natasha’s eyes widened, and she gasped dramatically. “Wait, what? No way, your kidding?" She paused looking you up and down, her eyes widening further "Are you seeing him again tonight?!”

You laughed, nodding "This will be 5 times this week.”

“Oh my god!! I’m so proud of you!” Natasha squealed, grabbing your hands.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m trying.”

Natasha grinned but then paused, her expression growing serious. “I heard you haven’t seen or talked to Bucky yet, this has been the longest since--"

Your smile faded "High School" You finished nodding. “No. I’ve been… avoiding him.”

She bit her lip, then hesitated before speaking again. “He broke up with Kate.”

You froze. “What?”

Natasha nodded, her voice gentle. “I just think you need all the information. Whatever you want to do with it is up to you. But I’ll always support you, no matter what.”

You stared at her, your thoughts spinning. Bucky had ended things with Kate? You’d spent the past few days convincing yourself that moving on with Dean was the right path, but now… everything felt complicated again.

Natasha squeezed your hand. “Take your time. Figure out what you want. Ill be here for anything and everything, okay?”

You nodded slowly, her words sinking in as you tried to steady your racing heart.

The elevator ride down to the lobby was a blur, your heart still racing from Natasha’s revelation. By the time you stepped out onto the street, you’d pushed the thought of Bucky breaking up with Kate to the back of your mind. Tonight wasn’t about him; it was about Dean.

You spotted him immediately, leaning casually against his car, dressed in a dark button-down that hugged his frame perfectly. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and he pushed off the car, meeting you halfway.

“Wow,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you. “You look incredible, you always do"

You smiled, feeling a slight heat creep up your neck. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Dean grinned, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You linked your arm with his, and he led you to the car, opening the door with a flourish. “Such a gentleman,” you teased as you slid into the passenger seat.

“Only the best for you,” he replied with a wink before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side.

The restaurant he chose was cozy, dimly lit with soft jazz playing in the background. The warm ambiance wrapped around you like a comforting hug as a host led you to a small table near the back, tucked away just enough to feel intimate.

Dean pulled out your chair, and you laughed softly. “Still keeping up the gentleman act, huh?”

“Always,” he said, leaning in slightly as he took his seat across from you. “Gotta keep you impressed.”

“Mission accomplished,” you replied, taking the menu from him. “So, what’s good here?”

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he watched you with an easy smile. “Everything, but you can’t go wrong with the lobster ravioli.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re getting?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a nod. “But if you want to try something else, we can share. I’m a generous guy.”

You smirked. “Good to know.”

As the evening went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Dean had a way of making you feel at ease, his charm disarming and his humor sharp. He told stories about his travels, painting vivid pictures of cities and adventures that made you laugh and lean in closer.

“So there I was,” Dean said, his hands animated as he recounted a tale of narrowly avoiding disaster on a hiking trip. “One wrong step, and I would’ve been headfirst into the river. My buddy still doesn’t let me live it down.”

You giggled, sipping your wine. “You seem like you get into a lot of near-death situations.”

“What can I say? I live life on the edge,” he teased, his voice dropping slightly as his foot nudged yours under the table. “But don’t worry, I’m always careful when it counts.”

Your stomach fluttered at the subtle contact, and you found yourself leaning forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Is that so?”

Dean’s eyes darkened slightly, his gaze flickering to your lips. “It is,” he said softly, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Like right now. Sitting here with you… I want to make sure every moment counts.”

You felt your breath hitch, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. His hand reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was light but deliberate, sending a spark up your arm.

“I’m glad you gave me a chance,” he said, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone like you.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Someone like me?”

Dean nodded, his gaze steady. “Smart, funny, beautiful… someone who knows what they want but doesn’t take themselves too seriously. You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you laughed softly, trying to deflect. “You’ve got a pretty smooth way with words, Dean.”

He grinned. “They're not just words. I mean it.”

The waiter arrived then, breaking the moment as he set your plates down with a polite smile. You and Dean pulled back slightly, but the air between you remained charged.

As you both dug into your meals, the conversation picked up again, filled with laughter and shared bites of food. Dean’s foot found yours again under the table, and this time you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed back slightly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

When the check arrived, Dean insisted on paying, waving off your protests. “You can get the next one,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“Next one, huh?” you teased as you stood.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, offering his hand as you walked out of the restaurant. “I’m already planning it in my head.”

The night air was cool as you stepped outside, and Dean turned to you, his hand still holding yours. “Walk with me?” he asked.

You nodded, and the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the city lights casting a soft glow. Dean’s arm brushed against yours occasionally, each touch sending a warm pulse through you.

Finally, he stopped, turning to face you. His hand found its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing your skin. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he murmured before leaning in.

His lips met yours in a gentle, tender kiss, his other hand settling on your waist. The kiss was slow and sweet, filled with a quiet intensity that made your heart race. You leaned into him, your hands resting on his chest as you let yourself get lost in the moment.

When you finally pulled back, Dean rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled, feeling a mix of warmth and a lingering ache. “Yeah… perfect.”

As you and Dean walked hand in hand through the city streets, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, filled with easy laughter. The warmth between you was undeniable, but there was still a small knot of tension in your chest, one you couldn’t quite shake.

Dean glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “So, Natasha mentioned something interesting the other day.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, curious but wary of what Nat might’ve said.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone light. “She told me about this tradition you and your friends have. Every Friday night, you all meet up at your favorite bar?”

You smiled softly. “That’s true. It’s kind of a ritual for us. We’ve been doing it for years.”

Dean nodded, his eyes warm. “She also mentioned that people you’re seeing are allowed to come along.”

You froze for a second, your heart skipping a beat. “She did, huh?”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Look, I know we haven’t put a label on anything yet, and I get that you want to take things slow. I respect that, completely. But I just want you to know that I’m in this if you are. And if you’re comfortable, I’d love to meet your friends. Natasha always talks about how close you all are, and honestly… it sounds amazing.”

You hesitated, your thoughts immediately drifting to Bucky. Things with Natasha had started to smooth over, but the idea of bringing Dean into the fold brought a new wave of uncertainty. Would Bucky even be there? And if he was, how would he react?

But then again… Bucky or no Bucky, you couldn’t avoid him forever. You literally lived together, and at some point, you’d have to face him. Maybe doing it with your friends around, with Dean by your side, would make it easier. Maybe it was time to stop letting Bucky’s presence dictate your decisions.

You took a deep breath, forcing the knot in your chest to loosen. “Okay,” you said finally, your voice steady. “Yeah, I’d love for you to meet my family.”

Dean’s eyes lit up, his smile widening. “Family, huh? That close?”

You nodded, a fond smile tugging at your lips. “Yup. They’ve been my rock through everything. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he said, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “And hey, no pressure. If it gets too much, we’ll leave. I’m there for you, no matter what.”

You smiled, grateful for his understanding. “Thank you, Dean. That means a lot.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “You’re kind of incredible, you know that?”

"You said that already" Your cheeks warmed, and you leaned into him as the two of you continued your walk, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: To Trying Again

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

I don't wanna mess this thing up (I don't wanna push too far)

(In which an "evil" writer might surprise you guys just a little bit with this part)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.6K

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies! This is sort of a filler-ish short chapter though I do think it's important to both plot and character development. I'd like to preface this by saying I've never been to Minsk or Park Pieramohi so I'm very much going off of pictures. Editing and I remain on very, very bad terms so pretty please let me know of typos so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

July 2018 

“You’re being too loud,” Azzi whisper-screams at the blonde girl in front of her as she closes the door to her room behind her with a little too much force. 

Paige turns her head back every-so-slightly with a pronounced eye roll, “will you please relax.”

“I would if you’d just be a little more careful,” Azzi glares, taking cautious steps as if the sound of her sneakers across the carpeted floor could potentially wake up any of the coaches. 

“Azzi,” Paige says exasperatedly, “the coaches are all the way on the other end of the hallway. Besides, they're probably all sleeping.”

And despite her stubbornness, Azzi can concede that Paige has a point there. It’s nearly midnight and the game against Spain earlier in the day might have had a final score that made it seem like the USA U17 women's basketball team had won handily, but the game itself had been draining to say the least. The post-victory dinner had featured a bunch of worn out teenagers gobbling their food without much conversation and a cohort of coaches who seemed like they needed an hour of drinking followed by good night’s sleep. But even the exhaustion of the day hadn’t been enough to prevent Paige Bueckers and her diabolical mind from coming up with the idea to sneak out into the city of Minsk. 

“No,” Azzi had said immediately even before the words had been spoken, that shimmering glint in Paige’s eyes a dead giveaway as she sidled up to Azzi at the salad bar. 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Paige had pouted. 

“You never say anything good.”

“That’s crazy. You’re so mean to me.”

“So mean,” Azzi had nodded in agreement, “so how about you go and bother someone else.”

“Azzi please. We haven’t had just Paige and Azzi time in ages. Don’t want someone else. Just want you.”

And after that well, there wasn’t really any chance of saying no. Azzi’s only fifteen and she doesn’t know that much about love, but sometimes when Paige looks at her with those earnest blue eyes and a smile that promises i’ll always be here, she thinks the way her heart starts to flutter erratically to a beat of and i wouldn’t want anyone else to stay, might just be the start of her finding out. 

“See,” Paige grins triumphantly as the two girls find their way out of their hotel and onto the street, “told you we wouldn’t get caught. Shit’s just too damn easy.”

Azzi rolls her eyes at the attitude, “don’t tempt fate.”

“Fate’s got nothing in front of Paige Bueckers. I make my own fate,” Paige winks as she links her arms through Azzi. 

It’s a mundane amount of contact, absolutely nothing special to it, but Azzi feels herself shiver in spite of the humidity that’s circling around them. She doesn’t quite know how it happened. One moment she was staring across the court, judging the skinny blonde practicing free throws and coming to the conclusion that she’d be no threat; the next moment said girl was next to her on the plane back from Argentina and Azzi, a self-admitted introvert, found herself rattling off about everything and nothing with this girl who seemed to have discovered the keys to all of Azzi’s locks. Hours of talking had bled into days and days had bled into months and despite the fact that facetime had taken the place of in-person conversations, the word friendship had seemed too cavalier a word to describe the relationship Paige and Azzi were building. 

Paige had whittled away all of Azzi’s carefully constructed armor until she was buried deep underneath her skin and Azzi’s sure there’s no knife in the world sharp enough to carve the blonde out from where she lives underneath Azzi’s ribcage. Azzi doesn’t want anyone to try and dig her out. She  thinks she might bleed out if they do. 

“Az,” Paige whines, waving her free hand in the younger girl’s face, “are you even paying attention to me?”

“That depends,” Azzi hums, “are you saying anything interesting?”

“I’m always saying something interesting.”

“You’re always saying something. The interesting is subjective,” Azzi teases, laughing when Paige pouts. 

“I sneak you out to give you an adventure and this is how you repay me? With insults?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her heart.

“Walking boring streets is not an adventure. Virginia has streets too.”

“It’s not about the streets, it’s about where the streets lead to,” Paige says with grave seriousness. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “are you entering your philosopher Paige era?”

“I’d make a good philosopher,” Paige waggles her own eyebrows as they two girls find themselves entering park Pieramohi. 

“Virginia has parks too, you know Paige?” Azzi says skeptically. 

Paige lets out a dramatic sigh, “will you just keep walking, woman. Sometimes I wonder if you even like me?”

It’s said like a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity beaded into it that buzzes in Azzi’s ears as she wraps a careful hand around Paige’s wrist, stopping the two of them where they are. 

“Hey,” she whispers softly, nudging the older girl, “you don’t ever have to wonder with me. I’m always gonna like you Paige. Even if you’re a pain in my ass half the time.”

“Had to ruin it with the last part, didn't you?” Paige complains but her eyes twinkle at the reassurance, “Just so you know I’m gonna be a pain in your ass forever.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Azzi promises as they continue strolling through the park. 

The silence is peaceful and the breeze that flows around them is like a comforting hug. And Azzi thinks that she’d be okay if there wasn’t a destination for them to get to, as long as the journey came with Paige by her side. 

“We’re almost there,” Paige says slowly, a slightly nervous edge to her voice. 

“You sure you’re not just getting us lost-” the teasing quip dies on Azzi’s tongue as she stares at the scenery in front of her. They’re standing on the edge of a bridge overlooking a lake and it looks like something out of a disney fairytale; the picturesque image of green trees silhouetted against a magically starry night is captured perfectly on the still surface of the water that’s flowing beneath. As Azzi peers across the railing, Paige right next to her, she feels her breath hitch at the reflection that peers up at her. Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison. 

“C’mon,” the blonde says softly, lacing her fingers through Azzi’s as she tugs her along, “I have a plan.”

“There’s more?” Azzi asks in awe as Paige guides her to the gazebo in the middle of the bridge. 

“Just a little bit,” Paige says and oh- that shy smile is different. Azzi doesn’t think she’s seen that one yet and she makes a mental note to herself, to memorize it and store it along with all of Paige’s other smiles that make Azzi’s insides swoop like a rollercoaster. 

She watches intently as Paige begins to peruse through the purple rucksack she’d been carrying. The first thing out of it is a picnic blanket and then a horde of different snacks, all of Azzi’s favorites. Two plastic champagne glasses are next and then a sheepish grin as Paige pulls out a bottle of soda. 

“Couldn’t quite risk trying to get alcohol,” Paige scratches at her neck. 

“Next time maybe,” Azzi shrugs as she helps Paige set up the arrangement and she feels herself fluttering at the thought of doing this again and again and again. 

“How’d you even find this place?” she asks as Paige begins to pour out the soda. 

“You ever heard of googling?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at Paige’s teasing smirk, “how’d you even have time to do this?”

Paige is quiet for a second as she passes Azzi her glass, “wanted to do something special for us,” she says quietly, keeping her eyes intently on what she’s doing as she pours out a drink for herself, “wasn’t hard to find time for you.”

“You could be a poet, Paige Bueckers,” Azzi whispers and she knows it’s unfair of her but she thinks it anyway. As long as all your poems are about me. 

“The poets are lucky I chose a ball instead of a pen. They’d be out of a job otherwise,” Paige says, trying to ease back into the more familiar arrogance. 

“Always so humble,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes as she holds up her glass, “alright what are toasting to?”

“I came up with this whole thing. You can come up with a toast,” Paige scrunches her nose and Azzi shakes her head at it. 

She thinks for a second before smiling brightly at the girl in front of her, “let’s just keep it simple and toast to us.”

“How original,” Paige teases but she clinks her glass against Azzi’s anyways, “here’s to us.”

“Here’s to us,” Azzi repeats as they both take sips of soda. 

They melt into a comfortable silence, relishing in this rare moment where there isn’t a screen separating them from each other. Facetimes is a wonderful creation but a blurry screen, Azzi decides, doesn’t nearly do justice to just how damn pretty Paige is. Her hair is golden as it basks in the glow of the moon and Azzi wonders if the stars are jealous of how brilliantly the blonde’s blue eyes twinkle.

It’s Paige who speaks first, her voice hesitant, “you uh- you never asked me how my date went a couple of weeks ago.”

Azzi feels her whole body go rigid. She’d almost forgotten about Paige’s wretched date. The blonde had told her about it a couple of days before the actual event and Azzi had played the dutiful role of a best friend, teasing Paige with a light-heartedness she didn’t feel and congratulating her with an excitement that came from anywhere but from the heart. She’d purposely avoided Paige’s calls the day of the date and then two days after, coming up with some sorry excuse she no longer remembers. On the third day, when the hollow ache of i miss her voice in her chest had become too hard to ignore, Azzi had finally picked up the phone and diverted the conversation straight to a different topic. She hadn’t thought of the date since. 

“Guess it slipped my mind,” she says airily, fingers gripping the edge of the picnic blanket. 

“I could tell you about it now,” Paige says slowly. 

I’d rather you didn’t, Azzi thinks but that’s a thought that veers a little too out of the sphere of best-friend-isms and so she simply nods her head, “y-yeah tell me about it. How was it?”

“It was nice,” Paige begins and there’s something hidden in her tone that Azzi can't quite place but she’s a little too busy sulking at the idea of Paige with anybody else to try and decipher it, “dinner was good. Took her to a movie after. That was good too.”

“That’s cool P. I’m glad- I’m glad you had fun,” Azzi says nonchalantly, gripping the glass in her hands just a little too tight. 

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t really have that much fun,” Paige clarifies and Azzi gawks at her in confusion as the older girl fidgets with the frayed edges of the picnic blankets, “just didn’t- didn’t feel right. Don’t think she had much fun either. She never texted me after.”

“What a bitch,” Azzi bites out, suddenly irrationally angry at a girl she’d never met because how could anyone possibly not have fun with Paige, “I’m sorry P. You deserve-”

“I didn’t care that she didn’t text back-”

“Still. It’s just the decent thing to do,” Azzi rants. 

“Maybe,” Paige shrugs, “but I didn’t have time to care about that. I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that you weren’t talking to me.”

Azzi flinches at the accusation, rushing out her previous defense, “I was busy.”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers. 

“Paige-”

“But I get it,” the older girl says softly as she reaches for Azzi’s hand, tugging the brunette closer to her and Azzi feels something inside her erupt at how close their faces are, “I probably wouldn’t have talked to you for two days either if you went on a date with someone else.”

“Oh,” Azzi breathes out and there’s probably something more eloquent she should say but there’s this realization of maybe you feel it too that’s beginning to creep up her spine, rendering her speechless as Paige continues to stare at her like she’s mapping out all the tiniest details of Azzi’s face. 

“The whole date, I kept thinking how you wouldn’t order what she ordered off the menu or that you would probably hit my hand if I tried to steal something off your plate but then give it to me anyway. And that the movie would never have been so quiet with you and we’d probably get yelled at for giggling too much and I-” Paige pauses, dragging in a deep breath, “I definitely would’ve kissed you at the end.”

A sigh of relief escapes Azzi’s lips, “you didn’t kiss her.”

“No,” Paige confirms as she drops her forehead against Azzi’s, “but I-,” the blonde gulps nervously and Azzi can’t help the way her hand reaches up to caress the blush forming on Paige’s cheeks. 

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I really want to kiss you,” Paige confesses, voice shaking slightly, “can I kiss you?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, choosing to reply instead by pressing her lips softly against Paige’s. They move slowly at first, testing each other’s boundaries and savoring their first taste of each other. Azzi pulls the older girl onto her lap, hands firmly on Paige’s hips as the other girl clasps her own hands around Azzi’s neck.  It’s a little messy and uncoordinated and Azzi thinks they might need to practice a little more to really get it right but still, it’s everything.

And Azzi just knows

She knows it then just the way she knew Tim was meant to be her dad. The way she knew Jon and José were meant to be her brothers. The way she knew she was meant to play basketball. Azzi knows that she’s meant to fall hopelessly in love with Paige Bueckers. 

March 2033

There are three things Azzi should do. 

Push Paige away 

Tell her this a bad idea 

Run the fuck away

She does none of the above.

Instead Azzi kisses Paige back. 

And it’s still everything. Like the sun and moon are colliding and creating something so insanely powerful; something that feels so eternal. 

There’s nothing soft or slow about it as Paige presses every inch of herself into Azzi until she can feel Paige’s heartbeat as strongly as she can feel her own. It might be impossible but she swears their hearts are talking to each other, tapping out rhythms against each other’s chests that confess all the things their owners are too scared to say. And Azzi wants nothing more than to lose herself completely in the moment because Paige’s lips feel like a drug and Azzi thinks she might just be an addict in relapse. 

Except to relapse, you need to have recovered. And Azzi doesn’t think she ever fully recovered from Paige. 

It isn’t until she feels her back hit the edge of a desk and the sound of something crashing onto the floor infiltrates her ears, that Azzi finally comes to her senses. She tears her lips away from Paige as the older woman groans in protest, arms tightening their hold on Azzi’s waist so she can still have some semblance of control over the situation. And really Azzi knows she’s strong enough to escape Paige’s grip, could easily fight it if she wanted to. But well, she doesn’t want to. And Azzi’s tired of doing things she doesn’t want to do. 

“Paige-”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘we can’t do this’, Azzi I swear to god I’m going to kill you,” Paige threatens, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s. 

Azzi laughs softly and she can feel Paige’s whole body relax at the sound of it and like clockwork, she feels the tension beginning to release from her own muscles, “if you kill me then we definitely can’t do this.”

“I’ll revive you after or something,” Paige says with a half-smirk. 

“Or something,” Azzi rolls her eyes, “but we can’t-”

“Azzi,” Paige groans. 

“We can’t do this right now and definitely not here,” Azzi amends, alluding to the fact that they’re still in Steph’s office. 

Paige raises an eyebrow, cocking her head slightly, “but we can do this later? Somewhere else?”

The question lingers between them as Azzi bites her lip. She knows what this is, knows that it’s Paige putting the ball in her court. A ‘no’ would likely be the end of things and that scares her more than she’s willing to admit but she’s not quite ready to commit to a ‘yes’ yet, even if that flame of desire inside of her, the one that can only be lit by Paige, is blazing hot through her veins. 

“I don’t know,” Azzi says carefully, shivering at the way Paige’s thumb is rubbing circles against her waist, the flimsy material of her shirt doing nothing to prevent the goosebumps forming on her skin, “TBD.”

“That’s not a no,” Paige says carefully, hope blossoming freely on her face. 

“That’s not a yes either,” Azzi warns half-heartedly. 

“But it’s not a no,” Paige presses. 

“No,” Azzi admits, playing with the neckline of Paige’s shirt, “it’s not a no.”

And Azzi’s so scared of the future, scared that if she lets herself burn, she’ll incinerate everyone around her but there’s something in the way Paige smiles at her words. Something that feels a lot like a promise of i’ll be the rain that washes out the fire before you can turn us to ashes. 

“I can work with that,” Paige says softly, tilting Azzi’s chin up. 

“So desperate to get back into my pants Bueckers,” Azzi teases and she expects a witty remark in return but instead she’s met with nothing but sincerity. 

“So desperate to get back into your life,” Paige whispers, voice cracking on the last two words. 

Tears prickle against Azzi’s waterline as she stares in awe at the girl in front of her. Sometimes she thinks Paige doesn’t even know that there’s a halo of goodness sitting above her head, doesn't even know just how beautiful her soul is. Paige is stunning on the outside; it’s something no one can deny. But it’s nothing compared to how gorgeous she is on the inside, nothing compared to how kind, how humble, how forgiving Paige is. 

“Why?” Azzi asks, her tone rife with heaviness. 

“Why what?” 

“After everything, after all this time, why would you still want to be in my life?” the tears fall harder as Azzi struggles to breathe, “I- I broke your heart. I broke us. How could you possibly want that again. How could you possibly want me again?”

Paige's eyes soften as she cups Azzi’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away at the drops of water running down them, “because you’re Azzi. My Azzi. And I get it- I get that you’re not ready to be all in on this with me yet and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not completely ready either. But we can work on it right? Take it slow and see where it goes and maybe we’ll- maybe we’ll be even better this time.”

“You think so?”

“I believe so.”

Azzi presses her lips delicately against Paige’s, reveling in the way it makes Paige’s breath hitch. She pulls away faster than she would like herself and Paige chases her lips, eyes still closed. 

“What was that for,” the blonde asks, slightly dazed. 

“For being my Paige.”

***

Azzi taps her foot impatiently against her wooden patio as she glances at her phone clock for the umpteenth time. Paige is almost twenty minutes late to pick her and Stephie up to go to dinner at her parent’s house. The invites had technically been separate but Paige had insisted that they needed to go together because Paige didn’t want to walk into the house alone. Azzi’s not sure why Paige is nervous to see her dad and brothers again, not when she’s pretty sure they’re bursting with excitement to see the blonde whose pictures still have a permanent place on the family photo wall, but if Paige wants Azzi by her side, well she’s not going to say no. Not anymore. 

 It’s been a week since they’d agreed to take things slow and Azzi’s still not quite sure what exactly that means, but she thinks she likes it. She likes being able to call Paige and not having to come up with a lame excuse for why. She likes that she and Paige can take Stephie out for ice cream after Curry Camp and they don’t have to pretend they’re only tolerating each other’s presence for the little girl’s sake. She likes that they can brush their pinkies while walking and instead of jolting away, they simply just link them together. There’s boundaries of course. No sleepovers at either of their houses. No doing anything more than kissing. No kissing in front of anyone else and definitely no kissing in front of Stephie. No doing anything in front of Stephie really. And there’s still so much mountain left to climb but as long as they’re pushing up it together, Azzi doesn’t think there’s any incline steep enough to stop her from continuing up this path.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals as Paige’s car rounds the corner into Azzi’s driveway. 

Paige steps out of the car, arms wide open and ready to catch Stephie as the little girl goes tumbling down the front porch, aiming straight for the blonde. Azzi’s not an artist by any means but if she was, she thinks she could paint a thousand pictures of Stephie and her Miss Buecks. It terrifies Azzi a little bit, just how perfectly Stephie fits into Paige’s side but it calms her too because there’s a part of her that’s in love with how much they love each other.

“You’re late Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she follows her daughter’s path down the patio stairs. 

Paige grins, shifting Stephie on her lap as she opens the side door to her car to pull out two bouquets of flowers

“Will these make up for it?” she asks slyly as she hands the larger one, an assortment of pink flowers, to Azzi and a slightly smaller bouquet of purple hydrangeas to Stephie. 

“These are so pretty Miss Buecks,” Stephie gushes before pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek left cheek and Paige beams at the compliment, “thank you Miss Buecks.”

“You took that long to get flowers?” Azzi asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, “you’re supposed to thank someone when they give you a gift.”

“Yeah Azzi,” Paige’s eyes glimmer with mirth, “thank me like Stephie thanked me. Don’t you think Mama owes me a kiss on the cheek Steph?”

Azzi narrows her eyes at the scheming pair in front of her as Stephie nods animatedly at Paige’s question, “yeah Mama you owe Miss Buecks a kiss on the cheek.”

Shaking her head, Azzi walks over to Paige taking deliberately steady steps. Slowly Azzi leans in, puckering her lips. Paige closes her eyes and Azzi winks at Stephie who’s eyes widen. 

“I’m waiting,” Paige sing-songs, a self-satisfied smirk taking over her features. 

And instead of the promised kiss, Azzi licks a sloppy strip down Paige’s cheek and the blonde shrieks as both Azzi and Stephie burst into laughter.

“EW AZZI GROSS,” Paige whines, hurriedly rubbing her shirt against her cheek, “is this what you’re teaching your daughter?”

“I’m teaching my daughter not to let anyone manipulate her,” Azzi says, giving Paige a careful look, “now why were you late?”

Paige grins sheepishly as she opens the door to the backseat of the door. A lavender car seat is placed on the left side of the car and Azzi feels her heart lurch with no one’s ever cared like this. 

“It’s pu-ple,” Stephie claps excitedly, “is it for me?”

“Of course it is,” Paige confirms, booping Stephie’s nose before looking at Azzi, “it’s just- we uh- we always have to take your car cause it has the car seat and moving it between cars is such a hassle. So I just thought- you know- I just thought it’d be cool- useful- practical- if I had one too? And this way if you ever need me to take Stephie off you then I uh- then you don’t have to worry about me driving. I don’t- I don’t really knows much about car seats but I looked it up online before and the person at the store agreed that this is definitely the best one- like I swear it’s safe-”

She’s cut off by the feel of Azzi’s lips pressed to her cheeks. 

“Thank you Paige.”

***

Just as Azzi expected, Paige merges herself back into the Fudd family with the same ease she’d first had when she’d carved out a place for herself almost a decade and a half ago. It’s a little emotional at first when Tim opens the door, a smile almost as big as him decorating his face as he pulls Paige into a hug even before she can say a word. 

“Welcome home kid,” he whispers into her blonde hair and Azzi doesn’t have to see Paige’s face to know that her best friend is blinking away tears. 

Guilt surges in Azzi’s stomach and she tries to swallow away the lump of i took this from her that’s blocking her throat. It had been so simple at 15 to give Paige a part of her world; Azzi hadn’t thought twice about it. And then with the snap of her fingers, she’d taken that world away. She knows her parents had never cut Paige out; hell they’d been at her wedding to some other woman -and Azzi had pushed them to go knowing Paige would need it- but it was a far cry from what they’d been. A far cry from when Paige’s schedule was a key factor while planning Fudd family summers. 

“Hey,” Stephie pouts, tiny hands crossed over her small body “I thought you always gave me the first hug Pops.”

“We’ll make an exception today,” Tim says with a wink before letting Paige walk into Katie’s arms and spinning his granddaughter around, “but you’re always gonna be my favorite.”

“I better be,” Stephie threatens and the adults around her laugh. 

And finally it’s Azzi's turn to be pulled into one of her dad’s patent bear hugs. She goes willingly, always at her most warmest in the arms of the man whose blood might not run through her veins, but whose love had always protected her from the cruelties of the world. 

“You look really happy today sweetheart,” Tim says softly. 

Azzi’s eyes flitter over her father’s shoulder to where Jon and José are embroiling Paige in a group hug with Stephie in the middle of it, screaming about finally having their “white sister” back, as Katie and José’s fiancé Tallulah roll their eyes at the group of them, and she can’t help but smile into her dad’s shirt, “I feel pretty happy today.”

*** 

“You cheated,” Jon yells. 

“Miss Buecks does not cheat,” Stephie yells back loyally. 

“Don’t get into this Stephie. You don’t know her like we do,” José glares at Paige who narrows her eyes at him, “she’s been stealing from the bank.”

“Miss Buecks does not  steal,” Stephie defends again, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck from behind as the blonde presses a quick kiss against Stephie’s temple. 

“It’s okay Stephie,” Paige reassures, gently swinging the little girl into her lap, “some people are just sore losers.”

“Can’t be a sore loser because I didn’t lose-” José coughs and Jon corrects himself immediately, “because we didn’t lose.”

“Y’all let it go,” Tallulah groans, leaning her head back against the sofa, “it’s literally just monopoly. Please, I'm so tired.”

“Just monopoly? JUST MONOPOLY?” José guffaws dramatically, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who doesn’t understand that it isn’t just monopoly Tallulah. It’s about liars and cheats and honor-”

“Miss Buecks has plenty of honor,” Stephie says stubbornly, leaning her head back against Paige’s chest.

Jon rounds on Azzi, who’s been silently watching the situation, “did you help her cheat?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi asks, glaring at her brother from where she’s been comfortable reclining on the sofa. She’d opted to be the banker instead of playing, content just handing out money to the rest of them while watching the game unfold. But really she hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone else but her daughter and Paige. Stephie didn’t quite understand the rules yet and so she was always on someone’s team. It had been a given tonight, that of course she would be with Paige. And Azzi had watched, trying not to be too obvious, with a foolish grin on her face, as her two favorite people whispered to each other, Paige listening intently to all of Stephie’s ideas whether they were good or bad. 

“Oh good point,” José turns to look at Azzi too, “you’re the banker, did you help Paige cheat?”

“Mama would never cheat,” Stephie argues defiantly as Azzi pushes herself up from the sofa to send a menacing look to both of her brothers. 

“I’m not going to dignify that accusation with a justification,” Azzi says, standing so she’s towering over her two brothers who are still sitting on the floor, “now clean up the game. It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime.”

 They might be well into their twenties and José might be taller than her now, but they’re still not quite  immune to Azzi’s wrath. Tallulah and Paige snicker as the two men, sulking at each other, obey their older sister's command without another word. 

“You’ve gotta teach me how you do that,” Tallulah says, hi-fiving Azzi who smirks in response. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, “what does dig-ni-fy mean?”

“Mean she’s not gonna entertain your uncles being dumba-”

“Paige!”

“Being dumbapples,” Paige corrects and both Azzi and Stephie give her an odd look at her ridiculous attempt at saving the bad word from leaving her lips. 

“Alright Stephie-bean,” Azzi says, pulling her daughter off of Paige’s lap, “it’s late enough. Off to brush your teeth you go.”

Stephie looks hesitantly between the staircase leading up to the guest bedroom -where she and Azzi normally stayed- and Paige. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay with us tonight?” she asks softly, one hand bunching in Paige’s shirt as she stares up at her mother with large doe eyes, “please Mama.”

“Stephie I don’t think-” Paige begins, ready to stick to the boundaries they’d laid out for themselves and really Azzi should let her; should follow her lead really.  

Except the words are tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop them, “yeah she can- she can stay.”

“YAYY,” Stephie squeals, jumping into Azzi’s arms as Paige stares up at her in surprise, “thank you, thank you, thank you Mama. I’m so happy,” she swings from Azzi to Tallulah, “aunty Tully did you hear? Miss Buecks is gonna stay with us and you can make her your famous pancakes in the morning.”

“I can, can I?” Tallulah asks with a raised eyebrow as she lets Stephie and her excited chatter lead her towards the bathroom. With Jon and José both having already started towards their own rooms and Azzi’s parents fast asleep, it leaves just Paige and Azzi in the living room. 

“You’re okay with me staying?” Paige asks softly, finally lifting herself from the floor and onto her feet. 

Azzi scratches the back of her neck, “if- if you want to. You don’t have to. I can- I’ll explain to Stephie-”

“I want to,” Paige says, taking a cautious step towards Azzi, “but the rules?”

“This doesn’t count,” Azzi justifies and Paige smirks, taking another step towards the brunette. 

“It doesn’t?”

“We said no sleeping over at each other’s places. This is my parent’s house. So technically it doesn’t count,” Azzi shrugs, trying to keep her face from breaking into a grin as Paige moves one more step closer. 

“And where exactly am I sleeping?” Paige asks with a knowing grin as she loops an arm around Azzi’s waist, briefly checking to make sure no one’s around. 

Azzi tilts her head, letting the grin break through, “I think Stephie would like it if you slept with us.”

“Ah well if that’s what Stephie would like,” Paige says, nodding commiseratingly. 

“For Stephie’s sake,” Azzi repeats as she wraps her arm around Paige’s neck, pressing her forehead against the older girl’s and letting herself just breathe in the peace that comes with being all consumed by Paige. 

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability as she speaks again, “you won’t- you won’t run away again tomorrow morning will you?”

“No,” Azzi promises, gently brushing her lips against Paige’s, “I won’t run away again.”

[cherriegyuu]

crossing the line | two | kmg

pairing: mingyu x fem!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff (ish) word count: 3.7k warnings: smut (18+), minors do not interact, oral (male receiving) kissing, swearing part one

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from lover (ts)

Mingyu ➝ Paper RingsI hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this↳ Mingyu had always been your best friend and that line had never been crossed before, then, one day, you woke up naked ion his bed with a vivid memory of the previous night.

Ever since he was a kid, Mingyu had this sort of life motto: regret nothing and own up to the consequences of your actions. And for twenty-six entire years, he managed to do just that. Of course, there were things he wished he could have done differently. However, once something is done there is no going back. He could apologize for it, had it been a mistake, or he could just move on.  And although he didn’t regret a single moment of the night he spent with you, the owning-up part was a little trickier than he had expected.  

Mingyu was sure that your reaction would be bad, he knew that you’d get scared. But he thought that you would stay back so the two of you could talk. Or, at the very least, follow through with what you had said to him. Tomorrow morning, we go back to what we are, was what you said. But when morning came and Mingyu finally woke up, you were no longer in his bed. The only thing left of you was your perfume on his pillow.  

He figured that he should give you time. You got scared and that was normal. He had known you for four years and he knew that you weren’t the kind of person who enjoyed changes. You loved your routines and being inside your bubble. It was a surprise that you had let him get close to you at all, even more so when both of you grew attached to the other.  

Chan said that it was weird but he and Soonyoung were happy that you were finally allowing yourself to just be freer.  

Mingyu wanted to be that person for you but was it so bad that he also wanted to be more than? 

Truth be told, Mingyu had been interested in you since the moment you met. You, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all interested in him so he didn’t press you. When you opened up to him and allowed him to get closer to you, he was dating someone else.  

It was around the same time he started to let himself be touchy with you, like he always was with all his friends, that he noticed that the way he first felt about you didn’t change or disappear.   

He had been idiot enough to stay with his girlfriend, thinking that maybe he was reading too much into what you were doing. Then his girlfriend started to get uncomfortable, the fights started and they just broke up. 

Though he didn’t feel nearly as heartbroken as he made it seem, Mingyu let you nurse him through his breakup. You’d sit with him for hours, his head on your lap while you played with his hair. 

“I think you’d look great with long hair,” you said randomly one day. 

“Why?” he looked away from the tv, eyes focused solely on you.

“You’re disgustingly handsome. I think you should try”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Mingyu started to let his hair grow and he was too lazy to get a proper cut so you were the one cutting his hair for him. I don’t want to hear a single complaint about this, you told him while he sat in the middle of your bathroom. 

It was physically painful for him to hold back from touching you. Mingyu was well aware that if you got scared you’d just run away from him and there was a high chance of him never seeing you again. And that wasn’t something he wanted. 

Desperate moments call for desperate measures. He needed, God help him, Soonyoung’s help.

“So, how long will you keep avoiding Mingyu?” Soonyoung asked when you set his coffee in front of him. 

Your lifelong friend had asked to meet you once your shift was over, and you agreed. Much to your surprise, he had gotten there an hour early and was now just bothering you.

"Shut up and drink your coffee"

"Come on, there's no one here. Sit down and talk to me"

The problem with working at a café that had a homely feel was that your friends, honestly just Soonyoung, thought that they could just pretend that it was your own home. 

"I'm working"

He rolled his eyes at you.

"At your brother's café," he tugged at your shirt "Sit down, humor me for a second"

With a sigh, you dropped your body on the couch next to his. 

"He asks about you every single day, you know? He said you guys fought, so he's giving you time. But I don't think he will be able to hold himself back for much longer"

You pinched your nose, your heart suddenly aching at his works. 

Truth was, you missed Mingyu. Desperately. You regretted leaving his side the moment you closed his apartment door but you also couldn't bring yourself to go back.

You figured that you should give yourself a little time to understand what happened and maybe get it sorted out in your mind. But you couldn't stop thinking about him, about the way he kissed you — so tenderly, with so much care, as if you were something precious that he would never give himself the luxury of breaking. 

His touch was engraved in your body, just thinking about it made your skin electric. Mingyu was the first thing you thought about in the mornings, the last thing on your mind before you drifted off to sleep. He found ways to sneak up on you when you least expected it.

He texted you every day like he normally did, but you left all of his messages on read. You had been obsessed with your notification bar for the past three of weeks.

Though your actions said otherwise, you were scared of facing Mingyu, terrified that things between the two of you would change. 

"Tell me what happened" Soonyoung nudged you with his knee "Maybe I can help.  You know I always have killer advices"

There was no way you'd tell Soonyoung you slept with Mingyu.

"We just fought, it was stupid" you shook your head.

You watched in complete distress as the two working wheels inside his brain moved. Soonyoung went from furrowed eyebrows that said this fucking dumb girl to wide eyes.

"You guys fucked!"

You pressed your hands to Soonyoung's mouth, looking over your shoulder to make sure that your brother was still in the kitchen. Soonyoung kept his eyes wide open, his words muffled by your hands.

"Shut up!" 

He managed to push your hands away, looking over your shoulder before leaning on the table with his forearms, his voice barely a whisper.

"You're an adult, I'm pretty sure your brother knows you have sex from time to time"

"He doesn't need to know with whom" you pushed his head back. 

"Well, at least you're not denying it"

It would have been stupid to deny it when you felt as if you were walking around with a sign that said I slept with my best friend hanging over your head.

"Listen, I'll be as honest about this as I possibly can. You guys like each other, and have for a very long time. I mean everyone thinks you're dating" when you started to shake your head, Soonyoung rolled his eyes "I can count the amount of times I've hugged you in the past ten years. Twenty, if you're wondering. One for my birthday and one for yours, which I always have to force you to do"

"yn, you're not someone who's very into physical touch, which is fine. But with Mingyu? You guys touch each other the whole time, anywhere. The only time you guys weren't all over each other was when he was in a serious relationship, which mind you, you cried over"

Soonyoung was a fantastic friend, always. Despite his loud personality, at least around your group, he gave advice quietly. He never made a big deal of situations, he never went around screaming your secrets away. But in that moment you hated how much he was able to read you, like the only thing hiding your feelings was a thin glass wall.

"I didn’t cry" you sighed, dropping your head to the table.

"Sweetheart, you sobbed. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with you"

Soonyoung had laughter in his eyes, and at that moment he reminded you so much of the boy you met in high school. He had changed so much, from the way he dressed to the way he behaved. But still, somewhere inside, he was the same kid from ten years before.

"What are you afraid of?"

Of a life without Mingyu, was the only answer you had. 

You met Mingyu for the first time at twenty-two, fresh out of college, scared of life. You hated your major, marketing, and hated your job too. Mingyu had been a breath of fresh air, with wide eyes and a beautiful smile. 

It was always hard for you to let people close. You were just too shy and introverted but ever since Chan introduced you to Mingyu, you enjoyed his presence. He was always too much. Too tall, too large, too loud, talked too fast. But whenever he spoke to you, his voice was a little quieter, softer somehow.

Mingyu was larger than life itself and you were afraid you were too little compared to him. 

He was out there with his fancy corporate job, a financial manager, while you worked at your brother's café. It was what you wanted, yes, your shit degree had some use and you got to test out recipes with your brother. It was a much simpler life than the one Mingyu wanted.

"We're too different" you whispered, blinking away your tears.

You wanted Mingyu, not just like your best friend but in all ways one can have someone. You wanted to be able to kiss him whenever and do all the romantic shit you had seen people around you do.

"You're not and even if you were, what's so wrong about that? Don't people say that opposites attract?" he patted your hand "Won't you rather regret a decision than spend your life wishing you could have done something different?"

Soonyoung's Words still echoed through Mingyu's mind hours after they spoke on the phone. 

yn thinks she's not enough for you.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do with that information. How he was supposed to convince you that you were more than enough? Not just that, that you were the only one he wanted.

As soon as he ended the call with Soonyoung, Mingyu had gotten up from his desk, ready to call it a day and go after you. Everything else could wait. There was nothing more important than you to him. 

It didn't seem to matter to his boss though, as he not only made Mingyu stay but also work over hours. Managers make their own schedule, my ass. It was already past midnight when he got inside his car. 

It was too late to go to your place and try to talk with you.  It was almost the middle of the night and Mingyu wanted to have a clear head to speak with you. He needed to be the most eloquent version of himself so that he could lay out in front of you, all of his cards, and hopefully maybe have you back in his life. Even if you were to remain just friends. 

So he dragged himself home, feeling defeated once again. Three weeks of no contact with you had been pure torture. His messages were read the night before, which gave him a little bit of hope, but still, he didn't get an answer. His phone calls were obviously screened. 

"Fuck" he cursed turning the lights in his living room on.

Mingyu rubbed his eyes to make sure that he wasn't imagining things. Because there you were, sleeping on his couch

In complete silence, or at least trying to be as quiet as possible, Mingyu took off his shoes and locked the door behind him. He never took his eyes off of you, scared that maybe if he looked away or even blinked you'd disappear.

He kneeled on the floor by your side, his hand immediately going to your face. 

Ever since you met Mingyu, four days was the longest period of time you went without seeing each other. Six hours was the longest you went without talking. Needless to say, those three weeks had been hell, both for you and him. 

You had been stubborn and Mingyu was determined to give you space. It was a lose-lose situation. 

“yn” he whispered your name.

Slowly you opened your eyes. And god, how much had he missed those eyes. Mingyu found out, very early on, that your eyes held all of your truths. You went about your life thinking that no one had a single clue of what was going on through your mind — and for the most part, you managed to succeed. But there were moments when you allowed him to see all there was to you. 

And maybe that wasn’t your intention but your eyes gave away your truth. You missed Mingyu, desperately so, just as much as he missed you.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” you said pushing back a yawn.

Mingyu smiled at you, his hand on your head, lightly massaging your scalp.

“It’s okay, it’s really late”

You nodded, eyes closing again.

“Can you lay with me?”

You tugged a little on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Yeah, give me just a minute”

Mingyu leaned down and kissed your hair quickly before standing up. He got out of his working clothes and grabbed whichever comfortable ones were closer to him. With a blanket in his hand, he went back into the living room. 

You scooted back onto the couch, your back pressed against the couch, giving Mingyu enough space to crawl in by your side. 

As soon as you felt Mingyu’s body next to yours, you wrapped your arm around his waist, getting as close to him as you possibly could. 

With a content sigh, Mingyu nested your head against his neck, his lips never leaving your forehead. 

It didn’t take long for him do fall asleep too.

You were the kind of person who didn’t like sleeping in places that weren’t your bed, your home. In fact, you had a really hard time sleeping in unknown places. And yet, wrapped in the warmth of Mingyu, you felt as if you had slept for the first time in weeks. 

You missed Mingyu like crazy and craved his touch each waking minute of the day. 

You tilted your head back a little, to look at him. How you managed to go three weeks without him was unknown to you. But now that you were in his arms again, you would never let him go again. 

Even if that night had changed everything or nothing at all, you decided that you wanted Mingyu in your life in whichever way he was willing to be. 

Talking with Soonyoung had helped, more than you could have imagined. He walked you home that night, going over with you through everything that you felt, and why you decided to bolt in the morning. His answer was for really smart people, both of you are dumb as fuck.

During the entire day, you built up the courage to go to Mingyu and try and see if there was anything salvageable about your friendship. 

Mingyu stirred awake, his arms tightening around you, causing a small laugh to escape your lips. 

“What?” he asked, voice low and raspy. 

“You’re squeezing me”

It wasn’t a complaint, in any way, shape, or form. You liked the feeling of him all around you, almost way too much.

“It was intentional”

He squeezed you again, shifting on the couch and pulling you on top of him. His eyes were foggy with sleep but it was easy to spot the same thing you saw that night. The emotion you refused to acknowledge then. 

Longing and adoration. 

“Sorry, I left that day. I freaked out” You shook your head, pushing his hair from his forehead. You wished you could be more vocal about all of it, have prettier words for him "I thought that if I stayed our relationship would be over because I don't think I can go back to how we were before that night. I…"

You groaned and hid your face on the crock of his neck.

“I like you” you admitted quietly “I have for a really long time now”

Scared, you looked at him.

"I want it all with you, yn. I've liked you from the start. So can we, please, stop pretending that there isn't anything more than just friendship between us? We’ve had our fair share of miscommunication, missed opportunities, and unspoken feelings. Our friendship is everything to me, but I can't ignore these other feelings anymore”

His eyes never left yours. His emotions weren’t hidden in his sleeve, they were on full display for you. Everything that Mingyu was, he showed to you without any reservations.

So, instead of giving him stuttered words, you pulled his face close to yours, capturing his lips into yours.

The kiss was the same as the ones from the other night but also entirely new. That night you were friends testing the waters, entering unknown territory. In that moment, though, you were more. 

“I missed you so much” you whispered against his lips, trailing soft kisses down his neck. You felt his semi-erect cock under you, his hands on your ass “So much, Gyu”

“yn?” he asked as you moved lower on his body.

“I never got a chance to do this that night”

You kept on moving down over his body, nails lightly scratching the exposed skin of his lower stomach that was uncovered by his shirt. In one swift movement, you pulled his sweats and boxers down, revealing his cock. 

“I can never predict you,” he said with a laugh “Two seconds ago we were confessing, and now, look at you”

You ran the tip of your finger over the length of his cock while looking at him, trying your best to keep a neutral face.

“Do you want to talk some more?” you asked, voice sweet.

“Looking at you, all quiet and sweet, no one would ever… Jesus, fuck”

You didn’t wait for him to finish, taking him as deep as you could in your throat. You stood still for a second, eyes still on Mingyu watching his reaction. His head was tipped back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. Slowly you started to bob your head up and down, one of your hands on his balls as the other held the base of his cock.

“Fuck, yn” he moaned. 

Mingyu snaked his hand on your head, fingers gripping your hair and slightly pulling it, while forcing your head down on his cock, making you moan in exchange. You pulled your head back, licking his tip and small drops of precum. You felt him twitch as you teased his tip with your lips and tongue, your hands pumping him up and down. 

Another moan left his lips, louder this time, followed by a grunt.

Abruptly he pulled you up. 

“If you keep going, I’m going to cum in your mouth”

You smiled at him, which made him moan again.

“That’s what I was going for” you complained, kissing his neck, hand going between your bodies, running down once again, until you reached him. 

“But I want to fuck you” he whispered against your ear, biting the sensitive skin.

Mingyu took your lips in his, his hand still on your hair. Without ever breaking the kiss, he stood from the couch with you in his arms, pushing his pants and underwear past his ankles. The pieces of clothes lost somewhere in the hallway.

“I’m going to stock this entire goddamn apartment in condoms, every single room” he grunted as he dropped you on the bed “Pants off”

“Aren’t we bossy” you teased with a laugh, but still complied “You too, shirt off”

He rolled his eyes at you, pulling his shirt over his head. How many times had you ogled his body over the years, watching the transformation of going to the gym every single day? And now he was in full display for you.

“I want to ride you” you whispered.

Mingyu didn’t complain, settling against the headboard of the bed.

“I’m all yours”

Something in the way he said it felt real, final. He was yours and you were his.

You climbed up his body and took his cock in your hand again, pumping him once, then again, before angling him under your wet pussy.

Slowly, painfully so, you lowered your body,  taking every inch of him in. You moaned, feeling full of him. Mingyu reached over and pulled your shirt off too.

Lazily you started to move up and down, deliberately so. 

“Baby, you have to go faster” he moaned, pulling your face close to his, nibbling on the skin of your neck. You knew he would leave a mark, and so did he, but you didn’t mind. 

Mingyu suddenly grabbed your hips with both hands, firmly holding you as he started to move his hips up and down, faster than the pace you were willing to give him. You wanted to torture him, but he could do just the same to you. He smiled when you clutched onto his shoulder, head tilted back.

“Ah, Mingyu, fuck” you cried “fuck, fuck, fuck”

He moved one of his hands, his thumb pressing over your throbbing clit, mercilessly rubbing in circles. 

“Ah… oh my god”

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” 

He pressed harder against you, hips moving faster. The sound of his skin hitting yours was loud, dirty, and enticing. 

“Cum for me, baby, all over my cock” he whispered.

With a cry, you felt your pussy clenching around his cock as your orgasms took over you. Your entire body shook as you held onto Mingyu, biting his neck while he fucked you, thrusting to the hilt, again and again, until he too found his release.

You pulled back slightly and kissed him.

“Give me two minutes and I’ll eat you out”

You laughed and pushed his face back.

“You don’t have it in you, big boy”

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[mysaintkitten]

I fully forgot I had this .. so here’s a little something for y’all lol

prompt: Jonathan calls you up after having a few drinks

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), mentions of alcohol/intoxication, brief mentions of suicide, subby-ish Jonathan, phone sex, come eating

*not proofread & old as hell*

you’re abruptly awoken by the phone ringing. through squinted eyes, you peak at the clock sitting on top of your nightstand.

1:03 am flashes at you. who’s calling at this hour? you drag your body out of bed and trudge your way over to the living room where your home phone resides. once there, you drop to the couch and grab the phone, putting it up to your ear.

“hello?” you groan, you hear a small snicker on the other end.

“hiii babyyy!” they respond, clearly a little tipsy, you immediately recognize the voice.

it’s jonathan, your close friend, who had recently got placed into a psyche ward after attempting to kill himself. you hadn’t heard from him since he had told you the news. now here he is, ringing your phone at 1 am, while simultaneously dropping a “baby” bomb on you.

“jonathan?” you blurted, feeling yourself become a bit more awake, “what are you doing? why are you up? how do you even have access to a phone right now?”

he sighs into the phone, “me and toby sn- toby’s m’pal .. by the way .. we snuck out ‘n had a few drinks ..” his mumbles, “now ‘m allllll alone ..” he whines, dragging out the all to emphasize his loneliness, “oh ‘n about the phone .. since i’ve been so good they gave me a landline, cordless too, i mean they couldn’t give me a cord ‘cause i might wrap it around my neck, but it’s nifty!”

you roll your eyes. of course he’d do some shit like this. if it was any other friend, you would’ve told them bluntly that you’re not in the mood to talk, but jonathan was an exception right now. he was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, and his comment about wrapping the cord around his neck grounded you back into reality. you decided to chat with him for a while.

“is that so?” you reply, “how’d the night go?”

“fun!” he bubbled, “oh m’god .. me and toby .. my friend .. we saw this piss drunk guy fall in the street!” he giggles while recounting the incident. you giggle with him, not so much at the story, but at the fact that he felt the need to reiterate that he has a friend named toby.

“that sound very funny, jon, but shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”

he whines, “‘m not tired! plus i’ve been thinking about you .. that’s why i called .. wanted to hear your voice ..”

oh?

“why’d you wanna hear my voice? you miss me that much?” you joke, relaxing more into the couch. he hums, “jus’ like how it sounds ..”

“well. you woke me up, and i don’t think i’ll be able to go back to sleep, so you’re welcome to listen to my voice for a while.” you chuckle softly, not thinking too heavily about his intentions. he’s drunk, after all.

“hmm ..” he mumbles in approval, “can you jus’ talk? tell me about your day, love ..”

your brows furrow a bit at the request, but you oblige.

“i didn’t do too much .. just showered .. picked up a bit .. it was nice though.”

he groans quietly at you mentioning showering.

“mmh .. wards got no nice soaps .. i like how your soaps smell. always smellin’ so good ..” he murmurs, through the phone you can hear some minor rustling, but you assume it’s just jonathan drunkenly tossing and turning.

you laugh at his odd compliment, “you think i smell nice?”

“oh, i think a lot of you s’nice, darling.” he assures, his breathing becoming heavier

“what else about me is nice, jonathan?” you ask, thinking he’ll say something corny like your humour or your personality.

“that face f’yours .. gorgeous ..” he giggles and huffs, “‘n that body .. maybe it’s ’cause ‘m all alone .. ‘n a bit tipsy .. but i can’t stop thinkin’ about touchin’ you ..”

oh.

you’re not too sure what to say. you’ve been friends with jonathan for years, you would have never assumed that he wanted you that way. jonathan was very attractive, and you’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about him in a sexual way before.

“jonathan ..” you reply calmly, “i think you’re just drunk and confused, how about we talk more tomorrow? you can call me when-“

he whines, “no, baby, ‘m sorry .. i’ve just wanted you .. for so long ..” he hums as his breathing becomes louder, “‘n now .. just your voice got me s’hard ..”

you pause, listening to jonathan, you still hear the shuffling and his breathing. occasionally he whines a few times, is he touching himself?

“jon, are you .. getting off right now?”

he chuckles, “s’hard .. mmh .. thought i might faint.”

you hate to admit it, but hearing jonathan’s neediness got you a little worked up. knowing he was hard just from your voice ignited some interesting feelings from within you.

as your mind is racing, jonathan speaks, “if i w’s there .. would y’touch me?”

your heart begins to pound, his words have become more direct. he’s not just rambling about how he feels, he wants to know how you feel. you slip one of your hands into your panties, feeling how slick you’ve become from jonathan’s words. you might as well get yourself off as well.

instead of answering, you flip the question. “i’m wondering what you’d do if i was there.” you laugh breathily as you gently rub your clit. jonathan whines into the phone, “god, baby, s’filthy. y’don’t even wanna know ..”

“tell me. i want to hear it.” you pry as you become more aroused, hearing jonathan moan weakly at his own thoughts.

“mmh .. wanna eat your cunt .. make y’come at least once on m’face ..” he groans, “wanna fuck you. raw. make y’shake ‘n cry from my cock. wanna make that cunt feel so so good.”

jesus. really didn’t take much convincing for him to spill his thoughts. you bite your lip at his words, hearing his fantasies made you blush embarrassingly hard.

“hm .. yeah?” you moan into the phone, rubbing your clit at a quicker pace

“‘n i wanna eat you again after my cocks been ‘nside you .. lick up our come ..” jonathan gasps, through the phone you can hear him fisting his now slick cock. “then i wanna kiss you when m’done ..” he adds, chuckling a bit.

“god ..” you sigh, “you are filthy.”

you’re finding it difficult to hold back your moans, you almost want jonathan to hear them at this point.

“you .. you got me all wet, jon ..” you admit a bit awkwardly, you’ve never had phone sex before, but you don’t think jonathan will notice.

he whimpers “are y’touching yourself, baby?”

“yeah .. yeah i am ..” you purr, sliding a finger inside yourself and moaning softly as you plunge it in and out.

“jesus, fuck ..” he huffs, “you rubbin’ your clit? or fingering yourself?”

“i’m doing both .. switchin’ every now and then ..” you coo, adding a second finger inside. you hiss slightly at the change, but your cunt quickly adapts and accepts the second finger.

“mmh!” jonathan moans, “s’hot, knowing you’ve got y’fingers all over that pussy .. you sensitive, baby?”

he’s really into calling you baby. although it feels foreign, you’re not opposed to it at all.

“yeah .. a bit ..” you chuckle breathlessly as you remove your slick fingers out and bring them back to your clit.

“oh, fuck ..” he whimpers loudly, “baby, baby, ‘m not gonna last- m’sorry ..”

you could tell from jonathan’s tone and desperate little whimpers that he was close, he didn’t need to tell you, but it’s kind of nice that he at least let you know.

“that’s okay, come jon. show me how good it feels.” you purr. he can’t physically show you, but he can verbalize it, and he does.

“mmf- fuck, baby, ‘m comin’-“ he moans loudly, you’re worried other people in the ward might hear him.

“that’s it, come on yourself jon, good boy.” you encourage, you’re almost surprised that you called him a good boy, you never expected that to slip out.

his moans dwindle into small little whimpers as he rides out the orgasm, huffing quietly once he’s come down.

“‘m all messy, baby ..” he giggles,

“poor thing, you gonna clean yourself up?” you hum to tease.

“mhm .. nice ‘n clean ..” he mumbles as you hear him making small sucking and licking noises,

“jon, are you licking up your come?” you nearly chuckle at him,

“well no one’s ‘ere to do it for me ..” he whines, continuing to lick away his come.

“jesus. dirty, dirty boy.” you scold playfully, toying with your clit again.

“‘m a dirty boy ..” he repeats while yawning, “dirty boy.”

“you tired?” you ask softly,

“mmh, yeah, little bit ..” he mumbles,

“how about you get some sleep and we talk more tomorrow, all right?”

“mmh.. but i wanna talk ..” he groans,

you laugh weakly at his determination, “i’ll be here tomorrow. trust me. get some sleep. we can talk when you’re more awake and sober.”

“fine .. g’night baby. sweet dreams.” he gives in, yawning again

“sleep well, jonathan.” you close before hanging up. as you place the phone down, you’re left with silence and your thoughts. you decide you might as well get yourself off, and you do, you come in your pants to the thought of jonathan’s whimpers and moans. then, you clean yourself off before heading back to bed.

—

Not to jinx myself … but I am currently writing. Send me good energy yall please

[star-wrote]

Need

ao3 link

Character: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Prison Era

Summary: After somehow convincing Daryl to let you go on a hunt with him, you stop to admire a pretty flower. Little did you know, the pollen would have an… interesting effect on you.

Warnings: smut, swearing, sexual details, sex pollen??, insecurity on daryl’s part, a little fluffy, a little angsty, apparently no threat of walkers bc they get it on in the woods.

Word Count: 2,500 ish

18+

Convincing Daryl to let you tag along on a hunt was a task in itself. He was the closest thing you had to a best friend these days, so he knew how antsy you got when being behind the prison gates for too long. He felt the same way. That didn’t mean he was going to let you go out into possible danger any easier though. You practically had to drop to your knees and beg him to let you join, swearing you’d bring extra luck for him to catch a deer. Muttering something like “ain’t need no luck” under his breath, he eventually agreed to let you join. You pretended not to see his cheeks redden when you wrapped your arms around his neck in an excited hug.

That was about two hours ago. Now, you were following him through the forest as he tracked some animal. You were doing your best to keep quiet, given the fact that he had scolded you just about five minutes ago for walking too carelessly (whatever that means). You started to grow bored. Sure it was nice being away from the prison, but you figured your best friend would entertain you in at least some conversation. You should’ve known better, this was Daryl Dixon.

You were about to suggest playing a silly game of truth or truth when you saw something pink out of the corner of your eye. You paused and walked over, observing a beautiful flower that looked like it belonged to a storybook. Your internal battle of deciding whether or not to pick it was fast as you assumed a walker would just trample it anyway. So you picked it.

Daryl knew right away that you weren’t following him anymore, so he paused for a drink of water while he watched you get distracted by a flower. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile as he noticed you pick it and immediately bring it to your nose to inhale the scent. As you pulled it away from your face, he saw it left pink specks of pollen on your nose.

“Ya got a lil somethin’ on yer nose.”

Instead of a reply, he was met with a series of four loud sneezes.

“Jeez woman, gonna draw all the walkers in.”

You giggled, wiped your nose, and finally replied with a small, “sorry.”

“If yer done pickin’ flowers, let’s get back to trackin’ this deer,” he said as he grabbed his bag from where he placed it on the forest floor.

You gasped, “You didn’t tell me we were tracking a deer! I told you I would bring good luck.”

He rolled his eyes at you for the second time that day and muttered “stop.”

It started as an ache in between your legs. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant, but it was surprising how strong it was.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling of arousal. You were a girl who knew her own body. At least before the end of the world. There wasn’t enough time, safety, or privacy to bring yourself pleasure. Not to mention the lack of people throwing themselves at you.

Still, it was unfamiliar for you to feel so much arousal on a hunt with Daryl.

Daryl.

You found your gaze wandering to the archer taking sure steps in front of you. His shoulders seemed to be broader than normal… no, he was always this large. Your eyes went lower as you found yourself thinking about what else had to be large, accidentally letting out a whimper.

Daryl didn’t stop walking, just tossed a “ya okay?” over his shoulder.

You shook your head, as if it would cleanse your brain of the impure thoughts you had for your best friend, and answered.

“Yeah, sorry, just tripped over my feet. You know me, super clumsy haha.” Stop talking!

He just grunted in response. Phew.

You wondered if he would grunt like that while he was deep inside of you…

This time you actually did trip, bumping into the firm man in front of you. He whipped around and grabbed you by your shoulders.

“Tha’ hell? What’s gotten into ya?”

Not you, sadly.

He looked at you more deeply and noticed your face was flushed pink like the flower you still held in your hand, and your chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Are ya okay? Ya bit?” He asked with a worried look as his eyes ran down your frame.

It wouldn’t make sense for you to have gotten bit, he was with you the entire time. No, it was something else.

You looked up at him with a glazed look in your eyes and got out the words “so hot.” You weren’t sure if you were talking about your body temperature or him at this point. His big hands on your shoulders felt as if they were burning holes through your skin. The ache between your legs had turned into a stabbing pain, and your lower stomach felt a different kind of hunger. Lust.

Daryl was beyond worried when he saw you drop your flower to clutch at your stomach. His eyes looked to the flower and recognition finally crossed his brain. Oh no.

He scooped you up bridal style, and you all but moaned. Now that he knew what was happening, a blush reached his face. He carried you to a nearby willow tree next to a lake and sat you down under the shade. You whined when he let go, so he made sure to at least grab your hands with his.

“Sunshine? I need ya to listen to me.”

You met his eyes and nodded, but still had a glazed over expression.

He sighed, knowing this was the best it would get. “I think tha’ flower ya smelled was one of those aphrodisiacs. A really strong one too. I remember reading about it in that unique plants of Georgia book ya found for me.”

Your eyes widened and you let out another whine. “It hurts so bad. I- I need. Ugh.”

“Ya need to just wait it out. Could be a couple of hours.”

“No Daryl I can’t. I need you to fix it. Please fix it.”

He wasn’t sure what you were asking for, but he knew he’d give you anything if you asked him with those big, round eyes.

“Honey, I’m not sure what yer askin’.

“Need you to fuck me.”

That stopped his breath where it was in his chest. His eyes widened as he looked anywhere but your desperate face. He knew you weren’t in your right mind. You didn’t actually want him, you just wanted to act on the arousal you felt. He wasn’t sure he could handle your touch if it wasn’t genuine.

He was drawn out of his thoughts as he saw you strip your shirt off out of the corner of his eye. Somehow, his face grew even more red.

“Nah, you don’t wanna do this. You don’t want me.”

“Daryl please, I only want you. I’ve only wanted you for so long. Since the farm. Not just your body, but your soul and mind and thoughts and oh my god please I just need you to fuck me. Make it go away please.” You cried.

His heart stopped at your confession. Was this true or was it just the drug from the flower talking?

He brought his hands up to your cheeks and looked into your eyes as you nuzzled into his warm palms.

“Need ya to look at me.” He waited until your eyes met his. “Need ya to tell me that you really want this, want me. And that ya wont regret it.”

You brought your hands to his on your face. “I promise. I want you. I want you so bad. Only you.”

With that, he roughly pushed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You could’ve melted then and there. Especially when you moved your hand to wrap around the back of his hair and heard the sound he let out. A kind of grunt that you had only heard in your dreams until then.

“Imma take care of ya. Don’t worry baby.” He panted.

Clothes were off in an instant, but Daryl’s shirt stayed on. You knew about the scars and had seen them a few times, but you didn’t want to push him. Plus, you weren’t in the state to reassure him much anyway.

He currently had you on your back on the soft moss next to the willow tree, his mouth sucking your clit and fingers deep in your pussy. He said he needed to warm you up, even after you tried to convince him you were warmed up enough. You had a feeling it was more for him to prepare himself anyway.

It was heavenly, his eyes closed and arms wrapped around your thighs. His tongue never stopping at lapping up your wetness. His fingers gently but firmly hooking into you at a steady pace. It was perfect.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Daryl, please, I need more. I need you, please.” You gasped out.

He released your clit with a wet pop and pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean of your juices. Your eyes could’ve rolled back in your head at the sight.

“Alright,” he rasped out, “quit yer whinin’ girl.”

You grinned up at him as he pumped his cock in his hands. You knew he was big.

He must’ve seen you drooling over his dick because he smirked and gently caressed your cheek before popping his thumb into your mouth for you to suck.

You weren’t sure where this newfound confidence came from, but god you loved it.

He took his thumb out and shushed you as you whined in protest.

“Ya ready for me baby?”

You could’ve nodded until your head fell off. His “warming you up” took the edge off, but the ache was back in full force, begging for you to just jump on him.

“Please Daryl. Need you so bad.”

“Alright, alright. Tell me if anythin’ hurts. I’ll try and be gentle baby.”

Your heart swooned but your lust clouded brain wanted you to yell at him to not be gentle. Instead, you settled on nodding at him.

Daryl placed his tip at your entrance and looked into your eyes as he pushed inside. Any amount of hesitance he felt dissipated as soon as he felt your wet, warm walls squeezing him.

The stretch you felt was the relief you needed. You felt your thoughts clear, as well as your clouded eyes.

Daryl noticed the change immediately and kissed your nose, then your forehead.

“Ya okay? Want me to stop?” He asked with a hint of embarrassment. Now that he solved your “problem” he was worried that you’d suddenly find him less appealing and grow disgusted with him. He tried to push the thoughts away, but his brain has always been programmed to doubt himself. He felt your arms snake up his back and hold on tight to him as your legs wrapped around him to keep him inside of you.

“Don’t you dare stop.” You breathed out, still accommodating to the stretch you felt between your legs. “I still want you. Still need you.”

Even though the effects of the pollen were sated as soon as he entered you, that didn’t stop you from being turned on by the archer. You always knew you wanted something more with him, and now you were finally getting it. So you bucked your hips up further on his length with a moan.

He closed his eyes tight to prevent himself from thrusting the rest of the way into you. He knew he was big, and now that you were thinking more clearly, he knew that he had to be more gentle. When he opened his eyes, he saw you looking at him with wide eyes and your teeth tugging on your lower lip. God, you were beautiful.

He brought your hands above your head and locked your fingers with his. Then he slowly and finally filled you up the rest of the way. You both gasped and squeezed each other’s hands.

You let out a whine when he pulled out again, but sighed as he thrusted back in.

“Harder, you won’t break me.” You pleaded with him.

“I gotcha.” His next thrust was hard enough for you to release his hands and clutch onto his back. He leaned on one of his arms above you and brought the other to press into your lower stomach. “You feel me right here, baby? So deep huh?”

“Oh my god!” You moaned out for him. “Daryl… feels so good.”

He just thrusted faster and harder in response, desperate to make you feel good like you deserve.

He felt you tighten around him and he read your body signs with ease, as if you two had done this a million times before. He brought the hand was pressing on your lower stomach down to find and circle your puffy clit, getting a reaction immediately. You gasped and scratched your nails down his covered back as you somehow got out the word, “gonna-“

“I know, let go for me baby, c’mon.” He felt himself getting closer, wishing so bad that he could stay inside your cunt and finish there, but he knew the risks.

You tugged his body into yours as you finished around him, squeezing him in more ways than one.

Daryl let you ride out your pleasure before pulling out of the sweet cunt that kept sucking him in. It only took two pumps for him to release all over your inner thighs with a raspy grunt. He sat back on his knees and watched as his cum trickled down the puffy wetness between your legs and fell into the moss below him. He wished he has a camera in a moment like this, but he decided to settle on a mental snapshot for later.

He grabbed his handkerchief from his pants on the forest floor and wiped his cum from your thighs. You smiled up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. You grabbed his hand when he finished and brought it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

You could’ve laughed at the blush that crossed his features. This man just said the dirtiest things to you without shame, but got so shy over a small kiss to his hand.

When Daryl finally met your eyes, a look of relief showed on his face as he saw the smile that graced your lips. He suddenly collapsed onto his back next to you and brought your face to his in the sweetest kiss ever experienced between you two.

“This wasn’t a one time thing, right?” You asked, furrowing a brow at him.

He pecked your pouted lips again. “Nah, now that I have ya, I ain’t lettin’ ya go.”

As you and Daryl enjoyed the blissful silence together, tracing fingers along each other’s frames, you both jumped when you heard sticks cracking a couple of feet away.

You both relaxed when you saw that it was the deer that brought you both out here in the first place. You started giggling uncontrollably, scaring the deer away.

Daryl scoffed. “Last time I take ya on a hunt with me, woman.”

You just continued giggling into his chest with the smile that he adored.

[luveline]

Oooooo carmy request: him being jealous of readers friendship w richie cos they re like buddys and he thinks she doesn't like him cos shes not like that w him

—you realise what Carmy wants from you. fem, 1.4k

Richie isn’t technically an upstanding citizen, but he’s a good guy. 

“I’m telling you, sweetheart, you just need to be more aggressive.” 

You’re sitting on a stool behind the counter filling the ketchup and mayonnaise bottles with the huge ones from the walk-in. Richie isn’t doing much of anything, which is fine by you; he’s good entertainment for a shitty job. 

“I don’t want to be more aggressive, I want people to be nicer.” 

“We don’t get what we want,” he mutters. 

You frown expressively. “Aw, baby, we don’t get what we want. You don’t get what you want, huh?” 

“What’s your problem?” he asks, though he laughs brightly. “You’re the fucking baby. You’re not doing that right.” 

You point at your extremely slow drip of ketchup. “No, you think? I know I’m doing it wrong, Richie. Doing it right is a lot of arm effort. Have you seen my arms?” 

“You’ve got muscle.” Richie lifts your arm up by the wrist. “Flex. Flex your arm.” 

“I’m flexing. You can’t see that?” 

“What are you guys doing?” Carmy asks. 

He comes up behind Richie and they’re almost twins. Not in appearance —Carmy’s lighter facially and broader physically— but in stance, their mussed up aprons and the rags on their shoulders a uniform. 

You flex. “Weight training.” 

Richie drops your arm. “I’m showing her how to fill the sauce bottles.” 

“And you didn’t know how to do that?” Carmy asks you. 

“I’m the one that taught Richie.” You absolutely didn’t teach Richie how to do it, that much is obvious. Richie laughs heartily, and Carmy frowns, and you realise that Richie thinks you’re both laughing at Carmy, which isn’t what was happening. Not totally. 

It’s hard to navigate The Beef without Mikey; Carmy is nothing like his brother, and Richie’s an asshole. 

Carmy nods at you. You’re worried his lip is gonna curl like it does when he’s mad and you’re gonna get told to do something you’re uninterested in, but it’s Richie who gets punished. “Can you finish Sydney’s prep?” 

“Why can’t she do it?” 

“Her stomach thing. It’s just onions.” 

Richie wants to argue, but can’t. He’s paid a wage to work. “Fine. But tell Syd I’m not her gopher.” 

Richie saunters away. 

“He’s not her gopher,” you tease when he’s out of earshot, to Carmy’s surprised delight. “God, Carm, don’t you know anything?” 

Your Richie impression isn’t your best. Carmy must enjoy it, still smiling to himself as his attention is turned to the register, where he begins wiping down the keys. 

“Is that really the way to do that?” he asks, gesturing to your sauce bottles. 

You’ve turned the cap upside down, feeding sauce into the bottle one drip at a time. It would be quicker to remove the cap entirely and pour straight from the big bottle, but that sometimes requires three hands, the big jugs are that heavy. 

“Despite what you might think, Carm, I’ve thought it through.” 

“You sure?” 

You could get defensive. When Carmy first took over the restaurant, you thought, What the fuck, Mikey. Leave your shithole restaurant to your world class brother and get your entire roster of staff fired in one fell swoop. But Carmy never fired you, hasn’t cut your hours, doesn’t treat you like an asshole. He is a jerk, that much is certain during busy dinner service, but he has yet to take it too far. (Ish.)

So you won’t defend your laziness, or expect him to like it. You get up from your stool and turn the cap right side up, tapping what’s yet to drip through the spout into the bottle. You set the cap aside, and you uncap the big ketchup to decant sauce until the bottle is full. 

Carmy glances at you from the corner of your eye. He looks at you, looks away again. 

You think he might like you. In the don’t have a choice, grown on him like moss way. He gets cagey when you and Richie are having fun, and he stares altogether too much, but he can be pretty when he’s smiling (or really yelling) and he has nice hands, and nice arms. He has a nice way of saying things. You don’t mind his attention.

There have been worse bosses to want to push you up against a wall. 

Not that you think Carmy could. He whines like a bitch at you for stupid shit, but Carmen Berzatto shoving you into a wall for a rough kiss? That’s never gonna happen. 

And yet… his frown tells a different story. 

“Why do you get so weird about me and Richie?” you ask. 

“I don’t get weird about you and Richie.” 

You open the mayonnaise bottle and set the cap aside. “He’s nicer than you think.” 

“Yeah?” He sounds vaguely depressed, which isn’t uncharacteristic. Seriousness colours his voice with a strange charm. “I’ll take your word for it.” 

“He is, he makes me laugh. He makes sure I eat, he shouts at guys when they’re mean to me.” 

“Who’s mean to you?” 

“Carmy.” You give up on the mayonnaise and wipe your hands down your apron, to his ire. You’d prefer not to smell like egg and oil during this conversation, but it’s better than smelling like burnt chicken, sort of. “Richie’s a nice guy, whether you agree or not.” 

“That’s great, I’m glad he’s so nice to you.” He sounds angry now, but he’s stuck as you are —walking away is losing. 

You really don’t get it. “Is he not supposed to be nice to me?” you ask. 

“He can do what he wants. You can do what you want.”

You laugh, and hope to diffuse the situation with a joke, “Okay, thanks for your permission, Chef.” 

“Fuck off.” 

He sounds less tense, but not fixed. And you might find it harder to keep up with him, constantly wanting to impress him, knowing you can’t, but you’re not out of touch. You aren’t a huge dick. 

Carmy beats you to it. “I was kidding, about the bottles. You can do it how you want.” 

“I wasn’t offended.” 

“But you don’t– with Richie, you– I don’t know what I’m doing wrong with you.” 

You look him up and down, lengths of his arms, tattoos and the cut over his elbow. His clean t-shirt, his neck, the strong line of his nose and his bright eyes. 

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” you say, smiling at him, knowing your expression says lots of weird stuff. 

Working here in the kitchen makes a busy atmosphere normal. Richie’s telling a story at the top of his lungs, Angel’s swearing about a dropped plate, knives scratch on boards and ovens hum. Being overwhelmed is something you’re good at, and big feelings don’t scare you. 

“You’re jealous of Richie?” you ask, playfully pitying. “Get it together.” 

“Fuck off,” he says again. 

“Seriously? Richie Jerimovich. He’s telling Tina a story right now about how the last date he went on ended with her asking if he’d ever been abducted by aliens.” 

“I’m not jealous of Richie.” 

“No, I don’t think you are,” you say, taking a step too close, and refusing to take the step back. 

Carmy doesn’t look mad anymore. 

You wonder if anybody’s ever held his hand. You used to think he must’ve had a ton of girlfriends, he got so famous everywhere he went, but… He looks like he’s never been this close to someone before. Like you’re making him nervous. 

“Me and Richie are friends,” you say quietly. “Is that what you want us to be?” 

His hand twitches at his side. 

“There, cousin, I cut the fucking onions. You happy?” Richie asks, and laughs as he steps back out to the front of house, unaware of the tension. “That’d be the day, right?” 

“Yes, Richie, I’m happy you did your job. Thank you.” 

“Was that hard for you, baby?” you ask Richie with a pout. “Here, let me kiss your poor hands.” 

Richie gives you the bird with both of them. 

You look to Carmy. Making fun of Richie together isn’t quite as good as holding hands, but you hope it’s a start. 

Carmy catches on, can’t hide his grin, “There’s tylenol in the office if you need it, cousin.”  

“Are your wrists feeling tender?” you prompt. “Or is that motion one you’re used to?” 

Carmy laughs and the sound takes on the shape of his smile, nearly giddy. 

“Fuck both of you.” 

[pyrodolls]

YANDERE! RE2 LEON KENNEDY X READER

WARNINGS: stalking, sub leon, ooc leon, slightly nsfw but not smut, leon is a creepy masochist, kidnapping, no use of y/n or name, gender neutral reader, not proofread bc it's 2 am for me rn

SUMMARY: you were never very close to leon, but you harbored some feelings for him. but your entire view on him changes when you get invited to his place and you find out how he truly feels about you...

A/N: remember when i used to be a havik account? good times. also it's been a hot minute since i played re2 so if it's ooc i apologize.

leon thought you looked so pretty in your sleep. you looked completely peaceful and unbothered. your bedsheets covered your entire body except for your ethereal face, which he could stare at all day. the moon provided a dim glow through your window, giving leon a clear view of your entire bedroom while you slept. sure it may be creepy or a bit stalker-ish of leon to watch you sleep, but he couldn't help it! you were just so irresistible. if only you knew how much he loved you, and how he was capable of protecting and providing for you. he has the potential to be the best boyfriend to you. but you didn't even know him that well, and he was fully aware of that fact. so that's why he suddenly got an idea while he watched you sleep that night. it was a brilliant idea. he could invite you to his place and gain your trust! leon didn't want to waste any time, so he would immediately ask you first thing in the morning.

when you woke up that morning, you got a call from leon a few minutes after you got out of bed.

"i know it's a bit early in the morning, i hope you weren't sleeping... if so, i'm really sorry. i mean, i didn't know when to call you because i didn't want to bother you but at the same time i just really wanted to ask you something." leon rambled.

"no worries, leon. you could never bother me. besides, i just got out of bed. this was so perfectly timed, it's almost as if you memorized my sleep schedule." you joked.

"oh, yeah, that's crazy. imagine that," leon chuckled nervously. "um, anyway, i was just thinking... would you like to come over to my place later? i just thought that we know each other a little bit, but i'd like to get to know you more, since i think you're pretty cool and stuff, so, uh, yeah..." he trailed off, waiting for an answer.

upon hearing his proposal, you lit up in excitement. you always thought he was cute and wanted to get to know him, but you were too nervous to make the first move. this was a great opportunity.

leon was nervously fiddling with his fingers as he waited for your response. the longer you took to respond, the more his anxiety grew. he could feel the sweat forming on his skin and his chest tighten. what if you weren't interested in him in that way? was he being too forward? were you too busy?

you took a deep breath before you finally responded, mustering up the courage to say something. "i'll visit in a couple hours. i'll see you then, leon." you responded quickly, hanging up the phone and getting ready to see him.

leon's heart almost jumped out of his chest when you finally responded. he dropped his phone and immediately got to work, cleaning his place and hiding the pictures of you sleeping and your old clothes in a box under his couch.

he worked very hard to tidy everything up, wanting it to be perfect for you. only the best for you.

when he finished cleaning, he sat on the floor in front of his door like a puppy waiting for its owner. he patiently waited for you to knock on the door and come in, even though it would be a couple more hours until you arrived.

after a few hours of leon not moving a single inch, you finally arrived. as soon as your knuckles grazed the door to knock, leon swung it open with superhuman speed.

"thanks for coming! i hope the weather wasn't too harsh on you." leon greeted, stepping aside to let you in. he didn't actually know if the weather was harsh or not, he just said the first thing that came to his mind to start a conversation with you.

"thanks... and uh, the weather isn't bad at all. it's just a bit windy." you responded, awkwardly standing by the door.

leon was trying his hardest to act calm, but his heart was racing and he could feel his palms getting sweatier and sweatier. you were standing right next to him! and you were alone together! he could've just died right then and there. instead of watching you through your window, you're right in front of him! instead of breaking into your house and stealing and sniffing your clothes, he can just smell you right by him! he was in heaven.

for a couple hours, you both spent time together by watching movies and chatting, getting to know each other more and more. leon even ordered dinner for you both, and somehow he got your favorite food, and he claimed it was just intuition. it didn't even feel like hours had passed, since you were both enjoying yourselves.

"so, uh, do you like this movie?" leon awkwardly spoke up, as you both sat on the couch in front of his tv. you simply smiled and nodded, too tired to respond. it was a random film that you weren't familiar with, and you watched it in silence next to him. you were both clearly tired after that long day, but leon didn't want you to leave just yet. so he started awkwardly starting new conversations or asking you questions, hoping to keep your attention on him. he loved the amount of attention you already gave him that day, and he was still giddy that you agreed to visit him in the first place. all he needs to stay happy is for you to look at him. but you were literally sitting on his couch and spending time with him, and it just made him so overwhelmed with joy. it gave him hope that you could work as a couple someday, and you would never know about his unorthodox antics to get to this point.

or at least that's what he thought.

at some point, leon excused himself to the restroom and left you boredly swinging your legs back and forth on the couch. but you felt your leg kick something hard underneath the couch. when you decided to investigate, you found a hidden box. curious as to why it was hidden, you decided to open it and look inside.

big mistake.

you found some old clothes and underwear that you thought you lost, pieces of your hair, various pictures of you sleeping, a few grocery lists and paperwork that you thought you threw away, and even pages ripped out of leon's journal describing his dark fantasies of you. some of it had some mysterious white stains on it. it was disgusting, and it made you sick to look through it. you thought leon was just a cute sweetheart, but it turned out he was a stalker and a creep. you were so shocked, that you didn't know what to do. should you run? call someone? but it was unsafe, because he clearly knew your address and a lot of your personal information. you had no idea what to do, so you stayed frozen in shock.

when leon returned, he saw the horrified look on your face and saw the box in your hands. his heart dropped. you knew his secret.

"shit. oh my god, uh, it's not what you think. i swear, i just, uh, fuck..." leon stammered, dropping down to his knees in shame.

"what the fuck is this? how long have you been stalking me, you fucking creep?" you yelled, standing over his shaking form.

"haah.. i... uh.." leon seemed to be breathing weirdly, and you weren't sure if it was out of anxiety or pleasure.

"and this," you picked up one of the pages from his journal and waved it in front of his face. "what the fuck is this? you are so fucked up... are you in love with me or something? or is it just some weird ass sexual obsession?"

"i.. i do love you! of course i do! this isn't how i wanted you to find out, but i really do love you! please don't take it the wrong way. i don't want to hurt you, i just want to be with you. i want to feel you and- and spend every waking moment of my life with you.. please don't hate me." leon begged, grasping onto your leg pathetically.

"you're sick in the head. and you're nothing but a pathetic stalker." you scoffed. all the trust and affection you had for him went out the window after you opened that box. there was no way he can get your trust back. hell, you were willing to cut contact with him and move to another country at that point.

"fuck... okay, maybe i am.. but, uh... shit." leon struggled to get his words out, as he felt aroused by your degradation. he never thought it would feel so good to have you yell at him. he could barely even speak, it just felt euphoric for you to scold him for his actions. you expected him to panic, but he seemed to have mixed feelings about the situation. he was still horrified that you discovered his dirty secret, but he had stars in his eyes the more you screamed at him.

"oh my god... you're a masochistic freak, huh? you like it when i yell at you? god, you're so fucked up." you spat, grabbing his collar and lifting him up to your level.

leon whimpered at the sudden contact, not responding to your degredation and simply squirming at your touch.

you sighed. "are you going to explain yourself? or are you just going to keep babbling nonsense?"

after getting no response, you dropped him and started to grab your things and leave.

"i.. i love you so much!" leon blurted out. "please don't leave! i promise, i can make it up to you! i'll do whatever you want! i can uh... i can provide for you! you won't have to lift a single finger for the rest of your life! and uh... i can cook and clean! sort of. i'll learn how to take care of you. i'll show you that i can be a good boyfriend if you let me! please, just love me! i did all these things for you and i promise i will stop if you want me to! please, don't leave."

leon stood in front of the door and desperately held you in place, not wanting to let you leave.

if you chose to stay, leon would be overjoyed. he would keep his promise and make it up to you, spending the rest of his life protecting you from harm and doing anything to keep you happy. your well-being is his number one priority, he'd make himself look like a fool if it meant getting a smile out of you. just let him love you. you don't need to give him anything in return!

if you chose to leave, leon would be a sobbing, sulking mess for about an hour or two before he decided on what to do. he still had all of your information. he knew pretty much everything about you. he would probably do something to force you into being with him, such as faking your death and kidnapping you. you have nobody else now. you have to be with leon now. he is the only one that still loves you and will keep you happy. even if you're mad at him now, he has hope that someday you will warm up to him and be willing to have a relationship with him. he'll wait patiently for that day to come.

[originalartblog]

"Nawy what do you MEAN quick-ish 3D render it's got scratches and everything and I thought this was real for a minute!!"

Well, first, thank you very much that was the intention ❤, and second, you see, all speed is relative, and between finding my references, modeling, texturing and lighting, on top of having to learn how to make convincing gems, it still took me quite a few hours. I, however, cut corners everywhere for speed, and I wouldn't put this piece in a portfolio in its current state.

But! for the curious, I thought I could do a simple breakdown of how the witchcraft happens, without using too much specialized language to make it more accessible. In short,

In this case, I’m talking about a 3D model that was textured (colours and stuff) and then lit (lights on!) to make a pretty final picture. The objective is not to make a tutorial, but to put in simple terms what a 3D artist does to make something go from this, to that:

(people curious and/or trying to see if this interests them welcome)

I'm skipping the 3D modeling part altogether, since it isn't where most of the magic happens here. Just know that to be able to add colour and stuff on a 3D object, you have to go through the process or "unwrapping" it, which is like doing those foldable cubes in reverse

and then we can draw on it!!

Now, the good stuff:

Surfaces (metal, plastic, fabric, wood, skin, etc.) have different looks that make you able to differentiate them on sight. To make something look realistic, you have to try to replicate real life into the 3D world (duh.)

The software developers took care of the hard part (math and coding), so as artists we can play with the parameters available to make something pretty. What those parameters are depend on which "recipe" we're using. One of the most common "recipes" for realistic results is called PBR: Physically Based Rendering, named that way because it's trying to replicate real-life light physics. In this case, the 4 basic parameters are called albedo, roughness, metalness, and normal.

Albedo is the base colour of the surface (easy stuff). Roughness is to determine if a surface is rough or shiny. Metalness is to say if something is made out of metal or not. The normal is there to add all those tiny details you don't want to or can't sculpt on your 3D model (engravings, fabric bumps, etc.)

The roughness and metalness are black and white images because the information you're giving to the software is black = no and white = yes. It's easier to understand in the metalness image, where everything that is NOT a metal is black, and everything that IS a metal is white.

The normal is a bit more complex, but in short, it uses the colours green and red to know what is up/down or left/right, and will help the software fake relief on top of the model. You don't make it by hand; it's computer-generated from other stuff I'm not getting into.

With the technical stuff out of the way, we can actually use these. There are specialized softwares that will let you preview the results of each parameter in real time, so you can see what you're doing easily. This is what I have.

That software comes with some types of surfaces that are already set up, like the fabric in my piece, which was already 85% good for me straight out of the box. Then, it's up to me to use the tools available to decide how shiny a surface is, if there's dust or scratches and where, what colours things are, if there's metal parts, etc. That's where you can see a 3D artist's skills.

And finally, you bring it all together into a specialized software that can render 3D stuff and use those images on the corresponsing parameters, and then light the scene.

Because it all comes down to this: the light! For something realistic, light is vital to get right. You can pour your heart and soul into those tiny scratches, but if you don't light the scene correctly, well...

So we carefully light the scene to get some nice highlights to make the textures look good and highlight our subject (it's basically a photography studio inside a computer)

And then we add some camera effects...

and voilà! pretty picture!!

... and if you somehow did notice something different with the bolo tie from my last post, I did find out while taking all these screenshots that I messed up my initial renders in a way that made everything darker than it was supposed to be and that's why my gold looked so muddy...

I hope this was interesting and that you learned a thing or two!

[rayesgenesis]

jealousy, jealousy. — b.f

a/n: a one shot. what better than a one shot!

who? ben florian x fem!reader

it had to stop. someone had to do something to stop this. this girl whose name you didn’t even know had been chatting up ben for a little over 10 minutes now. five minutes too much, in your opinion.

you could see everything play out from the lockers, where you were standing. her touching his arm and laughing extra hard at anything he said. she really couldn’t have made it more obvious. and you guessed that ben, being the sweetheart that he is, didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

you knew full well that he made sure she knew that he had a girlfriend and still, she acted like the boundary was nonexistant. you just had to shut it down.

you had been clearing your throat so much in the last five minutes that lonnie, looking for her stuff in her locker next to yours, became increasingly worried about your health. if it wasn’t for her asking if you were okay, you wouldn’t have pushed yourself off of your locker and went to deal with the problem yourself.

you tried to control your breathing on your way over to them. okay y/n, you can't freak out in front of them. don’t freak out. don’t freak out. don’t-

"hi baby" you came up behind ben with the softest tone and your arm snaking its way around his waist. you did not acknowledge her once of course.

"y/n!" ben looked down at you and you could feel her eyes on you as his arm came around your shoulders. ben’s hand waved towards the girl as to introduce her. "i don’t think you two have met yet. y/n, this is nadia. nadia, this is y/n. my girlfriend."

you reluctantly took your eyes off of his face and acknowledged her with raised eyebrows. as if you hadn’t been staring at her for the past 10 minutes or so.

"ohhh, so she is the girlfriend. don’t worry, i’ve heard only great things about you. it’s really nice to finally meet you." she said with a fakeness that was typically communicated between auradon princesses. you succeded in letting a small smile seep through the tight lines that your lips formed.

"nadia is replacing jane as head of the party planning commitee while she’s away." ben clarified.

"right, well it’s nice to meet you too." before your eye started to twitch, you brought your eyes back to your boyfriend’s face.

"i came to take you up on your offer of helping me with maths." you murmured close to ben’s ear and with a snarky smile. "we can go to my dorm if you want? evie won’t be there for another two hours." ben cleared his throat and his ears went a pink-ish color. you were having trouble keeping your smirk to yourself.

"right uhh, bella, can we talk later?" he spat out with a breathless voice.

"absolutely. yeah, we’ll talk later." you didn’t even let her mutter out something about how nice it was seeing you since you turned around without paying her another thought.

you were sitting on the edge of ben’s bed looking at him getting ready. he was looking at himself in the large body mirror and as he reached for his tie you stood up.

"i can tie it for you if you want.." you said as you stood right behind him while looking at him in the mirror. ben smiled at you through the mirror.

"yeah..yeah that would be nice. thanks. my hands are a bit shaky right now." he let out a nervous chuckle and you turned so you’d face him.

"i know i noticed. if it’s because of that council meeting, i’m telling you, you have nothing to worry about. they won’t have a choice but to accept your proposition. it’s a well rounded project. " you tried to ease his stress as best as you could.

"you’re right." he sighed softly. "i’m just worried they’ll think my ideas are too unrealistic, you know. i want to prove that i can handle it." his shoulders relaxed a bit, like a weight physically got lifted off of him.

you finished tying his tie and looked up at him through your eyelashes only to find him looking right back down at you. your hands went to his shoulders and his own came on top of them.

"i know you’re going to do great because your ideas are great. you are great, ben. they’ll see it sooner than later." you nodded positively, making sure he understood that you meant every word.

a small smile played on ben’s lips as his hand came to hold your chin and brought your lips closer to his. your lips were about to touch when you heard a knock on the door.

you sighed. "if that’s doug again, i’m kicking his butt all the way back to charmington." ben snorted as he went to open the door.

"ben, hi! i was hoping to find you here." you secretly hoped it wasn’t who you thought it was. her voice irritated you greatly. so cheerful and for what, it was 10 am on a thursday.

"nadia…what’s up?" there was your confirmation. that girl wouldn’t back out in front of anything, it seemed. you crossed your arms and scoffed to yourself while shaking your head. then you stepped to the side so you could see her better.

"we actually need your input on some of the activities for the spring festival back at the commitee, and i thought i’d come here to get you." ben opened his mouth to answer but no words came out. he looked back at you and nadia acknowledged you.

"y/n! i didn’t see you there!" you only waved your hand with a polite smile. ben returned to nadia.

"sure, let me just get my keys." you were annoyed. you knew that this was a temporary arrangement so you didn’t want to get too upset, but it still bugged you.

ben came to you and paused with his hand on your back, and a look in his eyes looking for confirmation that you were okay. you looked back at him and offered him a small smile. his eyes lowered to your lips as he squeezed your arm and started to walk away before you grabbed him back by the arm.

"ben wait, you forgot something."

with that, you held the back of his head with your hands and kissed him deeply. you really wished you had kept at least one eye open to see nadia’s reaction.

"for good luck." you managed to get out with a breathy voice. he cleared his throat and you waved both of them goodbye as they left.

you shouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.