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lovetwist · 8 months ago

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Veil of Deception (I)

SYNOPSIS: In a world where political alliances are forged in blood and treachery lurks around every corner, you find yourself thrust into marriage with Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen. Born to be his perfect mate, you grapple with the terrifying prospect of becoming entangled with a man known for his brutality, obsession, and madness. As your union unfolds, you navigate a landscape of deception and dark desires, struggling to find your footing in a marriage fraught with danger and uncertainty. Caught between duty and defiance, summon your strength and resilience to survive in a world where loyalty is a luxury and love is a dangerous game.

WARNINGS (R18+): mildly dub-con, smut, first time, weapons kink, mentions of violence, manipulations, genetic breeding, power play

Word Count: 3.5k

PART 2

Below the towering spires of obsidian and steel, against a backdrop of opulent extravagance that flaunted wealth and power, a tension hung heavy, pregnant with the promise of destiny.

As Lady Atreides, sole daughter of Leto Atreides, you stood poised on the precipice of a meeting that would shape the course of your future. Your heart seized with nerves as you awaited the arrival of your betrothed.

Since your 15th name day, you had known of your engagement to the na-Baron. It was an inescapable fate predetermined by the Bene Geserrit. Your mother, Lady Jessica, had gone against them by giving birth to Paul, a male heir for Leto. Two years later, she gave birth to you – a gift of compromise for both sides. In return, Lady Jessica and Leto achieved the familial harmony they wanted, through the sacrifice of their daughter.

Every year, the Harkonnens requested your portrait to be sent along with a lock of hair. In exchange, they sent House Atreides jewels, gold, silks, and spice; disguised bribes for the upkeep of such a fine lady. They had only sent a portrait of Feyd-Rautha once. It was taken during his coming-of-age ceremony, a lean young man dressed in black fighting leathers. You stared often at the picture, looking to find some clue that could reveal his character. His demeanor was unnaturally cold and collected, yet his dark eyes barely concealed a burning rage. You wondered if Feyd-Rautha poured over you pictures as you did his.

Years passed and the engagement felt more like a false formality than reality. Unlike other noble families, you never exchanged letters with Feyd-Rautha or even met as a courtesy. Having completed your Bene Geserrit training under your mother, you learned that such things did not matter when it came to pairings arranged by the Reverand Mother. You caught whispers of conversation between your mother and her Bene Geserrit sisters. There would be no chance of failure, this union would be perfect. You were genetically engineered to be his absolute mate. Attraction and physical compatibility was assured. Everything about you was designed to lure him in – your scent, your voice, your everything was to be his undoing from the moment he would lay eyes on you.

Yet the thought gave you no confidence as you stood here now in Giedi Prime. Sexual attraction differed greatly from love, he didn’t need emotions to breed you. Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic scion of House Harkonnen, was a man followed by countless stories of brutality and wickedness. You heard that he laughed when Reverand Mother subjected him to the Gom Jabbar. He didn’t endure pain, he reveled in it.

Your palms grew clammy, breath becoming increasingly shallow as you pondered the dark fate that awaited you in the form of this formidable man. Would Feyd-Rautha be the embodiment of all the whispered sin that had reached your ears, or would he prove to be an enigma beyond your wildest imaginings? With each passing moment, the anticipation mounted, weaving a delicate web of uncertainty around your heart as your braced yourself to meet the man who held your destiny in his hands.

The grand doors of the chamber swung open with a regal flourish, your heart quickened its pace, echoing the rhythm of anticipation that thrummed through the air. Through the gray haze of incense, you beheld Feyd-Rautha, a vision of masculinity and charisma, whose presence seemed to command the very essence of the room. His eyes met yours across the expanse of the chamber, a charged moment filled with unspoken tension, as if the universe itself held its breath in anticipation of this meeting.

You were ensnared in a tempest of conflicting emotions, thoughts swirling like sand caught in a desert storm. You questioned your own composure, wondering if you could maintain the facade of confidence expected of a lady of House Atreides in the presence of the young Harkonnen and the terrifying Baron. Feyd-Rautha may be your future husband, but he was not required to provide you a good nor happy life. After all, why would he? You were the daughter of his family’s sworn enemy. He may have been bound in marriage to you by centuries of bloodline manipulation, but he maintained a free will.

Would his words falter, betraying the tumult and hatred raging within him? Or would he summon the grace and poise befitting his station, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface? Your apprehension mounted, a symphony of doubt and fear playing out in the recesses of your mind. Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a glimmer of determination flickered like a distant star on the horizon, urging you forward into the unknown with a quiet resolve born of necessity.

For in the labyrinthine dance of politics and power that defined their world, you knew that you could ill afford to falter now. With a steadying breath, you squared your shoulders and prepared to face your destiny, whatever form it may take in the guise of a madman husband.

Feyd-Rautha, with an air of effortless confidence, strode forward, his gaze a smoldering ember that ignited a spark within your soul. In that fleeting moment, as your paths converged amidst the darkness and mist of the surroundings, you felt a surge of something unfamiliar yet undeniable—an electric current that crackled between your bodies, binding your fates together inextricably.

Words eluded you as you struggled to articulate the wave of emotions that threatened to consume you. Yet, in the silence that stretched between you two, you found solace in the understanding that this meeting was but the first step on a journey fraught with uncertainty and possibility. He bowed without taking his eyes off you. In greeting, you extended a gloved hand, Feyd-Rautha grasped it with a firm sense of resolve. You knew that your lives were now intertwined in ways neither could fully comprehend nor stop.

And in that moment, amidst the hazy dream of your shared future, you glimpsed the faintest flicker of something akin to desire dance across his eyes. You noticed a dilation of his pupils as he laid a kiss on the back of your hand. Then, his grasp of you tightened and tightened. Your face contorted in pain as a crooked smirk appeared on his features.

In the dim light of the chamber, your eyes traced the contours of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips, searching for traces of the young man you once memorized in a portrait. Yet, try as you might, only a beast stood before you in the guise of a gentleman. When he stood at his full height with his darkened leer, you held yourself back from cowering. His gaze was vicious, his smile vulgar with blackened teeth, and he exuded an air of savagery.

“How delightful it is to finally meet you, Lady Atreides.”

His deep, raspy voice caught you off guard. What a performer he could be! Long gone was the ethereal allure he displayed when first entering the room, now you could see him for what he was.

“Likewise, my Lord Feyd-Rautha.”

Uncertainty lingered like a specter in the room, casting a pall over the impending union that would bind you with him. You let your gaze lower onto the floor as your parents approached to talk with the Baron and na-Baron.

You could feel his intense gaze burning through your body even as you moved away to be with your brother. Could his eyes pierce through your facade, unraveling the intricacies of your soul like fine thread? Such questions gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, casting shadows on your will to remain strong.

As the evening progressed, the tension in the air thickened like a fog, suffocating any semblance of ease. Seated at the long banquet table surrounded by your family, the Harkonnens, and noble guests, you found yourself ensnared in a delicate dance of propriety and peril.

Across from you, Feyd-Rautha lounged in his seat, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he watched you with unabashed fascination. His demeanor was that of a predator toying with its prey, his every movement calculated to instill a sense of discomfort. Your family would leave to Arrakis after the wedding festivities, then you would be truly left alone with him. The precariousness of your position tugged at your heart.

As the meal commenced, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the strained chatter of polite conversation. You forced yourself to engage in small talk with those seated around you, your words measured and careful, lest you betray the fear that coiled like a serpent in the pit of your stomach.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of composure, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized by those dark, probing eyes. It was as if Feyd-Rautha could see straight through you, peeling away the layers of pretense to expose your most secret vulnerabilities. You found yourself growing increasingly unsettled. You longed to escape, to retreat to the safety of your chambers and away from the suffocating presence of the Harkonnen heir.

But you knew that there would be no reprieve, no sanctuary from the darkness that had descended upon your life like a shadow. For tonight, and every night thereafter, you were bound to him by the cruel machinations of fate, condemned to walk a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. And as you raised your glass to Feyd-Rautha’s toast to your impending union, you couldn't help but wonder what horrors awaited you.

“To the most beautiful bride in the world, I will certainly savor tomorrow’s…memories.”

The men at the table chuckled darkly while your father’s and brother’s jaws clenched. You lay your delicate hand over theirs, do not mourn me. If I am to die, I shall do so with honor.

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As your mother lowered your veil, you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You never thought you’d live to see the day the impenetrable Lady Jessica shed tears for you. I must really be walking into my death, you thought.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. There were no words to describe the vision you saw. Crafted from the finest silk and satin, your wedding gown exuded an air of majestic elegance with flowing skirts cascading like waves of moonlight around your figure.

The bodice, adorned with intricate beadwork and delicate lace, hugged your curves with a tailored precision, accentuating a slender waist and graceful neckline. A row of tiny diamonds trailed down your body, gleaming against the smooth expanse of your back. While the front of the dress was conservative, your back was tastefully exposed through a combination of sheer silk, diamonds and pearls.

Your hair was pinned neatly into a bun with a delicate braid on each side. The veil was gauzy, making your face seem like a daydream. The ivory fabric of your dress pooled at your feet in a sea of frothy tulle and satin, forming a train that trailed behind you like a regal cloak. The wedding dress was embroidered with delicate motifs of growing vines, mountains and ocean waves – a reminder of Caladan.

At your collar, a border of intricate lacework added a touch of timeless elegance, its patterns catching the light in a dazzling display of shimmering beauty. With every movement, the gown seemed to whisper tales of romance and splendor, a clear hope to the love and devotion the seamstress had prayed you’d find. You choked down a sob.

You’ve made me an angel for him to ruin.

The wedding hall was adorned with such grandeur, you’d expect the emperor’s daughter was getting married instead. The flickering silver torches cast dancing shadows upon the ebony stone walls. As guests gathered in hushed reverence, the air crackled with anticipation, as if the very walls themselves whispered of your impeding damnation.

At the front of the hall, beneath a canopy of arched black silk, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stood, an imposing figure in his ceremonial garb. His porcelain skin was stark against the darkness of his clothes as he awaited his bride.

You approached with measured steps, hardening your grip on your father’s arm. Your eyes must’ve betrayed your fear and resignation because you could see Feyd-Rautha biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh.

As you reached the altar, his lips curled into a predatory smile, his voice dripping with malice as he spoke the vows that bound you together in unholy matrimony. The words echoed through the hall like a curse, sealing your fate alongside his.

As you exchanged rings, a union forged in the fires of despair, you vowed that though your body may be bound to Feyd-Rautha, your spirit would remain forever free.

Standing before him, you felt the weight of his gaze like chains around your soul.

With a solemn nod from the officiant, you and Feyd-Rautha were instructed to seal your union with a kiss. He removed your veil, his eyes lingering on your face. As his lips met yours, a shiver ran down your spine.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, but devoid of love. You gasped when his tongue entered your mouth. It was a macabre dance of dominance and submission, a twisted mockery of affection that left a bitter taste upon your lips. You try to push him away, but he holds your hands firm against his chest. The Harkonnens roar with applause and laughter. As you pulled away, a sense of profound emptiness washed over you, a hollow echo of the dreams and desires that had once burned within your heart.

The rest of the wedding banquet was a blur. As you were led to the high table by Feyd-Rautha's side, you couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, ensnared in a web of malevolence. The guests, mostly Harkonnen allies, noble families, and sycophants, feigned smiles and exchanged whispers, their eyes gleaming with a perverse curiosity at the spectacle of your union.

The feast itself was a decadent display of excess, with platters of exotic delicacies and goblets overflowing with rich wines. But the opulence only served to accentuate the suffocating atmosphere, as the room was closing in on you with each additional piece of ornate furniture.

Feyd-Rautha, ever the consummate host, played his part with calculated charm, his laughter ringing hollow in your ears as he regaled the guests with tales of conquest and murder. You watched him from across the table, his features twisted in a mask of false benevolence, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of revulsion mingled with a sliver of pity. He, too, was playing a part – ever the performer.

Throughout the banquet, you were subjected to the leering gazes and whispered innuendos of the Harkonnen cronies, their crude remarks slicing through the thin veneer of civility like daggers. But you held your composure, steeling yourself against their taunts and jeers, refusing to let them see the cracks in your mask.

As the night wore on and the wine flowed freely, the mood grew increasingly raucous, the revelry descending into a frenzied ecstasy. You found yourself adrift in a sea of faces, each one a grotesque caricature of humanity, their laughter and applause a cruel mockery of your predicament.

And amidst the chaos and debauchery, you couldn't help but wonder what was in store for you, chained to a man whose heart was as black as midnight. As you absentmindedly finished your last sip of wine, Feyd-Rautha stood suddenly, his chair loudly rattling against the granite floors. A chilling silence descended upon the hall.

He extended a hand towards you and you immediately understood his intentions. You departed the hall, hand-in-hand as men watched with envy and women stared with pity. You couldn’t bear to look at the faces of your family, afraid that you might beg them to take you home.

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As you left the banquet hall with Feyd-Rautha, a heavy sense of foreboding settled over you. The echoes of the evening's macabre festivities lingered in your mind, each laughter, each lewd jest, a reminder of the gilded cage in which you now found yourself imprisoned.

You walked beside Feyd-Rautha, his grip firm upon your hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen estate. There was an eerie stillness in the air. With each step, you felt the weight of your predicament pressing down upon you, the reality of your situation sinking in like a cold, unyielding truth.

You stole a glance at Feyd-Rautha, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Occasionally fireworks would alight by the window, allowing you to see his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that made you look away immediately.

As you walked in silence, your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and emotions, a storm raging within you. You couldn't help but wonder what awaited in the bedchamber. You weren’t ignorant to the act of consummating a marriage, but your husband was no ordinary man. What horrors lay in store for a woman bound to a man as cruel and cunning as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen… what would satisfy a man like him? But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a flicker of desire burned within you, a stubborn resolve to claim him as much as he claims you.

He led you into a large room with double doors. Compared to the gaudy decorations of the wedding hall, this room was relatively simple: a chamber of dark elegance and understated grandeur. There were only the bare necessities required of a bedroom, but each piece had been impeccably handmade with the most exquisite of materials. At its center, a massive four-poster bed stands as the focal point, its frame crafted from polished ebony wood, intricately carved with motifs of serpents and ivy. Perfectly sized above the bed, stretching over the ceiling was pure reflective glass. You swallowed thickly, this man had no shame.

A grand chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling, its crystals casting prismatic rays of light across the room, illuminating the space with a haunting allure.

The walls are lined with dark, navy paneling, adorned sparingly with antique tapestries depicting scenes of forgotten battles and dangerously sharpened weapons. A sleek, black writing desk sits nearby, stacked with books on war strategies and adorned with quill and parchment.

A sense of regal simplicity pervades the space, each element carefully curated to its master. This is a sanctuary of solitude, where one can retreat from the heaviness of the Harkonnen world and immerse themselves in the embrace of peace.

Busy admiring the room, you didn’t notice Feyd-Rautha locking the doors behind you. You tensed when you suddenly felt the coldness of a blade against your back. With one precise slice, he cut your wedding dress open leading all the decorative pearls to fall to the ground. Your hands instinctively went to cover yourself, but his newfound grip on your wrists was even faster.

“You are mine now, pet.” His hands slowly guided yours down as he ripped away the rest of your dress. “Do not resist me, I want to see you in all your beauty.”

Your face flushed as you looked away from him. You knew objecting to his wish was futile, perhaps if you appeased him then he’d be gentler. You learned this was a useless thought the moment you saw his expression – raw, animalistic hunger chipped away at the edges of his sanity. His pupils dilated so wide that his eyes became monochromatic orbs of obsidian.

He removed his own clothes with swift and lithe movements, revealing pure sculpted muscle. Through the rapid rise and fall of his chest, you could see that he was barely holding back his lust. Feyd-Rautha was going to devour you without leaving a single morsel for the world.

“I-I… If you hurt me, I will scream.”

“Go ahead, it’ll only stroke my ego if you do. Scream loud enough for the whole banquet to hear. Let them know what pleasures your husband bestows upon you.”

With each step he took towards you, you took two steps back. When you felt the bed come into contact with the back of your knees, you realize you’ve been trapped.

“Lie down.” he commanded.

Sensing the tonal shift in his voice, you obeyed. You felt his long, slender fingers enter your most intimate place. When he curved against your inner wall, you let out an involuntarily moan – which he quickly swallowed from your lips. You had touched yourself before, but only rarely during occasions when you couldn’t sleep and the moon was hanging high.

However, this was different – he was different. His fingers reached places where yours never could. Your body made lewd sounds as he pumped in and out of you with torturous speed. The way you grind against his hand was indecent, but he rewarded you with such sweet friction. Hearing his low pants against your ear, you couldn't help but writhe into his touch. When you came undone, he smirked and licked your essence from his fingers.

Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you again; caging you between his toned arms. He reached out to grasp your chin before roughly crashing his lips down on yours. The kiss was all-consuming, he was drinking in every part of you without letting you breathe. Your eyes wandered down to where his member stood unnaturally stiff and enlarged. Your new husband sneered at your expression before his right hand circled around your throat.

“Your throat… it shall be my axis tonight.”

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puckinghischier · 5 months ago

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Falling

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader gets hurt and nico is worried about her

notes: y’all i ain’t gonna lie, i went through a bit of a rollercoaster while writing this. i loved it at first, then halfway through started hating it, then somehow started loving it again towards the end. so if it seems a little all over place i’m sorry. also i know very little about how a dislocated shoulder works, so just pretended i didn’t if i got anything wrong. i hope y’all enjoy it!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “A hears that B got hurt and rushes over in a panic to see if they are okay” where reader maybe gets in an accident or gets hurt in their sport (nothing major). Bonus points if you add “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”

[4.5k]

part 2

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s broken, just a nasty dislocation,” you attempt to calm your mother’s nerves, trying to unlock your apartment door with your good arm while balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. “They reset it for me and told me to follow up with my primary care on Monday. Gave me some pain meds and sent me on my way.”

“Well, what about until then? What if you need help? What about work? How will you drive?” she rapid fires questions at you.

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Since it was a work-related injury, I’ll still get paid. And they’re paying all of the medical bills, so that’s all taken care of,” you make your way into your apartment, shutting the door with your foot behind you. “Everything else I’ll handle as it comes.”

She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, tsking into her phone, making you picture her trademark displeased headshake.

“What about Nico? Why don’t you stay with him until you’re back to 100%? I’m sure he’d be willing to help out,” she suggests, her tone switching from worried to suggestive.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed.

“Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, Nico and I are just friends. We work together. Just because you think you saw him look at me a certain way when you were visiting doesn’t mean I have to call him every time something goes wrong,” you tell her, placing your bag on your kitchen table.

Ever since your mom came in a few months ago to visit, she’s been on your case about making a move on Nico, it all starting when she witnessed Nico helping you across the ice during a pre-game practice while trying to get some action shots.

You work as a photographer for the Devils, not realizing that being able to ice skate would have been a nice addition to your resume.

Your college advisor arranged the interview for you right before graduation. You had no previous knowledge of hockey, having come from a football family. You told your advisor this, but she insisted you didn’t have to know anything about a sport to be able to take good pictures of it.

During the interview, you made sure to inform your now boss that you didn’t know how to skate, hoping it wouldn’t be a problem. He assured you that you could take pictures from the stands or the players bench, the chance of you having to step onto the ice slim.

For the first few months of your job, it was smooth sailing. You were mostly taking pictures from the camera holes in the glass or being told to cover locker room and arrival pictures. You worked with one other photographer, a seasoned sports photography veteran named Phil. Phil was a New Jersey native, having grown up skating, so he took over the duties of any major action shots the director wanted from on the ice.

Unfortunately for you, Phil’s wife had convinced him to retire early, losing his help right before the league’s short Christmas break.

Seeing as they had just hired you, and it was the middle of the season, the hunt for a replacement for Phil was put on the backburner, more important team matters taking precedence.

You were forced to take over Phil’s duties, meaning you were now responsible for any on the ice shots. You had found a way to slowly scoot across the perimeter of the rink, staying out of the way while also getting the shots you needed.

Your system was working well until the morning of a gameday, having gotten permission from your boss to bring your mother along to this particular practice, wanting to show her all aspects of your job.

For this particular game, the players were especially focused on practicing their skills and running drills during morning skate. You were doing your typical shuffle while clutching the edge of the waist-high wall when someone came zooming past you, causing your feet to start sliding uncontrollably, not being able to find your footing on the slick ice.

You felt the moment you were about to fall, waiting for the impact of your butt on the cold ice, but it never came. You felt yourself fall into a body covered by plastic pads, gloved hands shooting out to grab your upper arms.

You looked up, seeing Nico smiling down at you in amusement.

“It’s a bit slippery out here, huh?” he jokes, making sure you’re standing steady on your feet before letting go of you.

“Well, we are standing on ice, so….” You trail off, grabbing onto the wooden ledge again, preventing another near fall.

Nico laughs, looking down and shuffling his skates back and forth.

“Well would you look at that? We are on ice ” He flashes a smile, looking back up at you.

You stick your tongue out at him, earning another chuckle from the team’s Captain.

“You know, most people use these great things called ice skates when they try to walk on ice,” he tells you, lifting one skate up for emphasis.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff out a “Oh wow, why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“Just some food for thought,” Nico shrugged as he placed his foot back down on the ice, skating in a little circle, as if to say “See, told you so.”

You let go of the ledge to cross your arms, forgetting that you needed the stability. When you try to shift your weight from one leg to the other, you lose your footing again, this time falling forward into Nico. You let the camera in your hands fall, grabbing onto his biceps to stay upright, thankful for the camera strap around your neck.

His hands shoot out to grab your forearms.

“You know the sad thing is, even with the skates, I’d still be as clumsy, considering I have absolutely no idea how to use them,” you tell him, the two of you still holding on to one another.

Nico shakes his head at you, placing one of your hands on his forearm, moving you from in front of him to beside of him.

He starts slowly skating towards the bench while you shuffle your feet along, putting all of your focus on keeping yourself upright until you reach your destination.

When you finally reach the bench, you step off of the ice and let out a breath of relief.

“Thanks, Cap. Would’ve hated to make a fool of myself out there while my mom’s watching,” you thank him, looking over to where your mom sits, a smile on her face.

Nico follows your gaze and waves to your mom, matching her smile.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? What if she found out her daughter was a skating fraud?” he teases, leaning in to whisper the last two words.

“It’s her fault for never taking me to the rink my town would throw up once a year at Christmas. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been a skating prodigy if given the chance,” you shrug.

A mischievous smile makes its way onto his face. “I think we should put that theory to the test,” he tells you, causing your eyes to latch onto his.

“Come again?” You raise your eyebrows and tilt your chin down.

“I mean, I can’t have some photographer out on my ice during practices that can’t even stand up,” he keeps his tone light, making sure you know he’s just teasing, “So, I’m going to teach you how to skate, and see if you really would have been a skating prodigy.”

He skates off, winking before resuming his practice.

You don’t have a chance to speak to him again until after the game, when you get at text from an unknown number reading “Rink, tomorrow, 2pm. I’ll bring skates, just bring your prodigy skills.”

After that, you meet with Nico twice a week for skating lessons.

The two of you quickly form a friendship, Nico bringing you coffee on gamedays and you slipping him snacks on the bench during games. You even started inviting him over for dinner after your lessons, insisting the least you can do is feed him to repay him for preventing you from making a fool of yourself on the ice.

Today, however, you did make a fool of yourself on the ice.

You were standing behind the net, telling the players to skate towards you so you could get some shots for the team’s Instagram account by request of the social media manager.

Once you were pleased with the amount of shots you had gotten, you left your spot from behind the net, skating slowly towards the benches, still a little wobbly on your skates.

You were looking down at your camera, thinking of how you’ll have to get Nico out here after the game to get some shots, knowing he’s currently doing pre-game interviews in the locker room.

You weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the pucks littering the ice in front of you, skating right into one and losing your balance, holding your camera up with one arm while trying to catch yourself with the other.

You felt the way your shoulder shifted, crying out in pain as players turned and started rushing towards you on the ice.

The team doctor came out and told you he was pretty sure your shoulder was simply dislocated, but sent you to the hospital to make sure nothing’s broken.

The ER doctor confirmed your diagnosis, putting your shoulder back into place before pumping you full of pain meds and placing your arm into a sling.

Which leads you to where you are now, back at your apartment, explaining to your mother why Nico can’t be at your beck and call.

“Honey, when are you going to realize that boy is in love with you? I’m telling you, the way I saw him look at you that day I came to visit, the skating lessons and dinners,” she starts, giving you her typical speech when you tell her Nico is just a friend.

“Mom, it doesn’t matter what you think you saw, we’re seriously just friends. And he’s busy, his schedule is too hectic to spend his time babysitting me,” you interrupt her, not wanting to hear her Nico speech for the thousandth time, regretting ever telling her about the skating lessons.

She sighs into the phone.

“I’m just trying to help you, you know…” you hear your mother start, but you tune the rest of her words out, focusing on the three loud knocks on your front door.

Your head turns to your door, the unexpected noise causing you to jump, the sudden motion tipping your bag over, the contents spilling all of your kitchen floor.

“Honey, are you alright? What was that?” your mom halts her one-sided conversation, worry in her tone.

“Shit!” you exclaim, watching the container of memory cards fly open, the small squares sliding across the linoleum floor.

You forget about the sling on your arm, crouching down and trying to reach for the cards with your bad arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder at the movement.

Letting out a loud yelp, you bring your arm back to its resting positing in the sling.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?” you barely hear your mother’s voice through the phone speaker, not being able to think about anything other than the throbbing pain in your shoulder.

You hear three more pounds on your front door, this time a voice following the knocks.

“Y/N! Open up!”

You groan, trying to stand up, too many people trying to get your attention at the moment.

“Honey, talk to me. Is someone in there with you? I heard another voice,” your mother asks you as you stand, making your way over towards your front door.

“Someone’s knocking on the door,” you grit through your teeth, trying to think about anything but the pain in your shoulder. “I dropped my bag and tried to pick something up with my bad arm. I’m fine. Just hurts,” you tell her, opening your door to see a frantic Nico standing there.

His wide eyes scan your body, stopping once they see the sling on your arm.

You notice his wet hair and lack of socks on his tennis shoe covered feet.

“Are you okay? They told me you had to be taken to the hospital before the game started, but no one knew what really happened,” he rushed out, looking up at your face.

“Hey, Mom, gotta go, Nico’s at my door,” you tell her, a little stunned that the object of your conversation just appeared, hanging up the phone before she could make any comments about it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you ask him, pointing towards his feet, an amused smile on your face. The shock of seeing him at your door making you completely forget about the pain in your shoulder.

Nico looks down at his own feet, looking back up at you with red cheeks.

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t find my socks after the game and i couldn’t get you to answer your phone, so I rushed over to the hospital to see if you were still there, and they told me you left about an hour ago, so I hopped in my car and came over here to make sure you were okay,” he tells you, not meeting your eye.

You’re shocked at his confession, not expecting him to be so concerned about your impromptu trip to the hospital.

“Well, I’m here and still standing,” you awkwardly stand in your doorway, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how if you weren’t arguing with your mom over Nico on the phone, you might have gotten his calls.

“Yeah, I see that now,” he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

The two of you stand there, not really knowing what to say to one another.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask him, moving out of the doorway to let him step into your apartment.

Nico shakes his head yes and walks past you, looking towards the mess on the floor in your kitchen.

“What happened here? Is this the crash I heard?” he asks you.

“Yeah, the bag fell and spilled everything. When I went to pick it up, I forgot and used my bad shoulder,” you gesture to your slinged arm.

Nico shakes his head at you, crouching down to pick up the camera disks all over the floor.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-“

“Well you’re sure as hell not trying to pick them up again,” Nico interrupts you, standing and placing the now full box of disks on your table.

You roll your eyes at him, walking over towards your fridge.

“So, what exactly happened? Jack told me you hurt your shoulder?” he follows you over to your fridge, watching you scan its contents, or lack thereof.

“Well, I was looking at my camera and skated right into a bunch of pucks on the floor, then was too focused on saving the equipment instead of remembering how to fall properly,” you told him, remembering his words during your first skate lesson, telling you not to catch yourself if you fall on the ice.

“See, I told you to just let yourself fall. Never try to catch yourself,” he echoes his words in your thoughts.

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot easier said than done,” you deadpan, shutting your fridge door and looking at Nico.

Your stomach growls at that exact moment, making you groan at your lack of food in your fridge, not having eaten since before your accident.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” Nico asks you, looking down at your growling stomach.

“Uhhh, breakfast?” you recall.

Nico’s eyes widen. “It’s almost midnight. Did they really not feed you at the hospital?” he asks you.

“Considering they were busy doing x-rays and scans to make sure nothing was broken or torn, no,” you walk over to your cabinets, finding them also bare.

“Alright, go sit down and I’ll order us something to eat,” Nico shoos you out of the kitchen, walking over and opening the drawer where you keep all of your takeout menus.

You wonder how he knows where your menus are, forgetting for a moment that he’s over at your apartment at least twice a week after your skating lessons. Sometimes more, the occasional movie night making its way into your weekly routine.

“What do you want? Sushi? Chinese? Burgers?” he questions, flipping through your menus.

For some reason, your brain chooses this moment to register how much you enjoy the sight of Nico in your kitchen, looking through your takeout menus and offering to order you dinner.

You think back to all the times he’s helped you make dinner, laughter filling every moment of your time together. You think about how he always wear his pjs when he comes over for a movie night, bringing a different chocolate candy to put in the popcorn each time. You think about how he somehow learned your coffee order without you ever telling him, bringing you a coffee every morning, even at away games.

You think about your mother’s words, and how you didn’t even have to ask Nico to come over tonight, or to give you skating lessons. You think about how you never have to ask Nico to do anything he does for you – which is a lot, you’re realizing – he just does it. He does it because he wants to, because he’s kind and caring and wants to spend time with you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, what do you want for dinner?” Nico snaps you out of your sudden revelation.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second. Must be the pain meds,” you tell him, knowing that your mind isn’t the least bit impaired right now.

“Okay, go sit down, we need to get some food in you then,” he fishes his phone out of his pocket, mumbling out “Can’t believe they pumped you full of meds on an empty stomach.”

You make your way to your couch, sitting down and taking your shoes off, making yourself as comfortable as you can.

You remove a stray piece of hair that fell onto your face, knowing how awful it must look.

When you fell on the ice, the claw clip that was holding your hair in its up-do broke, causing it to fan out over the cold, wet ice. Once you got to the hospital, you were put in and out of so many different machines, you can only imagine the tangled, matted mess it is.

You get up and go to your bathroom, finding your brush and trying to comb it out. The task proving to be difficult with only one hand. The tangles keep pulling your head back and hurting your tender scalp, but you keep trying, whimpering each time the brush gets stuck on a particularly bad tangle.

You don’t even hear Nico approach your bathroom, just a sigh and “I told you to sit down,” before the brush is taken from your hand and you see Nico’s reflection behind you in the mirror.

Without another word, he proceeds to brush your hair for you, ensuring every tangle is gone before setting the brush on your sink.

The two of you make eye contact in the mirror, neither one wanting to break the silence during the surprisingly intimate moment.

You clear your throat, looking down after the silence got too intense, causing Nico to avert his eyes as well.

“I really wish i could wash my hair, but i know that’s a no go tonight,” you chuckle, wishing your bathroom was a little bit bigger in this moment.

“I can braid your hair for you,” Nico starts, staring at you in the mirror, watching your eyes snap up to meet his. “I mean, only if you want,” he stutters out.

“Really?” you ask him, a little stunned.

“Yeah. I used to help Nina with hers all the time when I was younger,” Nico mentions his older sister, grabbing your hair lightly and starting to section it off. “Anytime she would have a sleep over I would always weasel my way into the party. So one day, she made me sit in a braiding chain and learn how to braid her hair.”

You let out a giggle, picturing a smaller version of Nico sitting at the end of a line of girls, braiding their long hair.

“Then, Nina claimed I got so good at it she always wanted me to braid her hair before her volleyball matches, then her friends all started wanting me to do theirs, too,” he continues talking, nearly lulling you to sleep with the soft movements of his hands as you listen to him speak.

“I think that’s adorable,” you quietly speak, closing your eyes.

“What can I say? When a pretty girl needs her hair braided, who am I to keep my skills to myself?” he jokes, making you wonder if he meant you or his sister’s friends.

“I’m sure it’s any little boy’s dream to have an entire volleyball team at his mercy, all those pretty volleyball players begging him to play with their hair,” you tease him, handing him the hair tie that you always keep on your wrist.

“I don’t know, I think playing with a pretty photographer’s hair is better, if you ask me,” he ties the hair tie around the bottom of the braid, reaching up to pull the braid loose, making sure it’s not too tight.

You keep your eyes closed, knowing he can likely see the redness on your cheeks at his words.

“Alright, eyes open. Need to make sure you like my work,” he places his hands on your biceps, making sure to keep his touch feather light on your bad arm.

He turns you around so you’re facing him, holding a handheld mirror that was laying on your sink in front of your face, allowing you to see the reflection of the braid.

You’re shocked to see the flawless Dutch braid that cascades down your back.

“Nico, you’re like…really good at this,” you reach your good hand to the back of your head, running it down the braid.

“Told you, I had a lot of practice,” he shrugs, setting the mirror down.

You yawn, the relaxing nature of having your hair braided allowing you to realize how tired you are from the day’s events.

“Nuh-uh, gotta keep you awake until we get some food in you,” he tuts, taking his hands and patting your cheeks.

You groan, leaning into his palms that stay resting on your face.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed and on the couch,” he motions for you to leave the bathroom.

You walk to your room, Nico helping you carefully remove your sling before leaving and giving you some privacy.

You change into your pajamas, somehow managing to get your arm into an oversized Devils shirt you found at the bottom of your drawer.

Nico is standing outside of your door when you open it, helping you back into your sling.

He stands in front of you, staring at you with a look that you can’t decipher.

“Is…everything okay?” you question him, noticing his stare after adjusting your sling.

His eyes snap up to you, seemingly unaware that he was even staring at you in the first place.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just- is that my shirt?” he asks you, pointing to your pj shirt.

You look down at the oversized shirt, trying to think of where you got it.

It had just showed up in your laundry basket one day, assuming it was one they gave you when you got your job, but Nico’s question makes you think harder.

You realize, suddenly, you do remember where you got it.

During one of your post lesson dinners, Nico had spilled his drink all over his shirt. You offered to wash it for him after he changed to a shirt in his duffel.

You meant to take it back to him after you washed it, but forgot about it entirely, packing it away in your pajama drawer.

“Oh, crap, it is. Do you want it back, I can go change?” you ask him, worried he’s upset that you forgot to give it back.

“No…no it’s fine. Keep it. I have plenty,” he shakes his head, glancing down at it once more.

The two of you make your way to your couch, finding something to watch on tv when there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of your food.

You start to stand to go get it, but Nico sternly tells you to stay put.

Rolling your eyes you sit back down, grabbing the remote and continuing to channel surf.

Nico’s gone for longer than you expect, causing you to sit up and turn back towards your kitchen, wondering what’s taking him so long.

You see him walking over to you, a tray full of food in his hands.

He had ordered from your favorite sushi place, figuring it would be the easiest for you to eat one handed.

As he sat down the tray on the coffee table in front of you, you realized what took him so long.

Nico had put a toothpick in each piece of your sushi, knowing using chopsticks with your non dominant hand would have been hard for you. He poured soy sauce into a small container, allowing you to simply pick up each toothpick and dip it in the sauce before popping it in your mouth.

He had also ordered you a bottle of cherry coke, which he knew was your favorite, and placed it on the tray with the lid unscrewed and a straw peeking out of the bottle next to a glass of ice, just incase you wanted it that way instead.

You looked up at him, feeling that funny feeling in your chest like you did earlier in your kitchen, blown away at how he always seems to think of everything he can to help you out, even when you’re not injured.

You must’ve been looking for longer than you realized, because he cocks his head at you, confusion present on his face.

“What?” he asks, not understanding what’s wrong. “Did you not want sushi? I thought you said it was always the one thing that could cheer you up?”

You shake your head at him. “No, sushi is perfect,” you tell him, a small smile on your face as you look up at him.

He smiles back for a few moments, then started scooting the coffee table towards you so you don’t have to reach to grab your food. He moves around the table to sit beside of you, the size of the small table causing him to sit so close to you that you can feel the warmness of his large thigh against yours.

You once again think about all of the things he’s done for you without you even having to ask. Now including coming over after a game—no doubt exhausted and sore—and taking care of you without even thinking twice. Braiding your hair and calling you pretty. Staring at you unintentionally wearing his t-shirt. Modifying your food so it’s easier for you to eat with one hand.

You sit there, staring at the man you fear you’re falling in love with, already planning out the apology text you’re going to have to send your mom.

998 notes · View notes

letsgetbigger · 2 months ago

Text

OnlyFat

Nigel looked at himself in the mirror, as he did every morning, admiring his toned and sculpted body, the result of years of dieting and hard work at the gym. At 28 years old, he felt at the peak of his physical form. Firm muscles, broad shoulders, and a defined abdomen, along with his handsome face and sizable cock, had earned him a considerable number of followers on OnlyFans. While he wasn’t a millionaire, earning an average of about two thousand dollars a month allowed him certain luxuries and a pretty comfortable lifestyle. He enjoyed his routine. He filmed private videos, always eager to please, and responded to the strangest and most specific requests from his fans. No matter what they asked of him, he always found a way to enjoy it; perhaps due to his naturally submissive nature, something he had discovered long ago and now used to his advantage.

That Tuesday, as he checked the messages in his account, he came across a proposal that made him pause. It was from someone named Dom43, who had written to him several times before, though never with such a direct request. The message read:

“I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you gain ten pounds of fat in a month and send me a video of the results. No tricks. I want to see how you change. What do you say?”

Nigel raised an eyebrow and reread the offer over and over. It wasn’t the typical request he was used to. At first, it seemed strange, almost absurd. But the money—a thousand dollars!—was a considerable temptation. Plus, a part of him, the part that had always enjoyed obeying and submitting to others’ desires, felt a twinge of excitement at the idea. After a few minutes of thought, he shrugged and let himself go with his gut.

“I accept,” he wrote back.

He knew doing this would change something, though he wasn’t sure what. What he didn’t expect was just how much this would lead him down an unexpected path.

For Nigel, gaining ten pounds in a month didn’t seem like much of a challenge. And he knew that once he hit the goal and pocketed that thousand dollars, he could go back to his strict diet and regain his physique in a matter of weeks. It was just a simple detour, a small, temporary indulgence. Nothing serious. With that assurance, he decided to change his eating habits.

That same afternoon, he went to the grocery store, filling his cart with everything he normally avoided: frozen pizzas, pastries, salty snacks, and especially lots of tubs of ice cream, which he promised himself to devour every night. Salads were out of the picture for a few weeks. When he got home, the idea of indulging in unrestrained pleasure, of breaking the rules he had imposed on himself for years, turned him on. Even more so when he remembered he was doing it for Dom43, to fulfill his request.

That night, he sat on the couch in front of the TV, a pizza on one side and a tub of ice cream on the other, a smile on his face. At first, he ate because he was hungry, but soon that hunger turned into something darker, more intimate. He kept eating, even though he was no longer hungry. The mere thought of knowing he was stuffing himself, filling up to please someone, gave him a thrill he had never experienced before. When he finished, he lay back on the couch, gently stroking his slightly bloated stomach, feeling strangely satisfied.

***

Two weeks had passed, and Nigel had fully embraced his new routine of excess. He was eating as if it were a competition. The food filled him, but what really satisfied him was the idea of transforming his body at someone else’s request. He knew he was changing, that his body was reacting. And it was confirmed when he weighed himself: eight pounds gained. He was close to reaching his goal.

The next day, while working out, his personal trainer, Mark, noticed something different. Nigel was in the middle of doing crunches when Mark let out a mocking laugh.

“You’ve been slacking a bit, man,” he said, giving Nigel’s stomach a light tap. “You’ve put on some weight. And not just around the belly…” Mark added, motioning toward his backside.

Nigel laughed, trying to hide the heat rushing to his face. “Yeah, well, I’ve been indulging a little—nothing serious.”

Mark shook his head, but the comment stuck with Nigel. That teasing remark hit deep. It didn’t bother him, though. On the contrary, he liked it. For the rest of the workout, he couldn’t stop thinking about how his body was changing, about how much Dom43 would enjoy watching him soften up.

When he got home, he quickly stripped off his clothes and looked in the mirror. He touched his stomach, which was no longer as flat as it once was, and caressed the soft roundness beginning to form on his rear. Mark’s words echoed in his mind, and at that moment, Nigel couldn’t resist any longer. He collapsed onto his bed and jerked off, reaching the most intense climax of his life. What had started as a simple game to make some money had now completely consumed him.

The month had come to an end, and Nigel was ready. He carefully set up the camera, making sure the lighting was perfect, bright enough to highlight every change in his body, to show Dom43 the results of his effort. He stood in front of the mirror, took a deep breath, and began undressing slowly, recording the whole process. First, he removed his shirt, revealing his torso. His chest, once firm and defined, now had a slight sag to it. His belly, swollen and covered by a soft layer of fat, folded into rolls when he bent slightly. Then he pulled down his pants, leaving him in his tight white briefs, which now clung to him like never before. His thighs were noticeably thicker. But the real surprise came when he turned around. His ass, bigger and rounder, seemed to want to burst out of the tight fabric. The briefs could barely contain it. He gently touched his ass, feeling its fullness. Without missing a beat, he moved to the scale he had placed in front of the camera. He stepped on it carefully, watching the numbers climb rapidly. And there it was, the number that left him stunned: 191 pounds. He had gained fifteen pounds instead of the ten Dom43 had asked for. Five extra pounds, the result of his complete submission to food. Seeing the number, Nigel instantly got hard, unable to help himself.

“A hundred and ninety-one...” he muttered to himself.

Without thinking any further, he let the excitement take over. He jerked off in front of the camera, his breath ragged, and his moans filling the room. He did it for Dom43, but also for himself, for everything he had discovered about himself in the process.

Once finished, he sent the private video with a mix of anxiety and satisfaction, eagerly awaiting Dom43’s response. It didn’t take long to arrive: a payment confirmation accompanied by a comment that made Nigel shiver. “You’re a pathetic pig. You gained all this weight just because I told you to. I love it.” Nigel read aloud quietly. “I’ll give you ten thousand dollars more if you gain another twenty pounds in two months. Do you dare to become my fantasy?”

Nigel sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his still-naked, slightly sweaty body after the recording. His phone’s screen glowed with Dom43’s message: ten thousand dollars to gain another twenty pounds. The offer was tempting, too tempting. With that kind of money, he wouldn’t have to make more videos for months. He could take a break from his online life and focus on something else. Just the thought of that financial freedom made him feel relieved. But there was something more—a deep desire to please Dom43, to follow his orders, to submit to whatever he asked. It consumed him inside. He had discovered a new form of pleasure. Every pound he gained, every humiliating comment, ignited something within him that he had never felt before. Pleasing Dom43 had become almost an addiction. Yet, fear lingered in the background. He had already gained fifteen pounds, and although he initially thought he could lose it easily, he was starting to doubt whether the same would be true for thirty-five pounds. What if he couldn’t? What if continuing to gain weight destroyed the success of his OnlyFans account?

***

Nigel never imagined he would lose so much control. What started as a challenge, almost a game, had become a new reality. In just a month and a half of nonstop eating, he had gained the twenty-pounds Dom43 requested, pushing his body to limits he had never thought possible. Now weighing 211 pounds, the man he saw in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. His belly hung over the waistband, his thighs rubbed together with every step, and his once firm chest now bounced lightly with each movement. But the most shocking transformation of all was his ass, now enormous, two soft masses that jiggled with every step. And for some reason, that excited him more than it scared him.

When he arrived at the gym one afternoon, Mark greeted him with his usual mocking grin.

"Well, look who's here: my star client," Mark said sarcastically, his eyes scanning Nigel’s new body.

Throughout the workout, Mark made constant comments about his weight. Every time Nigel did a squat or lifted weights, he could feel Mark’s eyes on him, watching how his belly wobbled or how his ass strained against his shorts, which barely contained it anymore. But the most intense moment came after the workout when Nigel stepped out of the showers. As he was drying off, he noticed Mark watching him from across the locker room.

"Jesus, man..." Mark said, his eyes trailing over Nigel’s naked body. "You're huge. Like, seriously."

Before Nigel could respond, Mark stepped closer and gave him a smack on the ass. The sound echoed in the room, and Nigel’s butt cheeks rippled under Mark’s firm hand like jello. Nigel felt his face heat up, a mix of shame and arousal spreading over his skin.

"Damn," Mark laughed, "that moves like jello. What have you been eating, ice cream by the gallon? You’re getting obese, dude."

Nigel couldn’t answer, his throat dry, his mind stuck on the echo of Mark’s words. Obese. It was the first time anyone had called him that, and instead of being offended, the word hit him like a lightning bolt of pure desire. He tried to laugh, but the sound came out weak, almost choked.

He stood in front of the camera, taking deep breaths as he prepared for his second private session with Dom43. Like before, he undressed slowly, savoring each moment. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a torso that no longer had any trace of the firm muscles he once prided himself on. His chest was soft and round, visibly moving with each breath. His nipples had widened and felt unusually sensitive as he brushed his fingers over them. Then he slid off his pants, left in the same white briefs from the previous video. This time, they felt like a cruel joke. The edges dug into his hips and thighs, squeezing him in a way that was both uncomfortable and intensely arousing. His swollen belly hung slightly over the waistband, which seemed ready to give up the fight. Nigel turned to face the camera, letting it capture the most obvious change of all: his ass. It completely filled the briefs, making them look absurdly small. The fabric was stretched to its limit, with the tops of his cheeks spilling over, exposing the crack as if the briefs couldn’t possibly contain so much mass. He gave a slight shake, and his ass jiggled, continuing to bounce for a few seconds before settling. Seeing himself like that—so exposed, so impossibly large—sent a wave of arousal through him that nearly made him lose control right then and there. Nigel couldn’t help but smile. He knew Dom43 would love seeing what he had accomplished. The high point of the video came when he stepped onto the scale, carefully positioned in front of the camera. He showed the result: 211 pounds. Thirty-five pounds more than he weighed when this all began. He couldn’t help himself; the thrill of having transformed for someone else, of having fully surrendered to it, overwhelmed him. Once again, he masturbated in front of the camera, but this time, the orgasm was more intense, more liberating. His breath grew ragged, and every curve of his body shook with the force of his release.

When it was over, he sent the video to Dom43. The payment came through quickly, but what made Nigel’s heart race wasn’t the large sum of money. It was the words that followed.

“You’ve become my obedient pig. You’re good for nothing but getting fatter. You should be ashamed of how far you’ve fallen, but the worst part is, I know you love it.”

Nigel swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. It was true. He loved every humiliating word, every cruel comment that made him feel smaller, more submissive, despite his growing size. But it was the last line of the message that left him frozen.

“I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars if you gain another thirty pounds.”

***

Nigel was nervous. It had been over two months since he last filmed a video for his regular OnlyFans subscribers, and now, with his body drastically transformed, he had no idea how they would react. He wanted to see if the weight gain had changed anything, if his fans were still interested in him despite the fact that he no longer had the muscular, chiseled physique that had attracted them in the first place. Deep down, he hoped it wouldn’t matter too much, that they would still desire him, and that he wouldn’t have to rely on Dom43 to stay financially stable. He set up the camera like always, but this time, he took a longer look at himself in the mirror. It was incredible how much his body had changed in just two months. His body felt heavy. Every movement made him more aware of his size.

"It's just a video," he whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. "I just want to see how they react."

He stood in front of the camera, shirtless, revealing his round, soft torso, wearing only a pair of black briefs that used to be loose on him. He did the usual gestures he used in his videos, showing his body from different angles, touching his chest and stomach, running his hands over the areas now covered in fat.

He uploaded the video.

The first responses came in quickly. As soon as he read the comments, his fears were confirmed. There was no acceptance, no admiration. Just criticism, mockery, and, above all, shock.

“What happened to you? You used to look incredible, but now you look like a different person,” wrote one of his longtime followers.

“You’re huge! And not in a good way. What kind of joke is this?” added another.

The comments kept coming, each one harsher than the last. They called him fat and disgusting. Some even felt betrayed by the change, as if Nigel had deliberately hidden what he’d been doing over the past few months. Others openly laughed at him, making fun of how his body had lost all definition. Nigel read every word, feeling a mix of humiliation and indescribable excitement. He had expected a negative reaction, but the brutal honesty of their attacks surpassed all his expectations. Far from feeling defeated, something dark and deep inside him awakened. Each insult, each criticism, made him feel more alive, more aware of his body and what he had achieved. The taunts about his physique didn’t discourage him; they aroused him in a way he couldn’t ignore. It was as if those words freed him. He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to push forward. He turned off his computer screen and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Dom43 had offered him twenty thousand dollars to gain another thirty pounds. Thirty pounds that would transform him even more, taking him to a new level of submission. He had thought about rejecting the offer, about going back to his former physique. But after reading his fans’ comments, after feeling the impact of their words on his body, there was no longer any doubt. With a smile on his face, Nigel decided he was going to accept the challenge. He was ready to fully give in, to see just how far he could go.

***

Nigel stopped going to the gym altogether. Every morning, he woke up to the same routine: eat, jerk off, and eat more. His appetite seemed endless, and his libido was out of control, higher than ever. The discipline he once had had crumbled, replaced by an obsession with giving in to food and the thrill of his own transformation. His clothes no longer fit. The jeans, tight shirts, and briefs that had once defined his muscular figure now wouldn't even make it past his thighs or tore when he tried putting them on. Soon, he realized the only piece of clothing that still fit him was an old tracksuit, and even that didn’t fit well—it was so tight that the fabric stretched ridiculously, and his belly stuck out. He only wore it when he went out to buy more food, but at home, he spent his days completely naked.

In three months, Nigel had gained another thirty-five pounds, surpassing even Dom43’s challenge. His body was unrecognizable, and the scale didn’t lie. He weighed 246 pounds, a number he’d never imagined reaching. His thighs were so thick they had changed the way he walked. His belly was soft, round, and hung over. His arms, once firm, were now wrapped in fat. And his chest, completely soft, jiggled with even the slightest movement. He knew it was time to film the video for Dom43. He prepared in the simplest and most provocative way possible: completely naked, with a box of donuts by his side and the scale ready to show the result. The camera started rolling, and Nigel let himself get caught up in the moment. He grabbed one of the donuts and bit into it slowly, letting the sugar slide down his lips as he chewed exaggeratedly. He knew Dom43 would love to see him like this, enjoying the food that had turned him into what he was now.

“I’ve surpassed your challenge,” Nigel said, his voice thick with pleasure as he bit into another donut. “Another thirty-five pounds. I hope you’re happy.”

He stood up with difficulty, his ass visibly bouncing as he walked toward the scale. He stepped onto it with some effort, and it stopped at 246 pounds. Nigel showed the number to the camera with a satisfied grin on his face.

“246 pounds,” he said with pride in his voice. “But that’s not all.”

He grabbed a measuring tape and started measuring his body. First, he wrapped it around his waist.

“Fifty inches,” he announced, staring at his belly.

Then he measured his ass, which had turned into a massive ball of fat, and the number was just as shocking.

“Fifty-three inches. I can’t even fit in my office chair.”

Nigel paused for a moment, looking at the camera with a euphoric expression.

“All of this... is for you, Dom43. I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

He ended the video with one last bite, chewing slowly as he jiggled his whole body while masturbating. When he finished, he turned off the camera and collapsed onto the couch, panting from exhaustion. He sent the video to Dom43 and waited, knowing the response wouldn’t take long. When it came, it was exactly what he expected.

“You’ve exceeded my expectations, pig. I never imagined you’d reach this point, that you’d become such a mountain of fat for me. Look at yourself, you’re pathetic, completely out of control. And you know what? I love it. You’ve done everything I asked and more. You’re the perfect submissive fat boy. You’re good for nothing but eating, getting fatter, and letting others laugh at you. But I must also say, I’m proud of you. You’ve proven you’re completely mine, willing to transform yourself this way just to please me. You’re incredible, in the worst way possible, of course, but that’s exactly where your greatness lies.”

Nigel stared at the screen, absorbed in the words. He had done everything Dom43 had wanted. And yet, he felt he could go further. The idea of gaining even more weight, of leaving behind any trace of his former self, called to him with unstoppable force. Without thinking too much, he typed the question that had been on his mind for days, a question that made him tremble with anticipation:

“How much will you pay me if I reach 300 pounds?”

The silence that followed for a few seconds was deafening, but Dom43’s response came quickly.

“I’m not paying you anything. This time, you won’t do it for the money. I want you to do it for me, because you can’t stop yourself now. I want you to gain until you reach 300 pounds just to please me, because now you know that’s the only thing that turns you on. You’ll do it because you belong to me.”

Nigel took a deep breath, feeling each word of that message wrap around him, filling him with a mix of submission and absolute pleasure. He knew Dom43 was right. It was no longer about the money. It was about something much bigger. What had started as a simple desire to fulfill a fantasy had become his reality. With trembling fingers, he typed the only thing he knew he could say at that moment, the only thing his mind and cock screamed for with overwhelming clarity:

“I’ll do it.”

#gainer stories #gaining fat #gaining kink #gaining weight on purpose #gay gainer #gainer fiction

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liillyliilly · 4 months ago

Text

No Free-Solo

kenji sato x reader words; 10021 synopsis; from high school on, kenji couldn't do it alone, especially not when she was there for him.

“You’re missing me with that busy shit. You’re missing me with your whole ‘I can’t come over tonight’ act.” Kenji sat in what she liked to refer to as his dungeon, his lair, his Ultraman den. His too large for life couch made of black leather was cold and the emptiness was expansive in his mansion. He wanted her near, he wanted her to come back.

“I really can’t come over, I’m helping out Ami with Chiho tonight.” She tried to let him down gently, but he huffed through the phone.

She wasn’t a nanny per se, but she did do a fair amount of long-term babysitting for lots of people, mostly for Ami, occasionally for other busy mothers. She had a certain touch to the whole watching and raising kids thing, entertaining the child while also educating them.

Chiho was snoring in her bed. Ami was out with her fellow reporter boyfriend. And she, well she was watching movies in the family room of Ami’s house. Drawings that Chiho had done were covering the walls, plenty of Ultraman pictures to Kenji’s amusement.

She knew the Sato family through a long-winded connection by friendship shared between mothers. Kenji’s mom was best friends with her mom. In terms of maturity though, she was light years ahead of Kenji even when they were in high school. Back in America, when life was typical (meaning lacking in Kaiju and Ultraman responsibility) and the LA Dodgers still reigned supreme in Kenji’s head. They had met for the first time right before her junior year and his senior year.

She would be the youngest junior at the school and he would be one of the oldest seniors at their Los Angeles high school.

Her mom had insisted they visit her good friend the summer before her junior year started, and that she would need to help the son out in adapting to American High school since they had just moved from Japan.

She was worried due to a potential language barrier, but her mom assured her that he would be fluent in English. But how would her mom know that? Her anxiety was off the charts. She spent hours studying basic Japanese, which she found was probably going to kill her, why a language needs more than one writing system was beyond her.

“Ah! It’s so good to see you, Emiko!” Her mom went in for a big hug, and the petite Japanese woman returned the hug with as much enthusiasm as had been given. Her mom muttered about the separation between Emiko and Hayao, and Emiko gave a strained smile, leading them into the house.

Kenji was lounging on the couch, which she soon learned that he loved to do, a tendency to sprawl due to his height and lankiness. He was switching TV channels, until he landed on a baseball game and committed to watching that.

Her mom ushered her over to him, telling her to make conversation and get to know him. How she expected her to do that despite not knowing him at all was a wonder. She didn’t suspect that they had anything in common, and with the zeal he was watching the baseball game, she also suspected that he wasn’t going to be a huge fan of her preference for movies and shows over sports.

So she mustered up a greeting in Japanese from a textbook she had picked up. She had missed the way his eyes glinted with amusement, it was at that moment he decided to play just a small inconsequential game. A game where he pretended he didn’t know any English.

He responded in Japanese, and she realized she really knew nothing at all about Japanese. He sat up and patted the seat next to him. The moms left the main living space in favor of drinking some tea upstairs on a balcony, leaving her alone and incapable of communicating.

Pointing to herself, she said her name with a forced smile. He said ‘Kenji’ while pointing to himself and saying a variety of other words that she had no idea meant anything at all. At least Japanese sounded pretty, so she started thinking about the linguistic history and design of the syllables. He waved a hand in front of her face and she snapped out of her mini history lesson to herself.

Pushing his joke a little further, he used his head to point to a door near the stairs. She raised an eyebrow. He spoke for a few more moments, and she could only stiffly smile and nod in return. When he grabbed her hand and went to the door she thought she was going to die.

Inside the door was his room, and she really thought that this was the end of her sanity, her childhood, her innocence. She had fandangled herself into an intimate relationship with someone who didn’t even speak English and her heart was going to burst at the seams. Trying to recall all the words she had memorized, she was mad that she never learned the words for; no, stop, or I’ll kill you.

It was when she began to slink towards the door and hold her arms across her body in a cross shape that he realized maybe he should drop the joke. Her ears seemed like they were burning and her breathing had increased to a mile a minute in pace.

“Relax, I just wanted to show you my baseball cards.” He held up a binder and opened it to reveal a collection of player cards double sleeved and tucked neatly into a sheet protector.

“I thought you didn’t speak any English!” She frowned and put a hand to her heart. He laughed and she realized she had fallen for a trick.

“My bad.” He holds his hands together and puts them up near his head with a slight bow to apologize. Kenji pushes his bangs back and licks his top row of teeth, “Do you know if our school has a baseball team?” He asks.

She nods. “We’re in the top bracket for playing, it’s super hard to get onto the team though, my friend tried-”

He raised a hand to get her to stop speaking, then he informed her of his inherent athletic prowess, “Believe me, I’ll get onto the team.”

And he had. He’d even qualified to play on the varsity team.

A few months into the school year, while she was eating in the library with some friends, Kenji came bustling into the open space with his pack of baseball players. They always tagged along behind him, treating him like some sort of fancy foreign exchange kid, which she realized was exactly the situation and so her mental analogy didn’t end up working out and she clicked her teeth.

But the majority of white boys at the school did tend to lean a little too hard into the racial stereotypes and unfunny jokes. All Kenji could do sometimes was purse his lips and keep eating his natto. They thought because they had an Asian friend it was an excuse for their behavior, why Kenji never stood up to them and told them off was a huge confounding plight in her eyes. Kenji himself didn’t quite understand it either. Not even when they shortened his name into just Ken for ease and convenience.

Before she could tidy up her comparison and dissection of Kenji Sato, he was leaning on her desk, eating her carrots and searching for her eyes to meet him. He said something in Japanese, and she tried to remember how the words sounded so she could look up what he had said.

“I need your help.” He stole a bite of her sandwich, then drank some of her water. Before he even took it without asking, she offered her pastry to him and he ate the whole thing in one bite and mumbled a ‘thanks’ with his mouth full. He finished chewing and swallowing.

“I need you to pretend to date me so I can get these guys off my back.” He stuck his thumb in the direction of his teammates.

“Absolutely not. No way in hell, Kenji.” She started to pack up her bag, but he just put his hand on her bag and pressed it hard against the desk. With his other hand he gently grabbed her by the chin, and tilted her face up to his. Inches away. Her eyes went wide.

“Pretty please?” He licked his lips and she tried to bring her own face back to avoid his tongue getting to her lips.

She thought about what her mom said, telling her to help out Kenji if he needed it. This couldn't apply though, right?

“I’m going to need so many favors.” She groaned, managing to get her bag out from under his hands.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, ruffling her hair and heading out with his friends who began to goad him for keeping her a secret for so long. He had just taken her first kiss and it didn’t seem like it bothered him at all. She was too busy pressing her hand to her lips to even notice the way his ears were a scorching hot red.

When she went to research what he had said to her, she thought she must have misheard him because the proposed English translation was something along the lines of, ‘please let this work out in my favor’.

Continuously, she called in favors, and he was there to meet them. Getting books off the top shelves in the library. Sharpening pencils when they were studying. Even helping her learn just a little more of his language.

“No, no you gotta give each syllable its own beat. Copy me.” Kenji went over the blended ‘r’ and ‘l’ sound that felt clunky in her mouth.

She did replicate what he was saying, at least to her own belief that that was her best ability. He laughed a little and she frowned.

“Okay, move your tongue a little, right behind your front teeth, but also not touching your teeth, just let your tongue kinda do the sound in the middle.” Kenji opened his mouth a little so she could observe. She tried again but it sounded even worse than the first attempt.

“I wish I could just move your tongue for you so you could get the motion right.” She looked quickly side to side, biting her bottom lip. Kenji backtracked immediately, “That didn’t come out quite right, I think that’s enough Japanese for one day.” She nodded rapidly and closed the journal she was using to take notes.

He said that they could go get food, she agreed and they got burgers and milkshakes at a run down family owned diner. He paid, despite her insisting she could pay for her own food. Saying that that was apart of the whole fake dating thing.

“You know, you do a lot of things under the guise of our not dating, dating thing.” She sipped her milkshake. Kenji took a bite of his burger, musing about what he would say.

“Well, we’re friends as well right?”

“Yeah, we’ve been hanging out since you basically arrived here. We’re friends, but honestly, we behave more like best friends.” She finished off her shake and cleaned up her area.

That was something he liked about her, her consideration for cleanliness and organization. But also her appreciation for others around her, cleaning up her stuff so that the likely overworked waitress didn’t have to. A person who thinks about other people. Now that was his type he decided.

“I’m happy with being best friends.”

In all fairness, he was probably the best fake boyfriend that a girl could’ve asked for. They had settled on knowing their relationship was best friends, but for others they had the additional label of dating. Sometimes though, he’d do something like grab her hand or wrap an arm around her. When those situations presented themselves, she always looked for possible viewers, his teammates. But based on her data, he only did things like that around 20% of the time when his teammates were actually watching. Meaning that the other 80% of the time he did the physical acts of affection, no one was around to watch.

While his English was practically perfect, he had the hardest time in social studies and history, so he got her help with his U.S. government class. He claimed that because he hadn’t lived here at all, and because he had Japanese citizenship that this class was completely useless for him. His defeatist attitude towards history made her roll her eyes at him.

One day, when she was intending to come over to help him, Emiko crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as he cleaned up his room. He threw his baseball socks and jersey into the dirty clothes hamper.

“She’s coming over then?”

He mumbled an affirmative answer.

Emiko got giddy, saying she’d make a good rich curry tonight for dinner and that he’d need to tell her to stay for dinner. He gave a wave and kept picking up his room.

When the doorbell rang, he ran to the door. Emiko chastened him and told him to calm down. He let her in, and she greeted his mom, giving Emiko the box of fruit her own mom told her to drop off. He complained in Japanese that she always went straight to his mom instead of greeting him first. Emiko in turn smiled at her while scolding her son again in Japanese.

Watching the conversation unfold, she shrugged, Japanese was just not her strong suit.

“How hard is it to understand a constitutional federal republic?” She looked over his essay answer to a prompt she had given him to practice for his upcoming test. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, chewing the end of a pen. She was leaning against his bed frame, reading papers and marking up his essay with her red pen. Each time she made another red mark, he grumbled. Of all the people she had tutored though, his handwriting was the best.

“Correct these things first, and then I can edit again with my orange pen.” She held up said pen while handing the paper back to him. He just mimicked what she had said, holding his own pen the same way she had held up hers, even going so far as to bring his shoulders upwards to make him appear smaller.

In response to the insulting imitation she grabbed her notebook and hit him repeatedly on the knee. He let out a pained ouch, and she felt bad, so she put the notebook away and just patted his knee instead.

“If you really loved me you’d just write out the whole essay and then I could just memorize it and cross apply the right parts for the actual prompt Mr. Henry gives in class next week.” Kenji adjusted his body position, and her hand wasn’t on his knee anymore but dead center of his thigh instead. He smirks, and she immediately retracts her hand.

“Good thing I don’t love you then.” Kenji presses his hand to his heart and sighs, falling back into his pillow. “Just do the essay Jiji.”

He lifted his head and repeated what she had said, “Jiji?”

“Kenji.” She says his name and enunciates the two syllables cleanly.

“I like Jiji, I think it suits me. It’s a cute nickname.”

He finished rewriting the essay while she poked around his room. Photos of him with his mom and dad, which she already knew not to ask about because last time she did he went total silence for two weeks. But then he felt guilty about ghosting and took her out to get a sweet treat everyday after school for one week straight. Trophies from his old school back in Japan for his baseball achievements. Multiple MVP awards from the games he had played here.

The other photos that were in his room were mostly of him and his teammates. He just didn’t look too happy in those ones, so she tried to skim them, but failed. His teammates did their best to make him seem like he was a part of the group, but it just didn’t click all the way. Kenji always looked too serious in the photos, or it seemed like he was actually looking at the baseball diamond instead of the person taking the photo.

There was an adorable little figure, made either of acrylic or vinyl, of a little superhero with a red and silver supersuit and a blue circle on the chest. She picked it up and inspected it. What she assumed was Kenji’s name was on the foot of the toy. She bent the arms of the toy and moved it around like it was flying midair.

Kenji had completely paused writing his essay in favor of watching her dart around his room. He clenched his jaw for a second when she picked up the Ultraman toy, then eased his body language when she started making the toy fly around. If only that’s what Ultraman really was, just a toy. Just a toy and not an impending responsibility to protect and serve the people of Japan from Kaiju monsters. He wondered if she’d ever want to live somewhere besides Los Angeles. Tokyo for example.

“Kenji! Curry! Get the applesauce from the cabinet please!” Emiko called out.

She set the toy down and turned around, but Kenji was already standing right behind her. He had only meant to watch her movements a little more closely, but now this was entirely too close. He played it off like he was adjusting the Ultraman doll, smiled and then opened his door for her to exit and head downstairs.

When he heard the steps trailing down, he silently screamed and raised his hands to the sides of his head. Then he dragged a hand down his face and carded fingers through his hair. He envied the self he saw in the photos, cool and nonchalant.

“So, are there any boys you think are cute at school?” Emiko ate another bite of katsu that was drenched in curry sauce.

She swallowed thickly for a second, “I- uh, no. There’s not many good options for dating material at a hyper-athletic school.” She laughed to cut the edge off the conversation.

Emiko drank some water, but then prodded a little more. Kenji wished the earth would open and swallow him up.

“Not even at a school full of athletes? I would’ve sworn there were some good options for you on Kenji’s baseball team. What was his name? Eric? Eli?”

“Ohh, Ezra Johnson?” She supplied, eating some applesauce and then tapping her mouth with a napkin.

Kenji looked to her, then to his mom, then back at her. He was trying to stuff his face with his food so he could exit the conversation and then drag her and himself back to his room. She seemed insistent on blocking out the whole fake dating thing from his mom’s view and perception.

“Yes! He’s a really nice kid! He actually greeted me when I went to the first game. It was so sweet of him. His mom and I got to know each other a little bit. I can send you his details if you want?” Emiko grazed the back of her phone.

“No!” Kenji burst. His mom and his fake girlfriend both looked at him. “Uh, Ezra is talking to this girl named, um, Claire. Yeah, Claire.” He held his plate up and his mom nodded.

Rinsing his plate off he put it into the dishwasher, then from behind his mom’s back he tried mouthing to her so they could go back upstairs but she was too busy still talking to his mom to notice anything.

When she finally finished eating, she said she needed to go back home.

“What about my essay though?” Kenji rested his forearms on the kitchen counter while she was busy doing the dishes despite having to gently fight with Emiko about letting her even do the dishes in the first place.

“I gave you enough content to work with, just do the corrections and you’ll be good to go.” She bumped the dishwasher with her hip to close it, and he wondered what her bumping into him would feel like. And then he groveled a little that he wanted to be a dishwasher for even a split second. “I need to do my own homework now, tell your mom thank you again for me, okay?”

She rubbed his arm to comfort him slightly, but he took his chance to reach to her hip, tugging her lightly into him.

“What are you doing?” She hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down in case Emiko was still lurking around.

“Saying thanks for the help, goodbye, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grabbed the hand that she had on his arm and held her hand for a second, then brought it up to his mouth to press a light kiss to her knuckles.

She smiled, then pushed his shoulder.

When she had left the house, he flung himself onto the couch and giggled a little. Kicking his feet that were dangling over the arm of the couch. His mom peeked downstairs to see Kenji wriggling around and muttering. She just laughed a little. Maybe her instigation had worked out in the end.

The next week, she was hounded by baseball players after school.

She kept holding up a hand to cover her face, but they would not relent. Asking questions about her and Kenji. What Kenji was like outside of school, outside of baseball. If Kenji ever stopped being serious and aloof for even a minute. At this point they were just crowding her and not giving her the space to breathe.

She kept giving short curt answers, tugging her backpack straps closer and closer to her. At one point, one of them stepped on her foot and she winced a little.

It was like some kind of sonar sensor, Kenji could tell something was wrong. When he turned the corner, all he could see was his girl getting cornered by a bunch of idiots who didn’t even have his best interest at heart. The only reason why he asked her to fake date him was so that he could get out of dates with the girls his teammates had thought would suit him. The secondary reason was so she could avoid his teammates entirely. But clearly, the second reason did not go as planned because his teammates were a bunch of no-brainers who didn’t even really care about baseball.

“Hey, let’s go, I’ll drive you home today.” Kenji stuck his hand in between two of his teammates, and she grabbed it, so he was able to pull her out from the crowd they had made around her.

He strung two fingers around her jean belt loop and guided her to his car. When they finally sat down, and Kenji had started the engine, she let out a shaky breath. He put his hand behind her seat, and then moved his hand so he could lightly touch the back of her neck at her nape.

“Are you okay? I had no idea they would do something like that, I mean, it’s just completely ridiculous. I don’t even talk to them that much, if at all. And they treat me like some kind of foreigner, which I may be yeah, but really come on. That’s just herd mentality to the max. Ridiculous behavior, so childish.” Kenji kept talking while driving, she thought that maybe he needed a chance to really unload everything and mitigate the tension that had built up around him.

When they got to her house, he apologized again. And again.

“Don’t let it eat you alive, it’s all good, no harm no foul, if it makes you feel better, they totally reeked of body odor.” She chimed in after he finished his long wind of apologies. “And, um, what time is your game on Wednesday? My mom asked, she wants to hang out with your mom.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to see me completely kill the opposing team.” Kenji tried to lean out of the car just a little more, but his seatbelt kept him from getting his head out of the passenger side window. “I’ll text you. Get to your house safe ok?”

To her house from the car was approximately seven steps. The smile she gave him wrinkled her eyes and creased her nose just perfectly. He slid his hands up and down the wheel, smiling to himself as he started home.

The game went perfectly, he stole practically all the bases, and he made two home run hits. And an LA Dodgers scout was there. Once he got the documents and the scout shaked his hand, he was over the moon excited to play for the best team in the United States.

When he saw her with her mom and his mom, he just couldn’t hold himself back. In a second, he was hugging her and ranting about the scout continuously just repeating the experience over and over. Since his mom knew she would have a hard time prying Kenji off of his best friend, she just had to listen in to what he was saying, and she clapped when she had finally heard it all, celebrating from just far enough away to let them enjoy the moment.

His graduation was boring, she sat with his mom in the stands waiting for him to get his name called out. There were a lot of speeches, and she recognized the valedictorian from various library encounters, but for the most part everyone was a stranger to her. Emiko kept getting a call from an international number, but she didn’t try to ask about it.

Kenji barrelled through the crowd of graduates to get to his people, his mom and his best friend. When he started to talk about what he was going to do over the summer, his baseball camps and training, getting to meet the members of his team. His mom put a gentle hand to his shoulder, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the serious environment his mom had suddenly crafted. She backed away a little, but Kenji grabbed her hand and shook his head, telling her to stay for whatever his mom had to say.

“Kenji, your dad, he’s, your dad wants to talk to you. He’s, he’s on the phone.” Emiko couldn’t help but stutter a little, unnerved with how Kenji would react.

Kenji shook his head no, pulling her closer to him trying to use her as a crutch to prevent an interaction with his father from occurring. She looked between Kenji and his mother for a moment. Emiko with her tightened face and hand gripping the phone tightly said more than what her original request was saying. Emiko wanted Kenji to answer the call. So, she in turn encouraged him to answer it.

“Jiji, just answer the call. It’s your dad.” He felt betrayed.

“I’m not picking up the phone, I’m not talking to dad, and I’m getting a ride with a friend.” He pulls his hand away, despite missing her touch, and leaves his mom and her standing and stunned from his reaction.

Emiko pulled her into a side hug. “Thanks for backing me, you’re much more mature than I think people give you credit for. I have udon at home, call your mom and let’s have a girls night. I don’t think he’ll be home for a while. I’ll let him blow off steam today, but don’t think I’m soft on him, he’ll have some hell to pay when I catch him tomorrow.”

Patting the back of her head, Emiko went to the small electric van. She stood for a second, thinking about the space Kenji had just occupied. Maybe the family dynamic in the Sato household was more complex than she had anticipated, Emiko seemed to still love her husband despite them being separated. Kenji seemed adverse to and angry with his father, but Emiko didn’t carry any slight of resentment.

Girls night was a blast, including face masks and bad romance movies. Kenji got back around midnight, just as her mom and her were leaving his house. When she left, he was the one who closed the door after her. He gave a short pained smile and a wave. In her mind, it was a win because at least he wasn’t upset with her for taking Emiko’s side.

Summer was hot and burned the apples of her cheeks, leaving both sunburns and memories in it’s fragmented state. Kenji was busy conditioning for baseball practically everyday. Somedays he’d invite her out just to watch him play, so she could sip some icy lemonade and sit in the shade instead of being cooped in her house doing whatever it is that homebodies do.

It would be deceiving to say that she didn’t enjoy just watching him play. The way his baseball jersey would bunch at his elbows and shoulders when he hit the ball. Or the way he would run the bases each time he missed a throw from the ball machine. He still needed to get a haircut, so his bangs would completely cover most of his face, until he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and his almost snake-like eyes would study her from afar.

The best part was when he told her to move her legs a little, so he could sit on the row of bleachers in front of her. Eventually positioning himself to settle in between her legs, resting his arms on her thighs and his head was leaning on her torso. Although his sweat would lightly mark up her shirts when his hair dripped from his practice rounds, she still loved to be there for him in this capacity.

Either he was here with her or he would be at the diamond alone and angry. When he came alone, he would throw his bat when he made a mistake instead of just brushing it off and doing a lap. Somehow, doing baseball training alone while waiting for official LA Dodgers’ orders made him all pent up and out of control. So when she came to observe, it felt like he had more things in his control, his ability to manage.

“How are you gonna survive without me next year?” Kenji rolled his shoulders before getting his water bottle and guzzling down the IV infused liquid.

“Well, as far as everyone knows, we’re still dating, so I’ll have another year of free solo-ing the romance world at a hormone ridden cesspool.” She slid her backpack on, ready to start the trek home.

Kenji slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, then quickly switched which shoulder his bag was on once he saw which side she let her bag rest on, so that their bags wouldn’t bump into each other as he walked her home.

“You’re not gonna tell people we ended it?” Kenji sucked in some air through his teeth, readjusting the bag’s weight placement a little.

“Nah, it’s just easier that way. At graduation though if anyone asks how we’re doing I’ll say you found a supermodel that preys on greenie Pro-Baseball players.”

He nods, accepting the route she was going in order to terminalize their fake relationship.

“I was a good boyfriend though, right?” Maybe he asked so that he could feel out the possibility of a real one, or seeing what he could do better when he finally worked up enough courage to ask her out for real and for forever. For now though, he knew that friendship would satiate most of his yearning for her time and attention.

“Comparatively, to what I heard other girls went through, you were practically a saint. I mean, you never did press me into a couch so we could make out. Ruby held that over my head for the whole year once her girlfriend did that to her.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad actually,” Kenji stroked his chin, “One last boyfriend duty for me to do before I get too busy, ya know?”

“Kiss me without permission and you're a dead baseball boy.” He held up his hands defensively.

“That was one time.”

“In the middle of the library, in front of a good majority of my friends, right after I had been begged to be a fake girlfriend.”

Kenji raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head, “I do not recall begging.”

“You definitely begged,” She clasped her hands together and turned towards him, pausing their pace on the sidewalk for her to parody him, “Pretty please.”

She fluttered her eyelashes and pouted dramatically.

He rolled his eyes and tugged her hands so she would keep walking.

The postseason began around October for Kenji, and he made his official debut into the stage of professional baseball. Around the fifth game he played, he snapped. And that’s why he was sitting on her bathroom counter holding a bag of peas to the side of his face, while she dug through the closet just outside the bathroom looking for a first aid kit.

The catcher had just stepped out of line according to Kenji, messing up his at bat routine with his comments about his age, his inexperience, his lack of genuine talent. The first punch was Kenji’s, the second punch was the catcher’s and it rocked Kenji immediately.

Tasting the metallic blood in his mouth, he was just glad all his teeth were okay. He did feel bad for going to her instead of going home. But he knew that his mom would’ve killed him for hitting another player. The only reason why his mom wasn’t at this specific game was because she had some research files from years ago that his father needed, so she was spending the time trying to transfer data from floppy disks to USB drives.

She should’ve been asleep, or studying for her upcoming exams. He felt like an inconvenience and like a child who was being coddled, but he did feel like he was being fawned over by her which he could live with. Even the way she had reacted to him texting her and asking if she could help patch him up a little. She had sent nearly thirty messages, mostly angry, but also laced with worry.

“This might sting a little.” She reached up and pressed a cloth to his lip. He lurched away from the disinfectant, and she almost fell over due to having to reach up to get to his face.

“Hold on, give me a second.” Kenji got off the counter regardless of her complaints, she stopped complaining and was silenced once he swapped their positions, her sitting on the counter and him in front of her with his hands on either side of her hips, placed on the edge of the counter. “Better.”

She hummed a little, pressing the cloth to his face again, he tried to not lurch away this time. She put some triple antibiotic ointment on his lip and temple where there were some cuts. Putting some small star shaped bandages on his face where the cuts were biggest.

“All done!” She put her hands on his shoulders and gave a big smile.

Maybe he leaned in, maybe he didn’t. But their lips were definitely touching. When she pushed him away he realized he must have made a fatal error. So he decided to play it off.

“Sorry, a little faint from the fight earlier, not in my right mind.”

“Yeah, you, uh, you were just trying to, yeah.” She chewed the inside of her mouth.

Kenji helped her off the counter, and walked to her front door, ready to head out.

Holding onto the door, she stuck her head out and commented to him before he got too far away from hearing distance, “No more fights okay?”

He threw her a thumbs up before leaving her house. When he was safely back in his car, he did something that was all too familiar when he slipped up around her, he silently screamed and gripped his hair.

Years went by.

They stayed close, and he made sure of that. Baseball was going great, but no championships under his belt. She had graduated college, working at an office as an assistant. She moved out of her family home and got a shared apartment with some college friends who also worked in the main part of Los Angeles

Then, his dad hurt his leg, and everything went to hell. Hayao had called, telling Kenji it was finally time to take the name of Ultraman. He now needed to bear the gauntlet, the responsibility of keeping his home country safe. His mom just agreed, putting her hands on Kenji’s knee. Telling Kenji it was finally time for him to go home and be who he was supposed to be. And he was supposed to be Ultraman?

Baseball was his thing, he knew baseball and he was good at it too. Baseball felt like home, LA felt like his home, she felt like his home.

On top of all that, within a week of his father’s request and his mother’s urging, his mother had an accident. He had no idea what happened. Just that one day, Emiko was there and then she wasn’t.

He was depressed, and so he drank. His house was a mess. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, he was wearing the same clothes from four days ago. His toothbrush had become unfamiliar. He didn’t bother turning on the lights, staying in the dark and sulking.

When her mom found out about Emiko’s disappearance and presumed death, she called her daughter and told her to check in on Kenji. He had been distant lately, and she knew that the distance was a result of his grief. Her stomach twisted into knots, and she realized she hadn’t reached out to him in a few weeks.

His front door was locked, she had a basket of fruit and a stack of tupperwares filled with lunches and dinners for an entire week. She tried to think about what food were both comforting and had a lot of protein, so she made a variety of pasta dishes with extra meat.

“Kenji?” She knocked repeatedly, checking her phone only to see that her messages had been left on read. She called out for him again, knocking harder. “I know you’re in there Jiji.”

Opening the door made her grasp the gravity of the situation he was in. His hair was covering his face, he seemed to have recoiled into himself, wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt instead of his typical jeans and jersey thrown over a solid color tee. He smelled too, not of his usual mintiness and clean linen, but of all and any sort of alcohol. With eye bags darker than dirt, and hollow looking features, he just left the door open as he lurked back into his blacked out house.

Setting her gifts on his kitchen counter, she turned on the lights, and got to work. First the dishes, and then she picked up all the clothing and started a load of laundry. She made him a plate of the food she had brought, and a big glass of water and some Advil for the inevitable hangover he would have.

Lying on the couch, Kenji played with the hem of his sweatshirt. He tried to take another sip straight from a bottle of red wine when she stole it out of his hands. Whining, he told her to give it back and turn the lights off. She clicked her tongue.

“Eat this,” she handed him the plate, “Drink this,” she sat the water and pill on the coffee table. She tapped her foot, her arms folded in front of her chest. He groaned but did as told.

Satisfied with his actions, she dragged him upstairs and told him to take a shower. Hearing the water running, she looked around his room and cleaned it up. His passport, along with a one way ticket to Tokyo for one month out, was on the floor, covered by blankets that were strewn around. Opened letters were lying on the floor as well, pictures and clippings of ‘Kaiju’ attacks in Japan. Maybe she needed to brush up on her international news instead of staying in her little bubble.

Coming out of the shower with baggy clothes on, he dried his hair with a small towel.

“What are you doing?” He saw her holding the letters his dad had sent. He reached out for them, but she held them back and to her chest.

“What are Kaiju?”

Soon, he was sitting on his bed with her as well. He had the Ultraman doll in his left hand and a stuffed animal that she had given him some years ago in his right hand.

“Basically, I’m this, by blood,” He shook the Ultraman doll, “And I’m supposed to fight these back home. Since my father can’t anymore.” Laughing slightly, he slammed Ultraman into the stuffie repeatedly.

Her eyes were wide. She may not have understood everything about what he was, or what he was supposed to be doing, but she knew it was important to him to some degree. It was irrelevant that his dad needed him, the only thing he cared about was that his mom had asked him to take the step to become something he wasn’t sure of.

But the idea that her best friend was going to be a superhero? That he could change into some kind of robotic monster slayer? She had to disconnect a little from reality just to process the whole thing.

Suddenly, he thought of something that could possibly get him out of his funk. Something that could make his time in Tokyo, living an entirely new life bearable.

“There’s some extra rooms at the place I’ll be living in. I know that you want to go to some kind of graduate school. There are really good graduate schools in Tokyo.” He scratched the back of his head, if she said yes, then he would be truly mortified that she had seen him like this but he would also get to have neverending time with her on a day to day basis if she agreed.

“I remember none of the Japanese you taught me, I’d need to get a visa,” She started listing off all the things that would keep her from leaving, “But, uh, I think I’ll go with you. Yes.”

“I can handle the visa thing, you’re just going to need to sign some papers and have an interview with some people, and you’ll need to wear a ring on your ring finger. As for the Japanese, I’m a better teacher now than when I was 18.”

Getting married was not on her bucket list, but at least she could get better tuition at her graduate school for technically being a form of naturalized Japanese national. Her mom was glad to see her living away from LA, and she was grateful for Kenji going with her daughter. Her mom just didn’t know about the marriage for a green card/visa situation, and honestly, she didn’t plan on telling her mom.

The whole flight to Tokyo she was practicing her Japanese with Kenji. For the first time in a long time, he was actually happy. Not ready for the whole Ultraman thing, but ready at least to leave home and be out of LA. Los Angeles reminded him of his mother, every street sign, every restaurant, the greenery and flowers, it all came back to his mom.

What he had explained to her as the Ultrabase wasn’t just some place that he was staying at, it was a literal industrial modern masterpiece of a mansion. The sleek design ebbed and flowed into the molding of the island it resided on. Ceilings higher than a museum’s, she traced her finger along every surface trying to soak in the elitism of it all. He reclined himself on the ginormous couch, watching her observe the surroundings.

To him, she was the best feature of the homebase. Where most things were cold and stricken with a detrimental weight of his responsibility, she was like a beam of no expectations. She gave him the space to just exist without pressure. That and she was always fighting with his robot assistant MINA which also made each time returning back from fighting a little easier to endure.

“Listen MINA, I just think that you’d be more effective if you were pink, also can you pass me my pencil case.” She was sitting at the kitchen table, snacking on candy and working on an assignment from one of her professors on her Master’s Committee. MINA used an extended robot hand to fly over the pencil case that had been in her backpack.

“If I was pink, it would detract from my integrated design.” MINA floats around her head, observing her completed work thus far. “Your work is completely correct, why are you changing the grammatical structure?”

“For the love of the process MINA, for the love of the process.”

Kenji just ate another bite of his New York Strip, enjoying the free entertainment. When he finished his meal, he asked if she wanted to go out for an adventure.

Matching helmets, black and gold design with her wearing one of his extra leather jackets just in case. For safety he justified. The cool Tokyo air felt even colder as they rushed around the streets, lane splitting and cutting in between cars. The headphones had built in bluetooth so they were listening to a shared playlist they had made. Blending rap, RNB, pop, and EDM crafted the right ambiance needed for a late night drive.

In some ways, Tokyo was similar to LA. She reasoned that it might have been the lights to a certain degree, but here, the lights were brighter and bolder. Neon signs and air pollution were the common denominators between the two cities.

He takes a corner just a little too hard, and she instinctively tightens her arms around his waist, tucking her head a little closer to his shoulder.

They end up taking a break for a minute, pulling off the side of the road to grab some vending machine drinks. Tea for her, coffee for him.

That’s when his watch begins to blare red. She fidgets with the ring on her hand, she didn’t need to wear it around he told her, but the cool diamond gem had grown on her. Just as a precaution if the case workers came around to check on their ‘marriage’, that was the explanation she gave to him for why she always had her ring on. They never talked about why he always kept his on too, despite interviews asking and continuously pestering him about the ring. The baseball world had just concluded it was either a secret wife or for the style since he never gave an answer.

“I think you have to go do your whole superman thing.” She pointed at his watch that he was trying to ignore.

Kenji groaned a little, calling for a ride so she could get back to his place. MINA had already gotten to them by the time the watch had started to blare.

“Ken, it is time to mitigate the primary conflict in Shinjuku.” MINA did a bow with their robot body. She tried to throw a pebble at MINA to test for reaction time, that being said MINA caught the rock. She shrugged.

Back at the dungeon, also known as the Ultrabase much to her distaste for a name like that, she was surprised to see an elderly man with a crutch sitting on the couch in the central living room.

He was watching a big hologram screen, which now clearly looked like Kenji (in Ultraman form) fighting with a pink monster dragon thing. When he got a particularly nasty body slam she sucked in some air through her teeth.

“Ahh, hello strange girl in the Ultraman base.” He circled her for a moment, his crutch slowing down his assessment of her.

“Ahh, hi strange grandpa in the Ultraman base.” She waved, and the older gentleman introduced himself as Professor Sato.

“Kenji’s dad?” She checked.

“Yes, I’m his father.” She nods, getting a glass of water.

When Kenji gets back to the base, that’s when things get a little crazy. What was once a slimy egg turned into a cute komodo dragon mutant baby. She was all over the baby in an instant, trying to get to know it better.

“She’s adorable. I love her.” She was tapping the glass of the containment cylinder, cooing at the infant Kaiju. The baby seemed to respond positively, making little coos back and stomping around a little.

Kenji just folded his arms and took it all in. He was still trying to get rid of his dad, despite his father’s willingness to help out. He just couldn’t balance it all without Hayao’s help, he realized. Especially when Emi needed more assistance, and help avoiding the KDF’s insistent attacks. She loved Emi, despite the Kaiju having the ability to totally crush her, Emi reciprocated quickly to her. Considering the contrast in how long it took for Kenji to demonstrate that his Ultaman form and his regular self were the same through systematic desensitization.

They became a family, even if a family consisted of a pro-baseball player, his fake wife/best friend, an estranged but loving father, a Kaiju baby, and a robot assistant.

A learning curve consisted of a lot more mistakes and complaining, but at the end of it all, Kenji had to commit. He was Ultraman now. He needed to protect Tokyo. At least now he had a support system he could rely on. Slowly, changes occurred with him. Putting others before himself, really truly thinking about life and the value of other human beings. The catalyst was a Kaiju baby named Emi, especially the way that said Kaiju baby loved openly.

The misadventures of raising Emi were wild and laced with KDF fights, but in the end, Kenji and his dad were brought together by defending Kaiju in a unique way. The monsters weren’t intentionally villains, humans had just made them out to be like that. That’s life though, people defining and categorizing things into concepts and schemas that made sense to them.

That’s what his dad was doing when he and Emiko separated. Hayao was trying to find ways to open human eyes to the world and beauty of Kaiju. Living in tandem with them may not have been immediately possible but why shouldn’t it be ever given a chance? Professor Sato, his dad, wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, he was trying his best to make the world a little bit better. Forgiving a father who he once believed left him wasn’t an easy road, but it was a path that needed to be traveled.

Saying goodbye to Emi was rough, yet, the Kaiju Island was close enough to go and visit on occasion. Baseball was great, winning the championship and going into a post-season diffusement.

Yet, Kaiju still came and wreaked havoc, and Kenji still had to fight and protect Japan. Even if that meant coming back to the base bloodied and bruised. She was almost always there, wrapping his arms in white bandages and wiping off blood with towels. Running ice baths and making cold soba noodles.

Which is what she was doing at this moment, rinsing the noodles in ice water and stirring a sweet sauce for Kenji to pour over rather than dunk his noodles into.

He was resting a frozen water bottle on his shoulder, hoping it would numb the pain, the Kaiju just had to try and rip his good arm off didn’t it?

“Hey, can I come in? Got your soba.” She knocked on the bathroom door using her elbow, since both hands were carrying bowls of soba with sauce containers precariously resting on her lower palms.

“Yeah, I’m wearing swim trunks.”

“Good because I’m not ready to see you naked, like, ever.” She chuckled, but pulled a chair next to the ceramic tub, breaking her chopsticks and saying a quick itadakimasu. He copied her, immediately drowning his noodles in the sauce she set on the edge of the tub. She rolled her eyes at his action.

He laughed a little, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, “What, it tastes better like this.”

She hummed an affirmative sound, but her eyes glinted with an agree to disagree conclusion.

The noodles had been fully digested, but she was still there, dipping her fingers into the water and making small swirls. The frigid temperature makes her fingers feel detached from her body.

Kenji lowers himself in the tub for a moment, getting his hair wet. When he came back up, she was pushing his bangs away from his face, smiling. Her hand stayed in his hair, brushing the strands away from his face as they dropped droplets down the back of his neck and then into the tub again. The ice cubes bumped into each other, melting slowly but steadily.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, uttering a few words, “Hot tub?”

She nods and heads out of the bathroom to get a swimsuit on.

The pool on the second to bottom floor of the base had an attached hot tub. He turned on the low lights, leaving the space in a warm brown shade of yellow light. The glass wall gave an outlook over the city and the ocean that surrounded the base.

MINA zoomed into the pool area, “Shall I put on some smooth jazz Ken?”

“No. Do not do that.” Kenji waved off MINA with red stinging his ears. MINA states they were just trying to speed up the whole process, and quoted one of her favorite phrases adding an addendum of MINA’s understanding and AI learning, “For the love of the process, especially if it's about love.”

The hot tub was warm, not quite boiling, but warm. She rested her arms on the outside ledge of the tub, looking out through the window. Kenji came to her side and replicated how she was positioned, before remembering that his shoulder hurt and gave out a small sound of displeasure. She giggled a little, rubbing the back of his shoulder where there weren't any distinct injuries.

“You’ve changed a lot since we were in high school.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head so that it was on her crossed arms.

“That’s what happens with time.” He wants to ask why she brought up his self-improvement. But she cuts him off before any words settle in his mouth.

“Yeah, but you’ve made a lot of great changes. You’re actually friends with your teammates now. And you’ve taken on this whole responsibility for an entire country. You aren’t just Kenji Sato, you’re also Ken Sato, and Ultraman, and I like to think you’ve fully embraced your father again, and not to mention our friendship.” She looks up at the ceiling, “You’re like an actual adult now.”

“I’ve been an adult for way longer than you.”

“But not like this, like an actual responsible person. You can juggle everything now.”

She sniffles a little, “Which is why I can understand if you don’t want me to stay once I finish my program you know?”

Kenji grabs a hold of one of her hands, “What the hell? Why would you ever think I’d want to kick you out?”

She shrugs.

He continues, “I hate to say it, but I think you’re stuck with me. You know too much about my dark secrets.” She smirks in response to his teasing tone.

Kenji dives deeper into things he wished he would’ve said earlier.

“I mean, you already have the ring to prove it too.” Her mouth gapes open a little, raising an eyebrow.

It would be amiss to say that this wouldn’t alter everything, but it was time.

“I know that we’ve only ever been friends, but you need to know what I feel.”

“I think I already know.” She cups the side of his face, and he pulls her into him, and makes her face him. She’s sitting on the expanse of his thighs, and he looks up at her from how he’s leaning back onto the wall of the hot tub.

Wrapping arms around his neck, careful to not rest too much of her arm on his shoulder, she brings their noses to brush against each other.

“Mine now? Right? You’re mine now?” When she doesn’t respond he continues, “Pretty please? Mine?”

“I thought you said you never begged?” She grazes his lips with her own and he sighs with a light shudder in his chest.

“I’ll beg for this, for you.”

“Fair enough.”

He tightens his grip and pulls her flush to him. Angling his neck up and tilting his head, he kisses her. She smiles too much for it to be a proper kiss, but he keeps pressing against her mouth. When she stops smiling and starts responding with her own pressure of lips to lips, he has to suppress the hunger to bite her.

His tongue brushes against her bottom lip and she opens her mouth for him, he runs his tongue along the inner lining of her mouth before biting on the tip of her tongue when she tries to take her turn. He chuckles when she pulls back a little, nose crinkled and lips wet.

“C’mere.” He trails kisses down the side of her face, going to her neck and collarbones, glad that her swimsuit was low cut enough for him to graze the top of her chest, where the rise of her curves began. She just presses kisses to the top of his head while her hand tangles into the hair at his nape, twisting the locks into fake curls.

When their fingers were wrinkled from the water in the hot tub, they showered and curled up on his bed, watching a meaningless show.

“So, my thoughts are that we can just skip the dating thing and go straight to marriage since legally we already are.”

“My mom will kill me.”

“Good thing she loves me, just say we eloped.” He wraps his good arm around her and pulls her down to lay on the pillows. She snuggles into the silk blend pillow cases and murmurs a little, tired from a long day. He caresses the side of her face and rests his hand on her hip.

MINA flits around the base, erasing specific footage from the recordings in the pool room, for everyone’s benefit.

Kenji paced back and forth in the base, waiting for her to get back from babysitting Chiho, hoping that Ami’s date would end shockingly early for his benefit.

He’s still on the phone with her, “I don’t want to wait to see you.” He kicks a throw pillow that had fallen on the ground from the couch.

“Have patience, I’ll be back around one AM.”

“This is spousal abuse.”

“It really isn’t”

MINA chimed in and agreed with her, so she exclaimed and said that even a robot knows the truth that Kenji was just a little clingy.

“I think you should stop watching other people’s babies and come take care of your family. And by family, I mean me.”

“I know what you meant.”

He looks to the clock, three more hours of waiting would be excruciating. But at least she’d be back in time for him to wish her an extremely early happy anniversary with the new ring he got.

#ultraman #ultraman: rising #ultraman x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman rising #friends to lovers #slowburn #hot tubs play a role there somewhere #ken sato x reader #identity reveal #girl dad fr #best friends #best friends to lovers #pining #childhood friends to lovers #mutual pining #lilly's red string of fate

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months ago

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Omg! Love your biggest fan!! Are you still updating it? Like, where the world finds out it's them!? Can you imagine the chaos!!🙊

I don't think the world could find out with absolute certainty, there will just be rumours for the rest of their lives. It would be too damaging for their careers, family and probably their relationship too. But...there can be a little chaos.

Your Biggest Fan {3} || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, anal, angst WC: 2.4k One || Two || SMAU || Three

The Matriarch: We need to talk. Bring Lando.

The text left you cold inside and it was quickly followed with a dinner reservation at the yacht club. It had been two weeks since you deleted the Only Fans account. You had panicked when a picture of some unknown sub-reddit user showed up on your FYP, tagging Lando in it first and then you. You hadn't thought about how deleting it would come across to the people who had seen it.

"Relax, our faces were never seen," Lando assured you as he read the text message from your mother. "It's just, what's that word lawyers use?”

"Objection?"

"No," he snorted. "Heresy, herosy...hearsay, that's the one. The rumours will blow over, they always do.”

“Except these aren’t rumours, that was actually us.” You paced the room until he grew dizzy watching you and caught you around the waist, pulling you onto the couch with him. You squeaked as you fell back but his strong hands steadied you into his lap, and his beard tickled your neck.

“You’re stressing and I know just how to get you to relax.” The gravel in his voice and the hard length pressing against your ass had you wriggling closer and you leaned back so he could reach your lips.

“Come on then, big boy,” you murmured against his lips as you dragged his hands down your body and between your thighs. “Show me what these magic hands can do.”

He chuckled darkly in your ear and ran his fingers over the seam of your jeans, pressing the material over your clit. “My fingers, my tongue, my dick. It’s all magic, babygirl.”

You used Lando as an escape, the orgasms he gave you freeing you from the compulsive thoughts that plagued you. He grounded you when he swept you off your feet, hooking them around his waist as he ground into you against the hallway wall. Impatient for more than just your kiss, he dropped to his knees and dragged your jeans down your legs. By the time you made it to the bed your legs were trembling and Lando’s chin glistened with the evidence of your orgasm.

“Still stressing, love?” he teased as he pushed your knees back to your chest and paused a moment just to feast on the sight of your pussy begging for him.

“Like you would not believe,” you giggled, “but you’re getting there.”

He curled two fingers into your cunt and pumped them a few times until they were coated in your juices. “I think this will definitely take your mind off things,” he rasped as he teased your ring, gently probing you one finger at a time. “You gonna be a good girl for daddy?”

“Mhmmm,” you moaned as your tight muscle relaxed around his thick fingers. “Fuck that feels so good.”

“Just you wait,” he chuckled before reaching into the bedside drawer. The squirt of the bottle made you jump and the cold lube ran down your slit and over your ass, making you shiver at the change in temperature. “I’ll warm you up, babygirl.”

Lando ran his cock through the gel, his shaft teasing your folds until the tip rolled over your clit and you moaned at the sensation. “Haven’t even put it in you yet.”

You were going to tell him to hurry up when he pulled back and lined himself up with your ass. Slow, shallow rocks of his hips pushed the head against you, the swollen tip slowly spreading you more with each little thrust and you sighed at the heavenly throb beating in your core.

“More,” you begged as the thickest part of him pushed through the resistance and he froze.

“I don’t want to hurt you, babygirl, just take it slow. I’m still going to fuck you real good.”

His thumb circled your clit as he kept easing himself deeper, pulling back slightly before driving forward. Your breath lodged in your throat when your bodies met, his hips hitting your ass, and his fingers gripped your thighs tight enough to leave bruises while he bit his lip.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Feel fucking amazing,” he moaned.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the fullness of having him seated inside you but they quickly opened as he retreated from you almost completely before pumping his hips forward. “Holy fuck,” you cried as he dragged his cock along your tight walls, the sensation unlike anything your toys had given you. It was pure pleasure. “Harder, daddy, I can take it, please.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he couldn’t think clearly enough to remember to be gentle. He had the same need you did and he was happy to give you everything you asked for. “Take it, babygirl, you take my cock so well. Look at it stretching your hole, feels good, don’t it?”

You could only moan incoherent answers as liquid fire ignited on your skin, a feverish flush spreading from curled toes to ears that were ringing. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the pressure grew and Lando grunted as your walls tightened even more. You didn’t think you could peak any higher until two fingers curled into your cunt and found your g-spot too.

A scream tore from your throat as your body arched up beyond your control. You were a puppet and he was the puppetmaster playing with you.

“Keep coming, keep coming,” Lando growled as his brows pinched together in concentration. “Want to feel you rain all over me, babygirl.”

His wrist worked his fingers over the magic spot and your cries fell silent as your mind shut down. The lightning that splintered your vision short circuited your brain and your breath shuddered with each spurt that gushed from your cunt.

“Beautiful,” he whispered as he surrendered himself to his own release, filling your ass with his cream. “So fucking beautiful.”

Lando drove his McLaren to the yacht club that even he couldn’t get a membership for. Even in Monaco his McLaren stood out among the supercars but in the valet parking at the club it was just like every other car there. He hadn’t quite grasped exactly what being an heiress meant until that moment. It was one thing for him to never worry about affording a spontaneous holiday to a luxury island but he was just starting to realise your parents likely just bought the island.

For once, he felt a little out of place. He wished he could grab his hoodie from the car but there was a strict dress policy so he had donned a suit he usually saved for awards or galas.

"Did we drop you on your head, young lady?" your mother said the second you stepped into the private dining room, a ringed finger pointing to the two empty seats. "Only Fans, really?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," you lied as you sat down, Lando pushing your chair in before taking his seat. "You shouldn't believe the rumours."

"You think I don't know what your birthmark looks like? I gave birth to you." She turned her glare to Lando. "And you, how dare you put my daughter in that position."

He bit his lip and glanced down while you had to hide your laugh behind your hand. "Which position was that, mother? There has been quite a few."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. "I should have sent you to Saint Katherine's Boarding School when I had the chance."

"Probably, but just imagine what trouble I could have had with a priest." You laughed as Lando pinched your thigh under the table. Reaching over to his thigh, you traced the inside seam of his trousers higher until he snapped his legs together and your hand was pinned between them.

"Enough, your little rebellious streak is over. You've had your fun but you need to stop now," she snapped. "Your father wants you in Switzerland where he can keep an eye on you."

"I'm not a kid anymore, you can't tell me what to do."

"I can if you want to keep a roof over your head, or have you suddenly got a job to cover your expenses for life in the real world?" You shrugged nonchalantly while Lando took a sip of his drink, but she continued. "Or will your boyfriend be happy to let you drain his bank accounts?"

Lando placed his water back on the table and draped his arm over the back of your chair, his fingers teasing the bare skin in your shoulder. He had been tempted to keep you tied to his bed when he saw the gown you wore, you had looked absolutely divine he wanted to drown in you. "I'm happy to provide for her," he admitted honestly. “It would bring me great pleasure.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you grinned wickedly at his double entendre. “I’m sure my face, or at least my last name, could make enough on Only Fans to cover our bills.”

Your mother’s face dropped and she fidgeted with the delicate gold chain your father bought her. “Is that a threat?”

“I don’t know. You kind of started that anyway,” you shrugged. “How did you find out anyway?”

“It is our business to know what is happening in this family, in case of damage control. When those photos came across my desk…I have never felt so embarrassed.”

You cringed at the idea of her seeing even the most tame stills that could have possibly been taken and you covered your heated face in your hands. “Tell me about it.”

“Good, at least you can feel some kind of remorse. That gives me hope you’re not completely ruined beyond repair.”

You rolled your eyes as that ‘remorse’ quickly evaporated. If only she knew how ruined you were only hours ago when Lando was buried balls deep in your ass. You should have recorded it for all time's sake. “I guess I am fixable, yippy, so can we go now?”

“No,” she said as she reached under the table and pulled out a stack of documents. “I need you to sign these.”

You took the papers and saw it was an amendment to your trust fund. “What’s this?”

“That is your future and it is for you to decide what you do with it.” She took a sip of her favourite Bordeaux wine before continuing, the same tactics she used to fill you with dread when you were growing up. “Sign the documents and your trust fund and inheritance remain yours, but-”

“Here we go, stipulations,” you groaned. “Go on, what are they now?”

“Three rules. One, if a single new nude photo comes across my desk, then this gets burned. You will have nothing. Do you understand that? The clubs, the cars, the plane, the yacht, the apartment. Gone.”

You sighed and gave her a small nod as you reached into your handbag for a pen. “Yes, mother.”

“Two. No nude videos, private or otherwise. No streaming on Only Fans or any other porn site.”

You didn’t correct her on the fact it wasn’t strictly a porn site. That probably wouldn’t go down very well so you kept your lips shut and nodded as you opened the cap off your fountain pen.

“I understand, no fun on camera.”

“This isn’t a joke,” she sniped.

“I know, I was serious,” you huffed as you reached for the dotted line.

The nib rested on the thick paper, the cerulean ink staining the fibres as you started to sign your life away. “Three. You end this relationship now.”

The cursive lettering shot off the page as you tore your hand back. “No.”

“It is non-negotiable.”

You snapped the cap back on and shoved the pen in your bag. “Exactly, I am not signing that.”

“Don’t throw your life away for a boy, especially one that wants to treat you so…revoltingly. You are degrading yourself, honey.”

Lando’s hand had slipped away from your shoulders and you caught it before he could bury it in his pockets. “Don’t listen to her, I don’t.”

“And look where you are, hmm.”

“I could agree to everything else, but not that. I love him more than the clubs, the cars, the plane, more than anything you can offer me.” You rose from the table with your handbag, throwing a handful of cash on the table knowing it would piss her off. She loved to flash her unlimited black card.

Lacing your fingers with Lando’s, you smiled at him before sparing one last look at your mother’s pained face. “Just so you know, it wasn’t his idea. I was degrading myself way before he subscribed to my channel.”

“Is that supposed to endear me to him? Knowing that you were acting like a whore and he still decided to date you.”

“That’s enough. You don’t talk to her that way, it doesn’t matter how you are related,” Lando snapped as he tucked you into his side. “Come on, love, let’s go home. I’ll take care of you.”

“Here, you can keep it all.” You plucked your keyring out of the bag as you passed your mother’s seat where she remained frozen. She made no move to take the key to the apartment and the car that had been bought with your trust fund so you placed it on the empty setting where your father should have been. “Maybe one day I can lose the family name too.”

Lando grinned at the idea of replacing it with his. “How does Norris sound?”

You tested the name on your tongue as if you hadn’t already imagined spending the rest of your lives together. He was your forever person, you had known that for a long while. With a skip in your step you left the private dining room and all but raced out of the club. You tugged your hair out of the styled updo before tugging Lando’s tie off and capturing his lips while you waited for his car to arrive.

You were breathless and needy when you finally broke apart, the valet drivers looking away with pink cheeks. “Y/N Norris,” you hummed as you unbuttoned his top three buttons and bared some of his tanned chest. “I like it, big boy.”

His head dipped close to your ear as he growled quietly. “You have no idea what this is doing to me right now. I would very much like to bend you over the hood of my car and fuck you when you say that.”

“What? Big boy?” you teased, giggling when he shook his head. “I love you, perv.”

“Love you too, babygirl.” He took his car key from the man who had climbed out and slapped your ass with a grin. “Now get in the car before I get us arrested.”

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 smut

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iateyourparents · 1 year ago

Text

wiping kisses | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you decide to prank your boyfriend with wiping his kisses.

warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english is not my first language)

an: i present to you colby’s version of wiping kisses! here’s sam’s version!

pictures are from pinterest:)

Your plan wasn’t exactly easy but you were determined. Your goal was to prank Colby.

You saw a tik tok where a girl pranked her boyfriend by wiping places where he kissed her. And you decided that you need to try it on Colby.

One thing about your boyfriend was that he was very affectionate. One of his love languages was touch and kisses so you knew he probably wouldn’t like you wiping his kisses. But you still decided to tease him.

You already knew it wouldn’t be an easy task - hell, you loved kissing him as much, if not more, as him, so just a single thought about wiping those places was difficult.

But you liked challenges so why not?

So here you were, sitting on a couch and busying yourself on your phone while Colby was editing in your sharing bedroom. You knew him like the back of your hand and from his groaning coming from upstairs you knew that no longer than five minutes later he will come to you, ask what to order for lunch and sit next to you just to ‘sneakily’ make his way into your arms.

It always looked like this on his days off.

True to your words, whole two minutes later he was hovering over you with his phone in hand.

“I will order lunch for us. What would you like?” he asked.

“What about some pasta?” you looked at him with smile which he reciprocated and nodded.

“Sounds good to me, baby.” then he sat next to you and started ordering on his phone “Should be here in thirty.” he stated.

“Alright, do you want something to drink?” you asked quickly when he tried to kiss your cheek and then you stood up and started making your way to the kitchen.

“Water, please.” you heard him shouting from other room.

You took water and your favorite drink from refrigerator and made your way back to Colby.

When you gave him his bottle and sat next to him, he thanked you quietly and kissed your cheek.

It took everything in you to lift your hand and wipe the place off.

Colby didn’t seem to notice anything weird and just placed his hand around your shoulders, leaning into you.

Next time he kissed you was maybe five minutes later. He just lifted his head from your shoulder and kissed said shoulder. And this time he noticed you wiping it since you had to change position to reach your hand there. He furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing when you hugged him again.

Couple of minutes later and he placed his arms around your waist to lift you and place you on his laps so now you were straddling him.

You placed your hands behind his neck but didn’t do anything else even though you knew he wanted you to start a kiss. He finally was done with waiting and started placing little kisses all around your face and when he stopped and you wiped all places he touched with his lips, he knew something was off but decided to keep quiet and see what will you do next.

But when you did nothing apart from smiling softly at him, he placed a delicate kiss on your lips just to deepen it a moment later. You reciprocated it but literally a second after you stopped kissing you wiped off your lips with the back of your hand.

“Is everything okay love?” you could see concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, why?” you asked innocently.

He shrugged “I don’t know, you seem…kinda off?”

“No, I’m okay.” you assured with a smile and laid your head on his shoulder.

He still wasn’t convinced but decided to just kiss side of your head. Again, you wiped it.

“Okay, what did I do?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder and tilted it “What do you mean?”

“You’re wiping my kisses off..” he whined.

“I do not?” you faked confusion.

“Y/n.” his ton was lower and you knew you were testing his patience.

“What?”

“Stop it” he kissed your nose and when you tried to reach your hand there he caught your hand in the air then doing the same to your other hand “What’s going on?”

“Nothi…”

“Don’t even try lying love.” he interrupted you and you pouted. Well, you kind of achieved your goal, he was irritated but you also felt bad seeing him upset.

“Alright” you smiled softly kissing his nose “I saw this prank with wiping kisses on tik tok and decided to do it on you.”

Colby analyzed your words and then shook his head with small smile.

“You’re lucky I love you so much because right now I want to throw you into cold water.” you only laughed at that. Then you kissed him and well, he no longer could found it in himself to even try to be mad at you.

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #sam and colby #snc #prank #katrina stuart #sam golbach

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explicit-tae · 11 months ago

Note

ik it would be very out of character but i’d LOVE to see ungodly hour’s jk react to oc admitting she likes (or loves 🫣) him!! knowing him he’d cry

thank you for your amazing work !!!! ly<3

honestly let me just write about it

Ungodly Hour

Word Count: 3.413

Warning: dirty talking, oral sex (f), alcohol intake, intoxicated/unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, overstimulation, riding, love confessions,

“Okay,” Jungkook enters the living room hastily as you arrive, a gift bag in your hand. “I finally finished it.”

“You know you didn’t have to make me wait until you were done.” you tell Jungkook as you sit on the couch. “I’ve had the gift for weeks now.”

“We couldn’t exchange gifts until mine was complete.” Jungkook says.

Jungkook had insisted on waiting to exchange gifts. You knew he was making you something - he kept it hidden in an extra bedroom that he locked to assure you didn’t peek. He also refused to look at whatever gift you got him and prompted that you take it out the house so he himself would be tempted.

“Well,” you hold out the gift bag - it’s medium sized and a sparkly blue. “Merry Christmas.”

Jungkook notes that you’re nervous as he takes the bag and he isn’t sure why. He would be happy with whatever you gave him - even if he was surprised initially that you told him you got him a gift. He would often think about what it was.

Jungkook opens the gift bag and takes out the rectangular box. He sees the bottom first - it’s a solid yellow color. He flips it around to inspect it, the rest of the sides being black. His eyes capture the name on the top of the box. His eyes widened.

“Y/N…?”

Now Jungkook understands why you’re nervous. His eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “This camera is expensive!” he gasps. “How did you know-”

“I saw it on your wishlist.” you say, licking your lips. “When you let me borrow your laptop, you left a few tabs open.”

You weren’t going to admit that you were snooping for answers. Jungkook seemingly had everything there was to get and buying a gift for him was becoming difficult.

Jungkook opens the box gently, his eyes softening at the camera. “You must’ve spent a lot on it…” he says, trailing off. He knows the exact price and knowing that you spent thousands on a gift for him pulls at his heart strings. “Thank you.”

You give Jungkook a smile. “I can finally quit my job now that I’ve spent a few checks on a gift.” you say, joking with Jungkook to lighten the mood.

“You can!” Jungkook smiles back with a nod.

“Just kidding.” you sing-song. “Don’t be so gullible.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and snorts. He places the camera beside him. “Always teasing me with a good time.” he murmurs. “Now for yours.”

Jungkook had wrapped the canvas neatly. It’s a decent size, you noticed, maybe 11 inches all around. Your heart is beating with anticipation as you unwrap it.

Jungkook awaits your reaction, his own nerves hiking. “Do you…like it?” he murmurs. You haven’t said anything and instead have been analyzing the painting silently, expression unreadable.

The painting is full of life, emotion. The scenery is what you initially noted, a mountain of flowers that seemingly went on for miles by the way Jungkook had painted it. The flowers are colorful, different shades of yellow, orange and pink. The sky holds bright gray clouds, covering the sun that appears to be setting. What captures your attention fully are the hands. Both pairs of hands are connected by the pinky with one wrist sporting a gold watch and the other a bracelet while the arms are painted to appear out of the canvas frame.

“This is us.” you say aloud, glancing up at Jungkook. It was a picture you and he had taken a few weeks back. You recall telling Jungkook that it was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together that didn’t showcase faces.

Jungkook nods. “It is.” he agrees. “You said it was your favorite picture so I painted it.”

Your throat tightens at his words.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook, you think, because this was entirely too much for you to handle. Your mother didn’t raise a weak woman who felt like she was seconds away from crying tears because of how happy she felt.

You blame it on your period that must be nearing - even if you never cry on your period.

“Thank you.” you murmur to Jungkook, glancing away shyly to avoid his gaze. “I love it.” you say sincerely, and the admission causes Jungkook to smile.

“You’re d-drunk.” Jungkook snorted before full on laughing as you stumbled through his bedroom door.

“Fuck you.” you retort, plopping yourself down onto Jungkook’s large bed. “So are you.” you slur back.

Jungkook doesn’t deny it.

This is what happens when you drink with friends - more importantly, Jimin. It was nothing new, Jimin always insisted on going into the new year buzzed - this time, they all just went a little overboard. Luckily, Jungkook had agreed for the party to be at his apartment so he could just walk down the hall to his bedroom.

Of course, Jungkook would soon come to regret it because that meant that he would have to clean the mess they made in the morning - but you were with him, so that was a plus.

“Not as drunk as you.” Jungkook closes the door behind him, along with the loud music and laughter of everyone just down the hall in his living room. “Told you to not challenge Jimin.”

“Fuck Jimin…” you murmur to yourself, more so because Jungkook was right.

However, you wouldn’t say you challenged Jimin - he was the one who came to you with a whole cup of alcohol declaring that you were, in his words, too much of a coward to drink.

It was a complete set up, Jungkook knows this, but the only thing he could do was assure you had water and a lot of greasy food ready for when you were going to need it - and luckily he was there to do so. You’re sure you would’ve been passed out long ago.

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, an attempt to get a look at your lying figure. You and he had matched tonight - an idea that was yours. You wore a long sleeved-black dress with a deep v cut that stopped mid thigh while he wore a compressed black shirt (by your request ) and ripped jeans.

“Do you need to throw up?” Jungkook asks, stumbling closer to you when he hears a low moan-like whine. “I told you not to drink so-“

“Shut up,” you sit up and look directly at Jungkook. “Can I sit on your face?”

Jungkook stops in his tracks, his doe eyes widening slightly. Yes is what he wants to say - he loves the act of pleasuring you. However, he’s unsure if he should be doing anything with you in your intoxicated state.

“You’re drunk-“

“We’re drunk.” you correct, eyes narrowing at him - and also focusing on him all of the same because the room was still spinning.

“True.” Jungkook murmurs to himself, trailing off. “Still, I don’t want to take advantage-“

“Save the theatrics, Kookie.” you’re already tugging your underwear off, the lacy material falling right by his bed. “Unless you…”

You don’t finish your sentence and Jungkook titls hisnhead. “What?”

“…unless you suddenly don’t like me anymore.” you whisper, and slowly, your eyes widen as if you had figured out the biggest secret. No other world conspiracy was important - not the Bermuda triangle, not whoever the fuck Jack the Ripper is or whether if Atlantis was ever real. No, not even your favorite cold cases could be as important as this new revelation of Jeon Jungkook not liking you anymore.

“Now you’re extremely drunk .” Jungkook cackles. “Of course I like you!”

It brings Jungkookk back to when you were convincing him that you liked him, now it was the other way around. His heart swells with your drunken ramblings and overall cute appearance.

“You don’t.” You cross your arms over your chest. “You refuse to have me sit on your face.” you say, and Jungkook realizes that he truly spoils you like everyone claims he does - you never got told no to mainly anything.

“So who gets to sit on your face?” you ask with narrow eyes. “I bet-“

“Don’t say that girl's name.” Jungkook cuts you off before you can get started. “You know you’re my girl, Y/N.”

“So you hate me.” you deadpan, saying the words matter-of -factly. “All of a sudden you aren’t obsessed-“

“I am!” Jungkook interrupts, raising his voice. He couldn’t believe that this was a conversation that needed to be had and if he remembered this sober, it’s something he was definitely going to tease you about.

“Hm.” you uncross your arms and stand to your feet. “I'm going to go party with Jimin.”

Jungkook steps in front of you. “You aren’t wearing any underwear.” he states. “That and you’re already had enough to drink-“

“If you aren’t going to fuck me,” you wave your hand in his face to stop his speech. “then I’m going to go out there and drink with Jimin.”

If Jimin knew that he was the person that would be used against him it would cause ultimate chaos in the groupchat and in his friend group.

Jungkook licks his lips. He doesn’t have time to entertain his and your friends any longer. He can only imagine how it would look if he chased after you because you wanted to be drunk and petty. The room is already spinning for him as it is for you and he knows that it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“You’re such a bitch…” Jungkook murmurs, tone low. It’s a tone that you’re all too familiar with - and you know that you had Jungkook where you wanted him. “Get on the bed.”

You do as you’re told, laying on Jungkook’s bed and open your legs, dress hiking up entirely.

Jungkook drops to his knees and hooks his hands beneath your thighs. You yelp when he snatches you closer to him. His lips place themselves onto your inner thigh and he presses a kiss. “I spoil you too much.”

Jungkook kisses closer and closer to your heat and he does so to tease you. “You looked so good tonight.” He couldn’t help but cave, wanting to give you whatever you wanted of him.

Fingernails dig into your skin as Jungkook speaks against your skin.

“You did, too.” you hitch your breath when you feel Jungkook's lips directly against your clit.

Jungkook kisses it gently. “Thank you, baby. So needy.”

Your back arches when you feel it, wet tongue sliding directly up your clit. He dips it between your folds, holding you directly still so he can pleasure you like you desperately wanted him to.

Eyes flickering up, Jungkook grunts. So beautiful, he always thinks of you. You couldn’t help but grow spoiled because he never told you no for anything. However, it wasn’t something he could help - you don’t ask for much to begin with.

The room continues to spin, but you no longer care. Your body erupts with arousal and it clouds your being entirely. You should’ve never drunk as much as you did, but there was no taking back the past. Besides, you cannot remember being filled with lust when you would drink prior - you’re unsure why you appear so insatiable.

“Feels so good, Kookie.” you moan, hips buckling against the rhythm of his tongue. The top half of the dress constricts your body entirely and you cannot wait until you can get out of it. “So, so good.”

Jungkook's eyes are as dark as can be and he’s positive he is a man starved right now. The alcohol runs through his system and causes his movement to be sloppy, but capable. His tongue completely savors your arousal, suckling on your clit to dipping between your folds and now, plunging it inside of you entirely.

“You must want me to fuck you.” Jungkook disclosed. “Your pussy’s clenching around nothing.”

How correct Jungkook was and you’re far from sober, so there was no snarky remark for you to retort with. You were beyond your regular self - you weren’t going to deny anything because you truly, desperately wanted Jungkook.

Your sober self would surely be screaming at you when your intoxication wore off.

Jungkook would lean back a bit every few minutes, his lips and chin fully coated in you. His tongue would still be flicking against your swollen clit and he’s truly doing this as an act to tease you further. He likes when your breath - that you’d be holding - would release when he gave you a bit of a teasing break, all before he devoured you once more.

“Kookie,” you moan Jungkook’s name so lovingly - it’s hard not to want to be between your legs for hours. His hand is bruising the skin of your thigh to hold you against his tongue. “wanna cum.”

Jungkook’s eyes stare into yours, a silent telepathic moment that tells you that he wasn’t stopping you from cumming. But he is also not a fool when it comes to you or your body and soon, you feel your pussy - so greedy to be stuffed and full - stretched out with his fingers.

Jungkook loves your whimpering and moaning - more so when you don’t hide them from his ears. There’s a party right outside his door where people are all huddling to celebrate the new year, and here the two of you were forgetting about them entirely.

Jungkook plunges his fingers deep inside of you. He hits the familiar sweet spot he knows so well, your thighs quivering in the process. His tongue licks circles around your clit, fingerings thrusting rhythmically. Your moans bounces off the walls and louder than the muffled music in the background.

Jungkook doesn’t mind when your hands grip his hair tightly because he just knows that you’re going through it - and he has no intention of stopping until you’re cumming on his tongue. It’s close, he notes, the way your walls are clenching around his fingers greedily and your cries grow louder and louder in contrast to the way your fingers grips into his hair.

Jungkook allows you to ride against your own high, laying his tongue flat against your clit and allowing you to grind against his tongue, fingers plunging deep inside of you. Your high comes hard, body twitching and Jungkook allows it all to happen, determined to make sure you are satisfied completely before he stops.

You feel dizzy when your high slowly comes down, your forehead lined with sweat and your body completely flushed. Your body molds itself against Jungkook’s soft sheets, your breathing slowing down.

“Where are you going…?” you ask Jungkook when you no longer feel his presence before you. Your eyes flutter open.

“Nowhere.” Jungkook responds sincerely. “We should get you out of this dress for bed-”

“Bed?” your senses peak and you jolt upright, eyes narrowed once more. “I want to ride you first.”

Jungkook snorts and stumbles back a bit at your sudden action. “You’ve already came so hard, baby. Are you sure-”

You aren’t listening to Jungkook in the slightest. You’re tugging the dress off of you entirely and getting naked right before his eyes.

Jungkook is but a man and there isn’t much convincing he needs - especially not when you’re tugging him towards you needily. You connect your lips to his while pushing him against the bed. Jungkook loves how needy you are - how much you express that you want him. Of course, he knows that you do any other time - but this time it’s different; getting to witness just how much you want him is a feeling he never knew he craved.

Your fingernails dig into Jungkook’s clothed shoulders as you slowly feel him inside of you. You push him backwards so that he’s laying on the bed, your hips rising and falling.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, hands firmly on your hips. You’re going so fast, fully determined to cum once more - and Jungkook couldn’t be upset. Your face displays just how good you felt in this moment. “your pussy feels so good, baby.”

Your pussy clenches around Jungkook as if responding to his words. By the time the pair of you were done, you were going to be bruised entirely with Jungkook’s hand marks.

Jungkook finds it hard to look at you - not when you looked so completely fucked out and beautiful. He’s unsure where your stamina appeared - maybe you were just that fucked out and drunk; that you didn’t care that you were overstimulating yourself (and him).

Jungkook clenches his eyes shut to get the image of you out of his head, but all it does is follow him in his thoughts. Your naked figure using him to pleasure yourself, your bouncing breast to your creaming pussy dripping all over him and making a complete mess.

Jungkook is so hot - so beautiful himself. He’s hissing to himself with clenched eyes, experiencing pure bliss just as you were. His forehead is covered in sweat and a few strands of hair are sticking to it.

Jungkook feels a hand upon his cheek and his eyes open. They're so dark and full of lust - similar to your own. Your eyes connect to his and Jungkook swallows, adam’s apple bobbing.

“Drunk Y/N is so needy.” Jungkook jokes, voice deep and raspy. “Drunk actions are sober intentions.”

Jungkook begins to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm. His thrusts are brutal, fully determined to satiate your hunger for him. His eyes never leave yours, the pair of you stuck in an intimate, lust-filled moment.

“I-I’m gonna cum again!” you mewl, breaking eye-contact first to shut them tight. The familiar sensation bubbles into you again and Jungkook only fucks into you harder, pounding with all his might; how the both of you could be drunk and full of stamina is beyond him.

Your walls are squeezing around Jungkook and within seconds, your juices squirt around Jungkook entirely, fully coating his abdomen. “I-I-” Your body is twitching, your head pushed back when Jungkook hears your words. “I love you.”

Jungkook is still for a moment, completely silent. He’s contemplating if he heard you correctly and before he can speak, you repeat yourself. “I love you.” it’s low and a bit slurred, but Jungkook hears it entirely.

“You’re drunk.” Jungkook laughs it off, cheeks flushed and heart beating out his chest. He doesn’t want to call you a liar - you wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true. However, you’re drunk and maybe you meant to say you loved the way he was fucking you -

“Shut up,” you say, walls tightening on Jungkook’s cock. “I do love you.”

You yelp when you feel your back hit the soft mattress, all without Jungkook removing himself from inside of you. The room continues to spin for you two, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care.

“You’re going to forget you said that.” Jungkook begins to thrust, holding you close in his embrace. “Gonna deny it until the end of time.”

“I love you.” you repeat and Jungkook’s pounding only increases. Skin slapping echoes off the wall and the two of you are so entranced in the moment that neither of you notice the music dying down outside the room. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Jungkook whimpers with a shake of his head. His thoughts are consumed by your words - the love confession.

Jungkook could never get tired of hearing it and at this moment, you don’t get tired of saying it. You repeat it over and over again as Jungkook continues to fuck inside of you. You’re creaming his cock, a white ring forming around the shaft and Jungkook couldn’t get enough of you.

I love you.

You love him, Jungkook’s thrilled at the revelation. His head drops back as his body tenses up, his thrust becoming sloppy. “Say it again, baby.” he pleads with a choked whimper. He needed to hear you say it again, as selfish as it was - he’s unsure how long it’d be before he could hear it again.

“Fuck,” your pussy is seeping with arousal and staining his sheets, your clit swollen and pulsing. “I love you, Kookie.”“Oh, shit…I love you, too, baby.” Jungkook continues to stretch your pussy completely until he’s shooting hot cum directly inside of you, a hand directly on your stomach as he does so. He’s panting, the both of you covered in sweat and bodily fluids.

#bts smut #jungkook x reader #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #bangtanwriters net #btswriterscollective #explicit-tae #jungkook fluff #ungodly hour drabbles #ungodly hour #bts fluff #bts college au #simp jungkook

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b3ach-bunn7 · 4 months ago

Text

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

You and Touya have been hooking up. But recently, it feels like something more, and it all comes it head in his bedroom

A fanfic based off my current fav song, causal by chappel roan !

—————————————————————————-

The consistent hum of the fan aimed at your face does nothing to ease the heat prickling your skin and the sick feeling bubbling in your stomach.

You’ve just gotten out of the shower and you should be cool, but August sun pours in from all corners of the room, despite the closed windows. Not your room, though. Touya’s room. The evidence is everywhere, from the t-shirts littered on the floor to the abandoned bass guitar leaning against his messy desk. His walls are empty apart from one pin board, adorned with post-it notes and movie stubs and pictures of his friends, one of you and him in the middle.

You’re in his bed now. Have been since you’d stepped out of his bathroom and quickly changed. The sheets are rumpled from earlier and you sigh. Your skin smells like Touya. His shampoo and his shower gel you’ve smelt on him too many times to count. Smelt on him as he spread you out across his bed and kissed down your torso.

You wish you could say that he was a doting boyfriend that had offered you a shower after a passionate night together. Instead, you can hear him bustling around his kitchen most likely getting himself food and you none.

You didn’t even know what to call him. A friend? A boyfriend? A lover? All you knew was that the second he messaged you to come over you did so running. And could you be blamed? Youd been friends with Touya for three years and you’d liked him for two. How could you not? That dusty white hair that was always perfectly unkept, the piercings, the motorbike. So yes, when he’d approached you one day, the two of you drunk of a bottle of his fathers vodka, you complied, practically jumped into his lap. You were as prepared as anyone else when he told you it would be casual, no attachments.

But that’s not what it felt like.

He did too much. Too much to label this as friends with benefits and nothing else. He introduced you to his family, for gods sake. Well, introduced was a strong word to use.

You’d be in his bed, only wearing one of his shirts and nothing more. He had been pacing around the room, complaining about some argument he’d had with his dad when someone had knocked frantically on his door. You both froze. Touya had assured you he was home alone, and after the sounds you’d been making not long ago, you were really hoping that was true.

You got up quickly, practically diving across the room to grab your trousers from the floor.

“Touya, you said we were home alone!”

“We are!” He whispered furiously. He dug through one of his dressers and pulled out a bra.ome of your favourites, to be more precise. Before you could comment he waved at you to put it on.

“No, we are clearly not.” You stand up and he curses under his breath.

“Who is it?” He calls out.

“It’s me! Open the door.” The voice is small and young and you grin.

You’d heard of Touya’s siblings, obviously. You’d even seen Fuyumi once or twice around school. But you’d never actually met them, especially little Shoto. Touya knew how much you loved kids and did all he could to keep you two apart.

“Piss off.” Touya says. You tut, shoving his arm and get up to open the door.

“Mum says you can’t say that word to me anymore. She says that-“ Shoto’s words are cut off as soon as he sees you. His eyebrows furrow, his little fist raised to knock on the door stuffed in his pocket. He peers up at you, one eye blue and the other brown, and squints.

“Who are you?”

You tell him your name and crouch down in front of him. “It’s nice to meet you. You’ve got very cool eyes.”

“Thanks. My mum and dad gave them to me.”

You laugh slightly. Shoto looks behind you and scowls at Touya.

“Mum says you have to come help with the shopping and also you aren’t allowed girls in your room.” His voice is traced with the lilt of an annoying younger sibling, but you can’t help but find him adorable.

“Shut up, you brat. Don’t tell me what to do.” Touya brushes past and flicks Shoto on the head. He grabs your hand and tugs you to your feet.

“Come on. You’re gonna have to meet my mum.”

Before you can protest he’s dragging you down the stairs, the pattering of tiny feet following behind you. When you enter the kitchen, Touya drops your hand. Fuyumi’s washing a bowl of fruit at the sink, Touya’s other brother (Natsuo, you think) is filling up the fridge, and the woman you assume to be his mother is chopping onions. She’s beautiful. That’s the first thing you notice. She looks young to have four kids, and she smiles warmly at you when she notices your presence in the kitchen. You’re not necessarily shy, but the eyes of Touya’s family planted on you is almost enough to have you hide behind him. But of course, he’s no help. He just reaches for a bag of groceries and waves at you.

“This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Natsou, Fuyumi and my mother.” He doesn’t look away from where he’s filling up a cupboard with cans of soemthing

You smile. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“It’s lovely to meet you too! Nice to finally put a face to the name I hear all the time.” His mother smiles. You glance at Touya who is actively avoiding eye contact.

“He talks about me?”

“Oh, all the time. If anything, we can’t get him to shut-“

“Mum.”

“Sorry, sorry!” She holds up a hand in surrender but she sends you a wink.

“What are you guys doing home so early, anyways?” Touya asks.

“Dunno, we finished up early. What, we interrupting something?” Natsou grins and Touya smacks the back of his head. “Ow. Your girlfriend won’t like you anymore if you’re mean to me, you know.”

“Fuck off, you freak.”

“Language, Touya.” His mum sighs.

You ignore the warm feeling in your chest at Touya not denying the girlfriend allegations. You grab a bag from the floor and join Touya. His mother protests and tries to grab it from you.

“No, please, it’s fine, Mrs Todoroki.”

“Honey, you’re in my house, of course it’s not okay. And please, call me Rei.” She grabs the bag out of your hand and dumps it in a reluctant Touya’s.

“You go sit inside, I’ll send Touya to you soon.”

You oblige after much more argument. The living room is small. You remember Touya telling you this house was all his mum could afford after the divorce. But it didn’t matter, because despite the size it felt like a home. Trophies from Natsou’s sport events, pictures of the family at Christmas. It was cozy, all blue hues and pillows on every seat. You sat back but you weren’t alone for long. Shoto walked in, carrying two lollipops in his hands. He clambers onto the couch next to you and holds one out.

“For you.”

“Why thank you, Shoto, that’s very kind.” You take it out his hand, unwrap it quickly and pop it in your mouth. You watch him struggle with his for a moment before you offer to open it for him. You do so quickly and he nods his thanks. When he does speak again, it’s around the sweet that’s already staining his tongue blue.

“Are you Touya’s girlfriend?” You shake your head no.

“Good. You’re way too pretty for him.”

You snort a laugh. “You know, I agree. And I think you’re way too cute to be his little brother.”

Shoto nods. He kicks his feet up and down.

“Cool socks.” You point. They’re adorned with a little spiderman and he wriggles his feet at your comment.

“I know. I love spiderman.”

“I love spiderman too!”

Shoto nearly smiles then. The boy is quite monotone, you realise, but he perks up at the mention of the superhero. “He’s so cool. I wanna be a hero when I’m older. Like him.”

“I say you do it. Going to have to have big strong muscles to do that.” You point out.

Shoto almost rolls his eyes. “I already have big strong muscles. Look.” He brandishes his skinny arms and you gasp.

“Wow! How do you lift your arms up with this gun show?” You tickle under his arm and he giggles.

“Cause I’m a hero, duh.” He does roll his eyes this time you grin. You have an idea then. Something that always made your own little sister crack a smile.

“Well, can you fly?”

Shoto looks at you like you’re stupid. “Of course not.”

You pretend to think for a second. You tap your chin with your finger and you stand up slowly. You reach your hands forward and move your fingers.

“You sure?” You drag out the syllables of your words.

“Very.”

You suddenly reach forward and pick him up. He squeals as you spin him around, and drop him back on the couch.

“Liar, you can fly!”

He laughs, finally, and throws his arms in the air. “Again!”

You do the same thing and he squeals again, arms coming to grab your shoulders. You’re both laughing, slightly breathless, when you notice Touya standing at the door. He has a look on his face you can’t quite decipher, but it feels so fond you have to avert your gaze.

You’d stayed for dinner that day, much to the excitement of Shoto, who couldn’t seem to leave your side. You felt comfortable with his family and despite Touya’s silence throughout the meal, you enjoyed yourself.

You wonder where his family is now. It’s just you and Touya in the house, and he’s still doing whatever downstairs.

Your phone buzzes and you reach over the bed to grab it from its place on the bedside table. It’s your friends. They’re all out apparently, and asking where you are. One of them jokes that she ‘hopes you’re not with Touya again��. You’re sure they’re all laughing. You’re so happy at least somebody is enjoying all of this.

It’s not that they don’t like Touya. They’ve met him a couple times, at parties and when you’re sitting together in school. They think he’s funny and they definitely think he’s hot. The whole school does. Who can resist the bad boy with hair over his eyes and a tongue piercing? What they don’t like about Touya is how he treats you.

They’ve heard the rumours. Most people have, that you and him are hooking up. Which you guess is true. There’s nothing wrong with that. What your friends are more worried about is how he treats you like his girlfriend one day and an acquaintance at best the next. The more harsh friends of yours call you a loser for putting up with it. You thought that was a bit much before but you feel like a loser now.

You run a hand across your neck. More hickeys you’ll have to cover before school. Touya loves marking you, something he mumbled into your skin one day. You did the same to him once and he was off with you for a bit. The next time you saw him he told you that ‘we’re not together’ and that it sent mixed signals. To who? That’s what you wanted to ask. But it’s casual so you nodded and agreed, and your shirt was off in the next breath.

You wish that it was easier. That you didn’t feel as much as you did, in particular towards him. Maybe it would’ve been easier then. If it was all just sexual then yes, maybe you could end it. Block his number and tell him to stop talking to you.

But you can’t.

You think you might love him. If not now, then soon, if things keep going the way they are. Because Touya has never treated it like it was casual, like you weren’t together. There’s no way with how he kisses you. So softly. How on some days, when he shows up to your house in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, he holds you like you’re the only thing stopping him from drowning. How, in the backseat of his car, he told you about his father, explained away each scar littered across his body. There was no way that, all from a boy everybody knew had no attachments, meant nothing.

He’d never admit it though. You knew this. You’d spent the past month rolling it around your head, and you knew that’s why you had to end it. Whatever the hell this was.

Your thoughts are cut off as the door to his bedroom swings open. Touya walks in with two packets of crisps and a can of coke. He throws one at you and you let it fall in front of you.

“Food is fuel. Eat up.” He says, cracking the can open with his teeth.

You shake your head. “I’m not hungry.”

He falls on the bed next to you. You scoot backwards and he’s laying on his stomach, and takes a swig of his drink. He’s only wearing boxers and you actively avert your eyes from him. You instead focus your gaze on your hands that fiddle in your lap.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He makes a noise.

Touya sits up slightly and moves towards you. His forearms rest either side of your legs and he kisses your neck, licks over the marks he’d left not long ago, before reaching your lips. And you allow yourself to forget for a moment as he kisses you. He reaches a hand up to cup your face, teeth nipping your bottom lip. And it’s then, with how tenderly his fingers stroke your cheek, you remember. You remember your friends calling you a loser, the way he dropped your hand when his family saw him holding it.

You push him back and get up. You shake your head as he furrows his brows.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t do this anymore.” You just say it. The words spit out your mouth like you can’t hold them in any longer. Touya sits up now, and his face is changing from confused to angry bit by bit.

“What do you mean?”

“This! The fucking, and- and the kissing and the sleeping together, everything! I can’t do this anymore!” You yell. You walk further away from his bed like it’ll make this any easier. You’re not sure when this progressed to something angry, but you can’t help yourself.

Touya stands. He grabs a pair of sweatpants and you look away as he changes, like you haven’t seen every part of him, physical and not.

“And what has made you come to this sudden realisation? Everything has been fine.” He snaps.

“For you. Touya, you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

Touya scoffs. “The fuck did I do?”

You laugh then, but it’s void of any mirth. You push your hair back with one hand, overstimulated and so angry.

“You tell me it’s casual. That we are casual, and then you do all this shit! I mean- your mother invited me to your holiday house, for fucks sake! And your siblings. I mean, Fuyumi calls me all the time and I don’t mind, I love her. All of your siblings, but. You can’t act like it doesn’t mean anything! That we’re that close!”

Touya shakes his head. He’s lost all looks of confusion and you might say he looks bored. It only fuels your anger even more.

“And- the way you kiss me. The way you hold me after we fuck, I-“

“It doesn’t mean anything.” He snaps.

“Don’t do that! Don’t lie to my face!” You yell.

“I’m not lying! I told you. I told you from the start that this meant nothing. It’s not my problem you’re acting crazy.” He shakes his head.

You think you might cry. You feel the prickle of tears line the inside of your eyes and you blink furiously. You’re not sure if it’s anger or sadness but either way you won’t give him the privilege of seeing it.

“No. You don’t get to act all cool about this. You were eating me out in the passenger seat of your shitty car, and I’m the crazy one?”

You pace around the room. You can’t even look at him. At the look on his face. You think you might hit him if you do.

“Look, I tried. Okay? I tried to be the chill girl, and I tried to give you your space, but I can’t! I’m not the chill girl, I’m so pent up about this. You know how badly all my friends cuss me out because of you? Because of the way you treat me?”

He walks towards you then. He’s standing in front of you and you’re forced to look up at his looming height. You can smell the same shower gel on him that’s on you, and you step back, ignoring the tightening of your chest.

“You don’t get to fucking act like I’m the problem here. You’ve had every opportunity to leave, don’t act like I’m the only one responsible.” He spits, finger pointing at your face. You shove his hand out of your way.

“Oh yeah? And when Kai asked me out, how did you react? Because last I checked he stood me up on my date because somebody had told him I was taken. You had nothing to do with that?”

Touya stutters then, and you think you’ve finally got him. Had finally found the thing that’ll make him realise he likes you too. That you could be together. For real.

“Yeah, I told him to back off. I don’t shit where I eat.”

You freeze then. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Touya pauses for a second. Something crosses over his face, and then he settles. Like he’s decided on something. The hard set of his shoulders and the way his eyes bore into yours.

“Kai is a friend. You are somebody I fuck. I don’t need the two of you mixing.”

The tears in your eyes blur your vision. You know he’s trying to hurt you. You know he’s doing this to push you away because he’s too scared to commit. But god, it’s working. Confirms every little thing that eats at you every time Touya turns you away, all the things your friends had warned you about.

“You’re bitter about that. That’s fine. I don’t really care. I warned you. I told you what to expect from me, and like an idiot, you wanted more. I told you this was all casual and you didn’t listen. That’s not my problem. And if you want to end things that’s fine.”

Part of you thought he might fight. Might try to fight for you if you tried to end it. You’d stayed up night after night, fooling yourself that Touya cared. Even if he couldn’t show it. Past it all you thought you meant something to him. People were dramatic. Your friends were dramatic. He showed that he liked you back in his own way. But you look at him now, the look in his eyes, and you don’t think he could care any less about you.

“You fucked me in the bathroom while your family ate dinner downstairs and you wonder why I’m bitter about this?” You inch closer, jabbing your finger in his chest.

“You showed me everything, everything about yourself and you just expect me to think it’s casual? Are you fucking serious, Touya?”

You shake your head and the tears do fall. You wipe aggressively at your cheeks and you watch his cold demeanour falter as he watches them drip down your face. Touya’s hand twitches like he’s going to reach forward but he decides against it. Just steps back and looks away instead.

“God, they were right. I hate that I let this drag on so long. And you- you don’t even care.” You sniff, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

Touya says nothing. He sits back down on his bed. Reaches into the table next to his bed and grabs his cigarettes. You face scrunched up, the way you know it does when you’re about to really cry, and you turn away.

“Go to hell, Todoroki.”

You know that stings. You hope it does, as you grab the rest of your stuff. He doesn’t call out as you walk out his room. Doesn’t try to stop you as you slam his front door shut.

You’re finally reminded of the prickly heat as you’re walking down the sidewalk. Only this time, there’s no fan to cool down the sweat on your skin, washing away the last scent of Touya you think you’ll ever come across.

—————————————————————————-

hope you enjoyed! if you’d like a part two where I force Touya to admit that he actually is in love with y/n plz let me know 🩷

#oneshot #angst #touya todoroki #touya x reader #bnha touya #touya todoroki x reader #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi/reader #b3ach-bunn7

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strwbwrrybunny · 4 months ago

Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈- in the midst of july, your partner proposes a road trip, which initially goes smoothly until you both find yourselves lost. as tensions rise along with sexual desires, the situation becomes more…sticky

𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈╰┈➤ connie x black y/n

𝒸𝓌ׂ╰┈➤ wordy plot,car sex,oral sex,praise, choking,fingering, dirtytalk,unprotected sex, fingering,18+

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ׂ╰┈➤ 4k

“admit it, connie—we are totally lost!” you muttered in exasperation, slapping the big map onto the dashboard, your eyebrows drawn tightly.

your phone lost service hours ago as your determined boyfriend drove deeper into the desert terrain. you observed the map without understanding a single thing. a painful throb pulsed through your head, either from the pounding stress of being lost or the relentless california heat.

the sun's heat kissed your glistening brown skin, and you were glad you’d applied ‘black girl sunscreen’ on both yourself and your boyfriend before you set off.you knew that when connie had suggested a road trip, some bullshit was bound to happen.

the first problem was the choice of transport,connie’s car.a white 1992 chevrolet camaro rs ,notorious for breaking down more than running.the second issue was that the heating and air conditioning didn't function properly, and california's heat was relentless.

the final issue involved the mysterious sputtering and jerking it did at times. you’d have to get into the driver seat to steer while connie pushed from behind. it was practically a death trap. you suggested driving your car, but connie refused.

you wanted to challenge him,but when you looked into those puppy-dog hazel eyes, you couldn’t say no.

having been childhood sweethearts with connie since preschool, you'd think you would be used to it.yet, after all these years it still tugged at your heartstrings.you vividly remembered that fateful day you fell off the swing.loud wails of despair upon seeing scraped skin and a rip in your new pink dress. a tap on your shoulder caused you to seize your sniffles and turn around, eyes settling on a boy with short hair.

he had grabbed your hand and helped you up, presenting a flower from behind his back with a 'tada!'. it seemed ridiculous now, but back then it left young you absolutely smitten with the boy.

from that moment on, you two were practically joined at the hip. you guys went through all of middle, elementary, and high school together. freshman year, connie had finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend. you two landed your first apartment together right after high school, and you couldn't be more happier sharing your own space with your partner.

your gaze landed on the picture of connie and you,photo tucked into his speedometer.

that night felt like yesterday—you remembered the thunder and how scared you were. you called connie and told him that your parents weren't home and you were scared, he immediately reassured you. his sweet voice assuring he’d be there in ten minutes. that night had consisted of snacks, face masks, and making love.

you thought it was adorable that he'd printed off the picture you guys had taken that night, even turning it into a charming little polaroid.

“we’re not lost.” connie insisted, bringing you back to reality.

“right, any moment now we'll have to face inbred mutant freaks.all thanks to your dreadful navigational skills,“ you pulled down the sun visor and inspected your appearance. your makeup was creasing around the corners of your mouth,you frowned.if you had known it would be this hot, you would've opted out on a full face.

thank god for sweat-proof lace glue.

connie gave you a side-eye as you used the beauty blender to smooth out the creases. snapping the sun visor back, you glared at him with raised eyebrows and folded arms.

“you’re so fake,when were you gonna tell me i looked like a greasy pizza?” you questioned.

“i don't understand what you're getting at.you look beautiful as always,” connie reassured his girlfriend. he genuinely meant it; you were beautiful to him. your dark hair pulled into a ponytail, sides pulled out to frame your heart-shaped face. you attempted to intimidate him with a look, but your big doe eyes and pouty lips made you appear more like an annoyed puppy.

you wore an orange sundress that hugged your curves and accentuated your figure. you had chose not to wear a bra and connie could see the outline of your nipples. those large hoops he loved to play with dangeled in your ears.your lips shone with a clear gloss, lined with a brown pencil accompanied by butterscotch and cinnamon roll butter gloss.

connie squinted at you.

“actually, you do look a bit ugly”

you rolled your eyes at him and turned toward your window, letting the wind refresh you with its breeze.

“come on, lighten up! i'm kidding“ connie grinned and playfully poked your side.

“just trying to lighten the mood baby.” he said as he continued to poke you.each time you slapped his fingers away he would purposefully swerve the car. you sighed, believing the car might blow its head-gasket from the stress, and reluctantly shifted your focus to the man who’d been bothering you.

hunger gnawed at your stomach and caused it to growl.if only connie hadn't gotten you two lost.a juicy burger would already be in front of you,your mouth drooled at the thought.

“yeah me too.” connie mumbled at your stomach.

with his gaze remaining on the road, connie placed his warm hand on your thigh, causing your stomach to somersault. you didn't realize your fascination with hands until you started dating connie in high school.

you ruled it out as a fetish because you only liked his hands. they were large and veiny, with neatly trimmed nails finished in clear polish. connie cared a lot about his appearance, which you found endearing and sexy.

and just like that, your cunt was watering and you were horny. fearing you'd soak through your dress due to the lack of underwear, you squeezed your thighs together tightly. connie noticed you fidgeting and glanced over, his face flooded with concern.

you see connie and you had placed a bet during an argument two weeks ago. the two of you agreed not to have sex for a month, and whoever gave in first had to do the dishes for three months.

he had called you a spoiled bratty nympho freak that couldn’t keep your legs shut. just because you liked a little sex here and there didn’t mean you were a nympho. you would prove him wrong.

connie sure hadn’t made it easy for you to keep your hands to yourself, strutting around the apartment shirtless with that beautiful toned body. his sweats always hanging teasingly low, just enough to reveal trimmed pubes and a sculpted v-line.he’d oh so conveniently have to squeeze past you occasionally and you’d feel his dick in your back.

you’d be making breakfast and he’d wrap those inked arms around you. soft kisses peppered along your neck as he held you close to him.

it was driving you nuts not being able to touch him.

“you okay babe?” connie’s voice intruded your thoughts.

“im fine, just hungry“

you weren’t lying, you were hungry for meat. just a different kind of meat.

“let me pull over and we’ll look at the map together.there has to be a diner somewhere around here.” connie frowned. he felt bad that you were hungry because it was partially his fault. he blamed the other half on the poorly written map.

you had offered to pack a couple of sandwiches and other various snacks for the road, but connie insisted it wasn’t necessary. he’d planned for you guys to stop at an array of diners.he thought it’d be fun going to different places to eat, but he didn’t expect he’d get so turned around. they’d been driving for eight hours, two of those hours bickering about their location.

connie seemed to loom over you at six four as he spread the map across the hood of the car, muscles flexing as he doodled on it with a pen. you gulped, looking at him.you were standing behind him so you were free to gawk in secret.

his eyebrows were pushed together in concentration, jaw clenched as he rested his body against the car hood. he wore a black compression shirt, and you could see every fucking muscle he had under there. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was teasing you with the black sweatpants he had on.

he knew they were your favorite.

each time the wind would blow, you’d get a hint of his smell, husky with a hint of spice.

it was fucking intoxicating.

you wished he would fuck you right here on the hood of his car. you didn’t care if people would see you getting your poor pussy pounded by him. you just needed him.

connie snapped in your face.

“y/n,are you even listening?”

“of course” you lied, acting like you weren’t daydreaming about connie pulling your dress up.he rolled his eyes at you, annoyed that he’d have to repeat himself.

“i said i know where we are, there’s a diner forty minutes from here” connie repeated, rolling the map up and tucking it underneath his arm.

“good, let’s get back on the highway” you muttered in embarrassment at having been caught staring like a creep.

you two were back on the highway, his hand placed on your thigh. the car had been moving for what seemed like ages, and you couldn’t take it anymore.you were bursting at the seams in sexual frustration.connie was right, you were a fucking sex addict and you needed him.

you unlatched your seatbelt and leaned over the armrest, a gasp leaving connie’s lips as you opened the fly of his sweatpants and pulled him out. bastard knew what he was doing, he didn’t even have underwear on.

“i knew you’d crack you fucking nympho, now suck daddy's dick. show me how much you missed it” he rasped, one hand burying into your hair and the other grasping the wheel. your mouth watered at his pink glistening tip, and it was clear he had been struggling to refrain himself as well.

you just had had happened to crack first.

you licked your lips,holding the base of his dick and swirling your tongue around the tip.

“a-ah shit,missed this mouth s’much.” he groaned out, clutching the steering wheel. he wasn’t sure if it was safe to be doing this while driving, but he didn’t care.

the way you were swallowing and choking on his cock had him mewling out in pleasure. his tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, and you nearly threw up but held it down. if having the back of your throat bruised meant you were going to get your pussy stretched out, you didn’t care. your face was a saliva covered mess as you slurped and sucked.

“mm’ you’re sucking my dick so fucking good,like the little slut you are” connie cooed rubbing your back reassuringly. tears prickled your eyes as connie violated your throat,a wet slurp sound each time your mouth lowered onto him. you decided to give your poor throat a break and grabbed his dick with both hands, stroking and twisting at the same time.

his eyes snapped closed in bliss as he forgot he was driving, his head resting back against the headrest. connie suddenly jerked forward as the car began sliding off the road, you continued stroking him, and he whined as his tip dripped pre-cum. you knew it was risky doing this, knowing there was a chance connie could lose control of the wheel. but you didn’t care you were going to suck him dry. it was his job to watch the road, not yours.

“s-shit i almost crashed and you’re sucking my cock like a whore.” connie groaned in bliss. he was nearing his end with each tug of your soft hands on his dick,he found it harder and harder to control the car. he wanted nothing more than to buck his hips into your mouth and use you as his personal pocket pussy.

he veered to the side of the empty road and shut off the car. instantly he grabbed your head with both hands, all you could do was open your mouth wide as he used you for his pleasure. cries of bliss left his lips as you choked repeatedly, disgusting wet noises filling the car.

with one last buck of his hips, his salty sperm was spurting down your throat.”ugh” connie gasped out as you sucked him through his high, licking every drop of cum from his dick until it was clean.

he almost snapped the seatbelt trying to get it off,ordering you out of the car to which you happily obliged. he tugged his shirt off, and you almost fell to your knees.carved abs heaving as he recovered from his recent nut,tan skin glistening beautifully in the sun.

he placed the shirt on the hood of the automobile so it wouldn’t burn you, you heard his sweatpants fall to the ground, and you knew he was about to rock your world.

it had been two whole weeks since you felt him inside of you.

and you yearned for him.

a smile crept onto your face as he hiked your dress up, hands flat on the hood of the car.a small whimper leaving your lips as he forced your cheek against the hood.he pinned your arms behind your back leaving you to his mercy.

“this is what you wanted, right?” he husked, a loud crack of his palm against your ass. you bit your lip as you almost screamed. “you wanted me to hike your dress up and fuck you.you don’t think i saw that look in your eye? so slutty,” he hissed, hand cracking off your ass again.

you cried out.

you could do nothing as connie spanked you, your ass was red and sore. yet, you craved for him to continue. you wanted to be punished for giving into your needs.a whimper left your lips as you felt his tip glide across your twitching clit, he groaned in pleasure as he glided himself between your wet cunt.he wasn’t even in you yet and you were leaking.

“look at you, so fucking needy” he said breathy.

he was right, you were needy. and you needed him.

“connie!” you screamed as he pushed his thick length into you, stretching your walls.he wasted no time fucking your pussy, pulling all of his dick out except the tip,just to slam back inside of you. mewls of pleasure fumbled from your lips, connie using your pinned hands to leverage his thrust.

you were too blinded by the rough pounding to care if people saw you with your ass tooted in the air as you got fucked. fucked,like the nympho you were.connie felt so good, a soft thudding filling the air as he rocked his hips into you.

his hand ran over the ‘connie♡︎’ tattoo on your ass, and he smirked, my crazy ass girlfriend he thought. maybe you were delusional, but you admired your man, and you loved tattoos, so it was only right you get his name tatted.

“b-baby!” you sobbed as he angles his hips, pushing deeper inside of you. connie’s thrusts were unrelenting and painfully pleasurable . his sexy grunts drove you crazy, and you begged him to release your hands so you can rub your throbbing clit.

“please, p-please let me touch myself!” you plead, tears streaming down your face. he delivered a few more hard thrust then freed your hands. you braced one hand on the car hood, other circling your tingling bud in time with his thrusts.

"mm, fuck me harder!" you gasp. he grips your ponytail with one hand, other on your back for support as he plunges into you. your eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy as a wave of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

connie’s head lulls back as he fucks you aganist his car,you feel so good around his dick.you’re wet and tight and it’s got his toes curling.he couldn't believe his sex addict girlfriend had him out in the open,fucking her.

"y-y/n.” connie groans as you work your hips on him. he grasps your ass with enough force to leave a mark. a rush of pleasure mixed with pain floods over you.

you nearly shout as he matched your rhythm, your butt bouncing off his toned stomach with a slap slap slap.

"fuck! right there” you cry out in bliss, teeth digging into your lips as his tip prods into your g-spot. you’re helpless beneath him, he takes full advantage of the situation, using all his pent-up sexual frustration onto you.

his balls slap against your ass as he pounds his hips into you.you looked so breedable to him,mouth agape, eyes shut in bliss.he imagined how sexy you'd look pregnant,stomach swollen with his seed.

you were wrapped around his twitching cock so tightly it made him shiver.

"connniee." you drew out,elongating his name. his intense movements made your head spin.

a rush of curses spilled from your mouth when the knot in your stomach gave way.

“let it all out love. cum on this dick” connie urged, still thrusting.he remained deep inside you but moved slower.you trembled at his steady rhythm,crying out as he fucked you through your orgasm.

his thumb clumsily found your clitoris and your back arched as he massaged the bud in circular motions. you were so sensitive but lacked the energy to protest as he had his way with you.

his erratic thrusts indicated he was on the brink of his own orgasm. his legs trembled underneath him before he abruptly pulled out, releasing spurts of cum onto the hot gravel with a deep groan as he stood stroking himself.

"fuckkk.” he drawled out.

in sheer exhaustion, you pulled your dress down still laying face first on the car.your eyes peered over at connie.his sweat-slicked body looked divine, dick still standing high and proud, wanting more.

“i’ll take that in my mouth next time” you purred,finally finding the strength to stand.”i wouldn’t doubt,freak” connie stated cupping your cheeks, making your lips pucker.

his normally hazel eyes seemed darker, filled with desire. you could sense he wasn't finished with you by the way he looked at you like a piece of delectable meat. he practically dragged you to the car,shifting the seat back as he sat down. you quickly straddled him, eagerly pulling up your dress once again.

with trembling hands you held the base of his twitching cock. his body tensed and he moaned softly, his low eyes watching you position him at your wet entrance. you rubbed his sticky tip against your wet folds making his already weak legs shudder.

he knew you were teasing him, which only made him more aroused. precum dripped from his tip as your wet folds continually slid across him. his head rolled back against the headrest when you finally sank onto him, hands gripping the leather seat in bliss as he stretched you once again.

"y/n." his deep, husky voice resonated like music in your ears.his hands sliding down the curve of your back as you adjusted to his size. he could tell it was slightly painful for you and as much he wanted to buck his hips up deeper into that pretty little pussy, he refrained ,not wanting to hurt you.

"doing so well, princess” his praise filled your tummy with butterflies. you rested your hands on his shoulders for balance and started sliding up and down.a surge of confidence filling you as his whines reached your ears. his stomach clenched as you wrapped perfectly around him,tight, wet walls clinging to him intimately.

he felt intoxicated by your touch, absolutely enamored with the way you fucked him. no other woman had ever made him feel this way. you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you knew it.

passionately, you rode connie at a consistent speed, your wet pussy squelching each descent of your hips. he looked irresistibly sexy with his mouth slightly open in pleasure, a hint of drool escaping from his lips.

who's the sex addict now? you thought.

“ooo baby, your pussy feels so good!” connie cried out, his face scrunching as you grind onto him sloppily. you leant down and kissed his lips, his hand latching around back of your neck. as your tongue danced against his.

"o-oh f-ucking me so good.” you breathed shakily into his mouth while he bucked his hips beneath you, the vehicle rocking wildly as you two went at it.

connie’s mouth devoured yours sloppily, leaving your lips swollen.you groaned softly when the all-too-familiar tension built up in your stomach.

"your greedy little pussy is eating me up” connie sputtered.

you were creaming on his dick now, you were so fucking horny and he was so hot.your head fell back in pleasure, one hand playing with your nipples while the other held his shoulder.you were so wet that occasionally he’d slip out and his dick would rub against your clit. a shaken moan leaving your lips each time it happened.

“wet ass pussy,so messy for me.i can’t wait till’ i clean you up” he murmured in that deep sexy voice.with one more thrust of his hips you came.a cry emitting from your lips as you welcomed your sweet release.

the sight of you cumming on his dick pushed him over the edge ,his hands cupping your thighs lifting you off of him.his dick twitched as cum spurted onto his chest.

a drawn out shit falling from his glistening lips.

a giggle left your lips, “it’s so much!”

you leaned over to grab napkins from the glove compartment,cleaning him. connie chuckled, “it’s your fault.that tight ass pussy does something to me” he breathlessly huffed out.

you felt your cheeks warm up.

“get in the back—i wanna clean you up”. connie gently demanded tapping your thigh. you slid into the backseat as he made adjustments for extra space.by this point, most of your makeup had melted away, and you were grateful for having packed makeup wipes in your bag.

you snapped out of your thoughts as connie parted your legs, gently cradling each thigh with his hands as you lay on your back. half of his large frame jutted out of the car, and he knelt on his pants so the rough gravel wouldn’t scrape his knees.

your pussy watered as he began placing kisses on your thighs,starting from your gold ankle bracelet with a ‘c’ charm on it, to right above your pussy.

you stiffled a moan as his middle and index finger pushed into you,thumb fiddling your clit.

"i-it’s sensitive!” you cried out, hands cupping your titties as your legs shook prematurely. you felt his fingers pull out,his mouth now on your wet cunt, lapping you up.

your head felt heavy and you couldn’t stop it as it fell to the side.your back arching as a guttural moan escaped from your lips, his tongue flicking over your pussy folds now.

“you taste so fucking good” he spoke, pausing after each word to take a slow lick with his long tongue. you whimpered and squeezed your eyes closed as you felt him pull your lips apart, revealing your pretty pink throbbing clit.

his eyes glistened,looking like he'd just hit the jackpot. without a second thought connie latched onto the sensitive bud. all you could do was whine and squeeze at his shoulders,his strong arms holding your squirming body in place.

"c-connie! you choked out," you're eating my pussy so good”

he moaned into your pussy, fingers back pumping in you with a nasty squelching sound. he curled his fingers each time he hit the base of your walls. dried up tears streaked your face and your lips trembled with pleasure, pussy pulsating around his fingers as your eyes rolled back in bliss.

you almost snapped your legs closed as you felt him brush against g-spot again, arms pulling you down further onto his face.

“i-i’m close, so fucking close” you gasped as his fingers fucked you. you were embarrassed to be cumming this fast but connie knew how to work your pussy. he knew your body like the back of his hand. his tongue was back on your poor little clit, and you realized he was spelling his name.

c o n n i e

as soon as he spelled out the last letter, the knot in your stomach snapped once again.your body convulsed with pleasure, legs clamping closed.connie talked you though your high, placing kisses on your ass as he traced the stretch marks on your thighs.

once you had calmed down you opened your eyes to see connie tugging his shirt back on.your tired eyes met his and he smirked.

“good to have you back princess, let’s go eat i’m fucking starving”

“agreed” you huffed.

“also, you’re on dish duty for three whole months”

“whatever, it was worth it” you shrugged.

“nympho freak.”

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🍒

＠ ᴄɪɴɴɴ4ᴍᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ.ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ sᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴏʀ ᴍᴏᴅɪꜰʏ. ᴍᴡᴀʜ, ʙʏᴇ♡︎

#aot oneshots #aot x black reader #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie x reader smut #aot connie #aot smut #aot x reader #aot #attack on titan smut #attack on titan #connie smut #fluff #anime #aot fanfiction #connie x you #black reader

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be4chywritez · 5 months ago

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people’s princess |nico hischier

nico hischier x fem!reader

You’re the embodiment of the people’s princess

my masterlist!

request are open

prompt list!

You held Nico’s hand as you walked towards the parking lot, admiring how even after a tough loss he still stopped to take pictures and sign things for fans. The crowd was buzzing, fans pushing against the barricades trying to get Nico to sign all sorts of things. Nico squeezed your hand three times, “I love you.”

You stood behind him, facing the other barricade where other players were signing autographs. As you scanned the crowd, you noticed a small boy sitting in his mother’s arms, both of them being somewhat pushed against the barrier.

You walked towards them, smiling at the little boy and his mother. “Hi there,” you greeted warmly. “What’s your name?”

The boy looked up at you with wide eyes. “Alex,” he said quietly.

“Hi Alex, I’m Y/N. Is that your jersey?” you asked, pointing to the small Devils jersey he was holding tightly.

Alex nodded, his grip tightening even more. “I want Nico to sign it,” he said in a whisper.

You looked at his mother. “Do you mind if I take him over to Nico?” you asked. His mother nodded. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

You gently scooped Alex from his mother’s arms. He clutched your neck as you walked towards Nico, who was handing back a Sharpie to a fan. You called his name, and he gave you a curious smile, walking towards you and Alex.

“This is Alex,” you introduced the boy. “He’d really like you to sign his jersey.”

Nico’s face lit up with a kind smile. “Of course,” he said, slumping down to Alex’s level. “Hi Alex, nice to meet you. Can I see your jersey?”

Alex shyly handed over his jersey, his eyes wide with awe. Nico signed it with a flourish, adding a little smiley face for good measure. “Here you go, buddy,” he said, handing it back.

You looked at Nico, who was already looking at you, his eyes twinkling. He waved at Alex one last time before going back to signing things for fans.

As you carried Alex back towards his parents, he looked at you with shining eyes. “Are you Nico’s girlfriend?” he asked, messing with the hair around the nape of your neck.

You smiled and nodded. “I am. Do you like watching him play?”

Alex nodded excitedly. “Yeah! He’s my favorite!”

“Mine too,” you said with a smile. “Do you play hockey, Alex?”

“Not yet, but I want to,” he replied, clutching his jersey.

“You should definitely go for it,” you encouraged. Alex beamed at that thought. “Really?”

“Really,” you assured him. “Just make sure you’re having fun.” He smiled at you as you handed him back to his mom, waving goodbye.

Some fans waved you over to get their things signed, which you happily agreed to. Nico watched you as he signed things from across the street, looking at you with so much love. He loved that you cared for fans even though sometimes they could be overwhelming.

You ran over to him, looking slightly flushed. “Hey, baby, can you sign these?” you asked, holding the cap for Nico as he signed it, then a player card, and then a T-shirt.

Nico smiled slightly. “They’ve got you running all around the place,” he joked.

You giggled before running back toward the crowd that waited eagerly. You handed each fan their individual items, a few recording you. You didn’t mind, thinking they were trying to get a shot of Nico from across the barricade.

Nico called you over, taking your hand as you both finally walked toward the car. He opened the door for you before going to his side, starting it, and taking your hand from the center console. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it.

As you drove home, Nico glanced over at you. “You were amazing tonight,” he said softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand.

You smiled, feeling your heart swell. “I just wanted to make sure everyone had a good time, even if we didn’t win.”

Nico’s eyes softened. “That’s why I love you. You always put others first.”

You squeezed his hand. “And I love you for always being there for me.”

When you arrived home, Nico opened your car door and helped you out. As you walked inside, he pulled you into a warm embrace. “Let’s relax,” he whispered, leading you to the couch.

You both settled in, snuggling close. “I can’t wait to have a family with you someday,” Nico murmured, kissing your temple.

You looked up at him, feeling a wave of heat go through your body. “Me too, Nico. Me too.”

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #nhl x reader #nhl hockey #nhl players #nhl x you #nhl imagine #be4chywrites

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a-spes · 5 months ago

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| DEVIOUS LIES — Part one (3.842 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

“I am really not sure we should do that, Stark”, you repeated for what may be the tenth time since you picked up the phone, “it sounds like a really, really, bad idea, and you know, I am not sure sh~”

“Come on!” he said, cutting short your ramblings.

Your thoughts are racing, your mind imagining all the things that could go wrong. It is an endless series of “what ifs” that is only stopped by Tony’s voice. You both knew that if he lets you think too much, he would lose his battle. It’s a risky plan he wants to drag you in.

“I am sure you are dying to say yes,” he added when you didn’t answer him, and you could hear his petty smile through the phone. As he sensed that you were about to accept, the man tried to convince you with one last argument, “she won’t know anything, I promise. None of them will, I thought about everything,” he assured you, and you believed him.

He was right, you wanted to say yes, but you couldn’t get yourself to say the word aloud. There are too many ways for it to end badly, and you really don’t need to make your situation worse than it already is. Two years ago, you lost everything. None of your teammates tried to understand your situation, they didn’t give you a chance to explain what happened. Instead, they threw you away from the team, and the tower, without giving it a second thought, as if you were just garbage.

Maybe that’s what you are.

Sometimes, when you think about the events, you surprise yourself by siding with them. It’s easier to think that you deserve what they are doing to you than to accept the injustice of the situation, which you can’t do anything about. After all, the proof was against you. You’ve seen the pictures, everyone has seen them, and they felt so real that your certainties have faltered. How to convince them that you are innocent when you are not even sure yourself? Eventually, you gave in, it is a battle you couldn’t win.

“When is it, already?” you sighed, eventually giving in. An argument against Tony Stark was another battle you knew you couldn’t win.

The man has been the only exception. He has watched over you from afar, and believed your version of the events. For once, he has listened, and it means the world to you. So even if you try to not wince at the enthusiasm he lets out on the other end of the phone, a part of you is happy. It doesn’t matter if things don't go well, at least that would have pleased the billionaire, and you owe it to him, even if you couldn’t match his enthusiasm, too anxious for that.

For a second, you thought about changing your mind. Your fingers were a centimeter away from the interphone, but you haven’t rung the bell yet. It would be so easy to listen to your instinct that is screaming at you to run away. It would be so easy to break the promise you’ve made to Tony, he wouldn’t mind right? Yes, despite the disappointment, he would understand that you couldn’t do that. It was too early and too much. You shouldn’t even have taken that call, it is always a bad idea to trust a billionaire, especially when his last name is Stark.

The last time you’ve set foot in the Avengers Tower, it has been two years ago. You haven’t seen them since, only their pictures in the news. One time, you’ve thought about going to one of those press conferences they hold sometimes, but you knew you wouldn’t be welcome — Maybe they even added your name to the list of bans. You aren’t welcome anywhere near them, they made it clear when they threw you away.

It is as if all the years spent by their side have been erased. Even the world seems to have forgotten your name. It is almost as if you have never been a part of the Avengers, as if you’ve never existed, and it was just something you mind made.

Maybe it’s for the best, you thought.

Yet, here you are. In front of the building you left years ago, promising to yourself that you’ll never come back in here. That day, you felt so humiliated that you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t add the shame to crawl back at their feet, begging for their forgiveness. No, no matter how bad you were craving to throw yourself in their arms, you won’t. Never, ever. Except that, sometimes, circumstances change, and you find yourself unable to refuse your friend’s crazy invitation, despite the dangerousness of his plan.

“Pl- please, ‘tasha, let me ex~,” you were begging the woman. It wasn’t your kind but exceptional situations call for exceptional reactions, and the one you found yourself in certainly was.

Tears aren’t your style either, nor it’s Natasha’s. Yet, both of your cheeks are stained with them, your eyes reddened. She is angry, and you are frustrated. She is full of hatred, and you are full of despair. But, today, something broke in both your hearts.

“Shut up,” she said firmly, not giving you a chance to explain yourself. She didn’t want to hear a word from your bullshit. None of them want to. “You’ve lost the right to call me that way,” she added, spitting every one of those hate-filled words in your face, “honestly, you’ve even lost the right to talk to me. I don’t want to hear your voice or to see your face ever again. Did I make myself clear?” she yelled. You would have never thought that she could speak to you in such an angry, hateful tone, and yet, here you are.

She has, indeed, made her intentions clear. When you came home, you found your clothes scattered on the pavement in front of the tower. She hasn’t waited for your explanations before deciding to throw all your belongings away. You were quick to follow them, you barely stepped into the building that she was here to drag you out of the building.

You have never seen your loved one in such a state. She isn’t even acknowledging your pleas for her to slow down, or at least to loosen her grip on your arm. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care anymore if you were hurt, or if you were stumbling on your feet — If she had to drag you out by the hair, she would do it without hesitating.

The Natasha that was scared she could hurt you was long gone. She wasn’t the one that swore to protect you anymore, you’ve seen in her gaze that the promises she made no longer stand. She has a stern, harsh expression painted on her face, and it was your fault. She hadn’t hit you, not yet, but you could still feel how her nails are digging into your skin, leaving a mark that will stay for days. It is a reminder of what you’ve lost that day, not that you could forget.

A second later, you collide with concrete. She throws you on the ground, alongside your belongings, with all the strength she has — And she is a former russian spy, so she’s got plenty. The force of the gesture causes you to stumble over your own feet and fall, scraping your hands and knees in the process. You don’t even try to get up. Dejected, you remain on the ground, barely daring to turn around to see her one last time.

“Don’t you dare to come back, you are not welcome here anymore,” she said before walking away, and disappearing behind the doors of the tower. You wanted to say something but the words didn’t come out, nothing you could say felt right.

It is the last time you’ve seen her, and as pitiful as it is, you have long cherished this last contact with the redhead. No matter how violent and hateful it has been, it was still the last time you’ve touched the love of your life, and you missed it the moment she let go of your arm. Her, and her touch. Despite everything, despite the years, you still needed her presence by your side, and it doesn’t matter if your relationship has to be brutal, you are ready to accept anything if it means being close to her for a few more days.

The rest of the team stayed here until you left. Your eyes met theirs, pleading them to at least say something, but you didn’t get the help you were looking for, their hatred toward you matching Natasha’s. Clint, Steve and Sam, they are all people that you thought were your friends, except they didn’t hesitate a second before siding with the redhead.

Steve has been the first one to leave, almost running after the woman. Before they disappear in the elevator, you’ve caught his hand resting on her shoulder. You should be the one to touch her like that, the one to hold and comfort her, but this right has been taken from you, and maybe you deserve it. You broke the trust she put in you, one that she doesn’t grant easily.

You’ve always known it was a bad idea. In fact, since the moment he suggested that you should come to Natasha’s birthday, you’ve had a bad feeling about it. He thought that it would help you, knowing that you had been living in isolation since you’ve left the team, and a part of you believed him. The same part that never stopped hoping that things could go back to the way they were.

Until today.

If there is something you’ve learned from that experience, it’s that things will never be as they were because it’s nothing more than a pipe dream. The past two years, you have continuously dreamed about that moment, when you would eventually see her again. You’ve even made up a whole apology speech, one that would erase all your mistakes, and if it’s not enough, then maybe you would have begged them until they forgive you — Promises be damned. In any case, it would have ended with a hug with Natasha, a happy reunion after all those years spent apart.

Except that none of that happened, because reality isn’t fiction, and you don’t deserve a happy ending. To be fair, you could have never imagined that the reunion would go like this, that you wouldn’t even be able to exchange a word with them because they had no idea that you were here. You couldn’t have imagined that the barriers you have built over the last few years would crumble the moment you set foot in the tower that once was your home.

The tears were streaming down your face, hidden behind that ridiculous mascot costume Tony had forced you to wear. He assured you that it was all part of his plan, the one that’s supposed to make everything better, but honestly, you’ve never felt so ridiculous and pitiful than when you put on that costume that’s supposed to look like a cartoon version of Natasha. That is the genius idea Tony’s came up with a few weeks ago ; having you wear a suit so that you could attend Natasha’s birthday party without anyone knowing.

You thought that you were strong enough to face them, but it turned out that you weren’t. There is nothing that hurts more than realizing you are nothing more than a stranger in your own house. An intruder, that’s exactly what you are. You should enjoy the moment, but you can’t, your heart races, fearing they could guess you’re the one behind the costume.

You were watching them from the corner of the terrace where you found refuge after giving them a little show, and you noticed that all of them, without exception, had a bright smile on their faces. You should be glad that they overcame the difficulties of life, right?

Then why is the only thing you are feeling agonizing jealousy?

Because you were slowly realizing that things changed after you left them, and maybe it was for the best. That’s what you’ve heard them saying in an interview they held a few months after your departure — “Yes, the team has undergone some changements, and we believe it’s for the best” — and maybe they were right, because you don’t remember seeing them being so peaceful in the past. They never clearly said that you’ve been banned from the team, nor they talked publicly about the events that lead to your departure, but people weren’t stupid, they guessed that it was because of something you did.

All days are the same since.

You wake up early, but it’s not the sign of a healthy life, only of a light sleep that is disturbed by the slightest noise and glint of sunlight. The thought of a new day only makes you sigh, what’s the point when every day is the same? They are all filled with loneliness and misery, and you are not sure you have the strength to deal with that, so you don’t move an inch, waiting for the night to come again.

Sometimes, you get out of the bed you’ve been rotting in, but it’s not before you are so hungry that your whole body is uncontrollably shaking. That's the only time you leave the darkness of your flat, when you go to that small shop at the end of the street to get something to eat. You would buy anything and everything here, but especially junk food that can be eaten quickly. Most of the time, it’s PastaBox or anything with chocolate, the papers piling up in the kitchen as the days go by, but you’ve never had the heart to take down the overflowing bin.

Waking up, rotting in bed, eating a bit if you are really hungry, going back to rot in your bed, then crying until Morpheus comes to get you, that’s now what your days are.

It’s a strange situation. You have mourned people before, but never someone who’s still alive, never your whole life, never yourself. You are still alive. You know it because you are still breathing and your heart is beating, but it feels like you are not anymore. You don’t even want to cry anymore, you are just laying here, waiting for something to happen, anything. Maybe death. Maybe it’ll eventually come for you, and that moment will be the sweetest. It would be a relief, and not only for yourself.

You don’t want to think about the fact that it may not be. What would be the point in suffering if it’s not to get a threat at the end? The possibility that nothing will come after that life feels unfair, and scary. When you are not finding comfort in your death, you are looking for it by imagining a universe where your life with Natasha wouldn’t have ended that way, where none of that happened.

These are the thoughts that lull you to sleep every night, but the next day, when you wake up, the ache in your heart is back. It never seems to fade away, the pain being as strong as it was on the first day. If anything, it got worse. You are aware that every day that passes takes you further away from those ideals, dashing your hopes of getting your old life back. Your despair grew as you realized that all you were doing was pulling away from the love of your life, and there was nothing you could do to get her back.

What is going to happen when you’re going to forget about how it feels being close to her?

What if you forget everything? Her voice, smile, and the smell of her clothes?

The few times you are getting out of your apartment, you are walking with your head down, hiding behind the hood of your sweatshirt, and today isn’t an exception. The weather isn’t that cold, but the collar of your sweatshirt is still up to your chin, leaving only your eyes for the world to see. The ones that are fixed to your feet, avoiding to look around.

You used to do that to avoid paparazzi and insistent fans the days you were too tired to interact with the world, but you are now doing it to avoid problems. Your face and name have been all over the news after, and not for good reasons. People had no idea what had really happened, but their imaginations had no trouble imagining the worst and spreading rumors. It has been years, but the world still hasn't forgiven you for things you’ve never done.

In a few days, the way people see you changed drastically. You went from being one of the country’s greatest heroes to being canceled. The smiles turned into hateful looks, compliments into insults, and although no one has tried to hit you, you prefer to keep a low profile. The fall has been painful, but it isn’t surprising.

How could you expect strangers to believe you when even your oldest friends didn’t?

You have never been their favorite anyway, and you are perfectly aware of that. You are not a former spy, nor are you a genius or an enhanced human. You have nothing special, and the world knows your name only because of your teammates. It’s not a big surprise that they prefer them, and decided to side with the real Avengers.

But maybe they’re right. Maybe things are better that way, because you are not sure you deserve being loved. What you’ve tried to say to ‘tasha is true, you can’t remember what happened that night — At least, not the details that matters —, and that is the worst in your situation. The doubt creeping inside of you, and the guilt mixed with the frustration because you're as likely to be innocent as guilty.

Did you do it?

Did you cheat on her for real?

You are walking as fast as you can, only wanting to get home as quickly as possible, shaking your head in an attempt to get rid of those poisonous thoughts. You didn’t stay long at the party, barely half an hour has elapsed before you decided that you had enough. At least you’ve seen her blowing the candles, even if you left without saying a word to the woman. The thought crossed your mind for a second before you decided it was safer not to break the peace she had built up.

She deserves to be happy, even if it means that you are not a part of her life anymore.

The only trace of your passage that you have left is a black box. You have hesitated to leave it on the pile of gifts, as she would know it was from you, but it didn’t feel right to keep for yourself the gift you were supposed to give her two years ago. It isn’t yours. You wished you could have stayed longer, just to see her reaction when she opens the box, just to see her smile one last time, to make her smile one last time before saying goodbye forever.

That night, you’ve been crying uncontrollably, and so did you the following days until you have no more tears to shed. Gladly, thanks to Fury, you have a bed to spend your days in. The man has been kind enough to pay for your rent until things get back to normal — That’s the promise he has made to you, that he will quickly find a solution.

A new place for you to work at, in another country, far from everything you’ve known, where you weren’t hated by everyone: that’s the solution he came up with. “The furthest you are from the Avengers, the better it is. At least for a few months, we need things to calm down,” he told you that day, and you agreed. Not that you had a choice because if you had, maybe you would’ve said no. But there was no choice but to accept to leave everything you’ve ever known behind you — Your family, your friends, your memories.

Did you for real?

That story is sticking to your skin, and the memories to your mind. Whenever you are going, people are glancing at you, and you are sure it’s because they know. Whenever you are going, all you can see is a glimpse of your past, ghosts that are haunting your present. The world will never forget, nor forgive your mistakes, and you understand them, because you don’t think you can either.

Every morning, when you wake up, it is the first thing you are thinking about. Every night, when you are about to sleep, it is the last one, until it becomes an obsession. Except it didn’t give you your memories back. The opposite has even happened, your mind confusing what you remember with what you've been told, trying to fill the gaps.

At one point, you were so desperate that you almost asked Fury, or Tony, if they didn’t have some technology that could help you to recover your memories. You’ve even thought about asking Wanda, but it was impossible to reach the woman, and maybe it’s for the best. You can’t deny that a part of you is scared of what you might find. You’ve once read that, sometimes, the brain keeps some memories away for a good reason — It is a response to trauma.

But for you, you were sure it was alcohol. You don’t remember how many drinks you had that night, but probably a lot if you can’t remember how the evening ended. The last thing you remember is talking with Astrid, one of your colleagues from SHIELD that invited you for a drink. The next time you remember is when you wake up in that motel. From the moment you opened your eyes, everything happened so fast.

You couldn’t take your eyes out of the pictures which were hung up all over the offices, you even kept some of those. But they are the worst. The thing you can see on those, the two of you in that stupid bed, her kissing your throat, and even more, it feels so foreign. Your brain refuses to accept that you are the one in the pictures. Yet, it's undeniable proof of what you've done that night.

You are so lost that it hurts your brain.

Sometimes, you wish that someone was here. Anyone that would take your hand, and guide you through this story. Most of the time, you imagine that it’s her, Natasha. That she is here, holding you in her arms, whispering in your ears that everything is going to be okay, exactly as she used to do.

Then, you realize that she is not here, and everything crumbles again.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Taglist — @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0

#a spes writing #devious lies #reader insert #natasha romanoff x reader #mcu fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff angst #angst without comfort #mcu women #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #anon request

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hwanchaesong · 6 months ago

Text

Ephemeral (Second Chances)

pairing: Yang Jungwon X F!Reader

synopsis: You sat and listened to the silence, the time ticked and you watched him walk down the aisle full of strangers. What scared you though, was the fact that everyone was blurry except for his dimples that you used to kiss.

word count: 12.1k

genre & warnings:fluff, angst, suggestive (borderline smutty), summer break setting, pet names, cursing, drinking, lots of arguing, bickering, tension and jealousy, themes of engagement and marriage,miscommunication, Yeonjun of TXT as your brother (his gf here is unnamed), other idols' names are used, making-out, slight dry humping, tell me if i missed some

a/n: first up is our jungwon bc why tf not lmao. next up would be probably be ni-ki's. this is a part of Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels. enjoy the ride! all likes, comments & feedback (esp this one, i love love love reading y'all reactions. legit gives me the serotonin boost) and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

The revival of the scorching sun is the mark of your independence from the tiring university life. Yet here you are, head hotter than the temperature outside that the air-conditioning couldn't cool it down.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" you whisper-yelled at your brother with a staggering amount of self-control not to slap him silly for failing to tell you a very important information beforehand.

He held his hands up in defense, guilt written on his face and you almost forgave him when he gave you the puppy eyes.. but no can do.

"I take back what I said, I won't do it anymore." you solidly declared, turning around on your heels to leave the kitchen where you dragged your brother to have a 'private' conversation with him.

"Y/N! I really need you for this one." he held you back, latching onto your arm and if it's not a consequential deal then you'd probably guffaw at how he comically dropped on his knees, begging you for a favor.

"Yeonjun! I- let me go!" you tried pushing him away to no avail, his yowling further annoying you.

"No! Not until you g-"

His fussing were cut off when an eerily familiar voice resonated throughout the room, putting an end to the squabbling that is currently taking place on the shiny, vinyl floors of the kitchen.

"Yeonjun-hyung, is everything okay?" the intruder asked, making your sibling stand and fake a smile, waving his hand nonchalantly and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Jungwon! Hi! Um, yeah, superb haha! Don't you think so, sister?" your fumbling brother turned to you, grinning but you take note of his googly eyes, silently notifying you to play nice and go along with him.

"N-" you yelped when you felt a stinging pinch on your arm, again, doing your best to conceal the unwavering indignation you're feeling. "Yes, don't mind us. You can go back to wherever you came from. We'll be out there shortly."

You felt his eyes on you, but you were adamant to not meet it, focusing on a piece of apple that was sitting on the counter instead.

The younger boy shrugged, muttering a small 'okay' before walking towards the living room again.

You face your brother, and he knows based on the shine in your eyes that you're pleading him to spare you, to look for another person who can help him because you don't want to go through this.. you don't want to go through him.

'High school sweethearts', was the category of your relationship back then.

The president and vice-president of the student council. The academic achiever and the sports champion. Yang Jungwon and L/N Y/N, a match made in heaven.

That's what everyone thought, if they want to talk to you, they just have to look for Jungwon and bam! You'll be right there as well. It was a common notion for you two to be inseparable, a matching set, the missing puzzle pieces that completes the picture.

You both knew that you were too young to be settling down, yet the assurance of being each other's endgame outweighs any lingering doubts.

Then on one fateful day, an incident happened. You dramatically gave it the title of 'Graduation Encounter: The Blessing of the Year.' (your friends were actually baffled on how you're able to name it like that, but they gaslighted themselves into thinking that maybe, this is your coping mechanism for dealing with heartbreak.)

You wanted to give him a gift after the ceremony, then you found him talking to his friend in the student council's room. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, and you're glad you did.

"Jungwon, do you see a future with Y/N?"

"No."

You heard his answer loud and clear to that damned question, and that was adequate for you to be crumpled, like the precious handmade present that you were holding.

That same night, you broke up with him through text. Not brave enough to face him in person but courageous enough to send him a long ass paragraph about what you learned before blocking him for good.

Then you did your best to avoid him like he's the plague. To forget him like that one sock you've probably hid somewhere but really didn't bother to look for until it flew outside your memory. Really, a vision of him brings you nothing but hurt and anger, also a terrible headache because you cannot fathom how he was once your beloved.

You did think that God loves you because Jungwon actually went to a different city to pursue his dream major in college, freeing you from his shadow. He won't be associated with you anymore and he'll be nothing but a mere nightmare that once haunted you in your peaceful slumber.

And now, you feel like the cycle is back to zero since you've had a glimpse of him. Like, all of your efforts to move on from him were nothing but trash, washed down the drain. Seeing him once more had you reeling into the hate shackle that he'd put you in.

"Y/N." Yeonjun called your name in a gentle manner, patting you on the head while he speaks to you sympathetically, "Look, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I regret that, but please, you're the one I trust the most. I can't possibly ask anyone else. Besides, you don't love him anymore, correct?"

... He has a point.

What the fuck are you even grumbling about?

How could you forget the promise that you made to yourself while you burn the letters and photos that he gave you, watching the fire engulf the memories that you previously held dear.

'The next time I see him, no more feelings are attached. He won't affect me anymore. I'll act casual, make him realize that I can live without him."

You concurred, steeling yourself from the upcoming escapade that you're about to embark on.

"You know what Yeonjun," you removed his hand on your head, crossing your arms as you gave him a poised smirk, "get your ass ready 'cause imma bestow you a showstopping wedding proposal."

You're confident, it's been a year since you've hung around Jungwon. Surely, you can keep all of these as strictly professional. You're mature enough, probably him too, it's not like he's gonna go and be a total hazard.

Right?

....

Wrong.

You were severely mistaken because the man is insufferable.

He's cocky and assertive, always has something to counter your suggestions and not to mention, a huge basher.. and you're getting tired of it.

He got your number yesterday when you stupidly agreed with your brother's pleas, thus, you're sitting here in a comfy café with a boy that you've assumed to never cross paths ever again after he messaged you last night for a meet-up and brainstorming session.

You kind of understood why your brother got him to assist with the proposal, given that he is Yeonjun's best friend, automatically making him the best man for the future wedding.

But still, he doesn't have to be so passive-aggressive about this. You're doing your best to be civil with him, so the least that he could do is treat you with respect as well.

"Okay, we're getting nowhere with this." you muttered, taking a deep breath and getting yourself ready to say another proposition when he interrupted your train of thoughts with a rather sarcastic reply.

"I mean, it's you so.." he trailed off, taking a sip of his iced coffee and you are so tempted to choke him at this point.

"Dear god, Jungwon you-"

He cuts you off when he suddenly whipped up the surprised pikachu face, "Finally! You've decided to call me by my name. That's the first step."

You squint your eyes at him, losing your cool at his unreasonable attitude, "What the hell is your problem?"

He feigned shock, clutching his chest as some sort of what you'd like to dub as tasteless acting, "My problem? Oh, miss, it pains me to know that you're blissfully unaware of your rude tone, sassy mannerisms, and not to mention the stink eye you've been giving me ever since you arrived here."

You straightened up from your seat. Were you really acting that way?

Pride must be your greatest friend, letting it fly high that it made you neglect the ethics that you've recited in your head a million times in order to be in a state of zen for this meeting.

"Don't play games with me now." you muttered, glaring at him and it drove you up the wall to see him scowl at you.

You haven't been in contact with him ever since the.. separation, and magic happened it seems, suddenly he appears in front of you out of thin air like a bunny hidden inside a fancy tall hat.

Except that the bunny is a complete 180 of what was supposed to be a sweet and little cutie patootie. You are well aware that change is inevitable. Yang Jungwon won't be the same person as he was before. What's infuriating you though, was the fact that he has the balls to be this brusque.

He sighs in defeat and it makes you even more confused, irritatedly staring at him as you wait for him to spout some more nonsense.

"I owe Yeonjun hyung a big one." he speaks, tone calm and it irks you how he's able to compose himself that fast, "I know we did not end on good terms, but I want to help him as much as I can. He's an important friend to me."

First, you'll give him some credit. He does acknowledge that the whole situation sucks because your past is something that one cannot simply overlook.

Second, Yeonjun is your brother, of course you'd want to lend a hand for him too.

Third, if this guy can go to great lengths for a person that he values then why didn't he-

You blinked, stopping yourself from continuing that thought. There is no fucking way you'll complete that dreadful rumination you're brewing inside your precious brain.

"Then what do you suggest?" you watch him smile in triumph, the first since your rendezvous. And as much as you hate to admit it, you did miss that joyful vibe he'd always emit.

Finally, he laid out the plans that he had painstakingly plotted the moment Yeonjun asked him about the perfect wedding proposal.

You listened intently to Jungwon, mindful of the schedule and divvying up the work, also making a mental note of your own ideas that you might pitch in later on.

Your brother will ask his girlfriend next Wednesday, during her birthday party celebration. That means that you only have a what? A fucking week to get everything done.

"That's it." he finishes his rambling, glancing in your direction and giving you ample time to take in his word vomit.

You are willing to put the bitterness behind you if it means that you'll see your brother happy and satisfied. He deserves that much, after all the love and support he has given you, it is only natural for you to return the benevolence he had showered you with since you were born.

You stood up from your seat, extending your hand to the curious man in front of you, "We'll do that and the things that I will also say at some point." you smile, having half a mind to compliment him for the meticulous planning, "You never lost your touch when it comes to creating blueprints, Mr. President of the Student Council."

He smirks at your unforeseen flattery masked in irony, accepting the handshake and not missing the chance to throw a jab in, "And you're still good at heeding my orders despite your nature of splashing it with your own ideas, Ms. Vice-President of the Student Council."

Your eyes widened, caught-off guard by his witty teasing.

Amidst the quiet coffee shop where the calming classical music surrounds the serene space, an imminent cyclone forms as the two former lovers, turned partners-in-cupid, stand with their hands clasped in harmony, regarding each other in a pique.

Game on.

---------------------------------------------------

Day 1: Choosing a venue

You scanned the area thoroughly, a sense of merriment filling your heart while you observe the shades of green colliding in the small yard. Butterflies scattered around, the variety of plants and how they're trimmed and grown to perfection created a scenery of paradise. Not to mention the elegant fountain in the middle. (You could only chuckle at the thought of your brother gawking at the said piece of art.)

You're currently standing in a garden, the chosen location for the upcoming surprise, waiting for Jungwon to finish his business with the owners. He's the one who found the site in social media, thus, you made him do the honor of negotiating.

It was located in the countryside (2 to 3 hours drive from home), near the beach and the way the wind carries the ocean breeze brings a nice touch of freshness. It's tranquil in here, away from the bustling city and no gossip girls will appear out of nowhere.

You sat down in the wooden bench, taking a sip of your earl grey tea and sighing in contentment. Yeonjun would love it here, you also do think that the place is nice, and if you would be given the chance to choose a location for your own wedding engagement, this will definitely be your top pick.

"That's great! Thank you so much for giving us the spot next Wednesday."

Jungwon's distant jabbering snapped you out of your reverie, turning on your seat only to find him already focused on you, then he made a tiny gesture, telling you to come and meet the owners of the garden. You gave him a blank stare but obliged nonetheless.

You straightened your outfit, walking in his direction and coming face to face with the kind-looking elderly couple who's strangely gazing at you two with mirthful expressions.

"Good afternoon, I'm Y/N and-"

The older lady spoke, her sentence bamboozling you to no end.

"Is this the wife-to-be? Oh my god, she's gorgeous! You have a nice taste young man." she exclaims with a big grin, taking your hand in hers and shaking it vigorously.

"I have to agree with my wife here. You two are lovely together." her husband smiles as well, having the same opinion as his spouse.

"Oh no. Ma'am, sir, we are not- that's not..." you trailed off, awkwardness coursing through your veins and you had to get help from the equally bewildered man beside you, your whole body language begging for him to say something.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, Mr. and Mrs. Shin, but we're not together. It's actually her brother who's going to be engaged soon." Jungwon finally clears the confusion, a perplexed demeanor coming off from the pair.

After a while of explaining, the owners apologized for the misunderstanding, to which you easily accepted and even made a lighthearted joke about it. When everything's been settled, the place booked for next week's agenda and the duo promised to accommodate you to the best of their abilities, it was time to say farewell.

You made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat of Jungwon's car, peeping behind the tinted windows and being intrigued as to what they were discussing on the porch.

Right as you were about to leave, Mrs. Shin pulled Jungwon back to ask him a really important question. He had to usher you to go back first, but your inner detective conan was about to be let out of prison when you saw his scandalized facade just as the old woman whispered in his ears.

You witnessed how his ears turned red, the usual shy mien he had always sported back during highschool making an appearance, his adorable dimples showing when he pursed his lips to stop himself from laughing at what you can assume are ridiculous questions coming from Mrs. Shin.

You're a cat, a curious one at that, so you gaped at him when he entered the vehicle without so much of a word, revving the engine on and driving away.

Jungwon's right eye twitched when the irk of your not so subtle leering at him eventually provoked him to actually start a conversation with you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

You puffed and glared at him, "The only thing that is wrong here is your attitude."

Jungwon visibly seethed through his teeth, gripping the steering wheel tighter, "Y/N." he called your name firmly, and believe it or not, his tone managed to create shivers down your spine. "Speak, we don't have all day."

"Well.." you bit your lip, suddenly embarrassed by your petulant behavior a few seconds ago.

"Well what?" Jungwon urged, momentarily glancing at your feeble figure.

"I was curious about what you were talking about with Mrs. Shin back there." you admitted with a small pout on your lips, evading his deriding eyes as you busied yourself with the enchanting terrains outside.

The sun had begun to set, casting a bright orange color across the skies, painting even the blue water seas with its beauty. A magnificent landscape, but your anxiety obstructs you from enjoying the view.

You heard Jungwon chuckle, and you were about to protest when he reassured you in the calmest way possible, "She was asking regarding Yeonjun hyung and his girlfriend. Nothing for your pretty little head to overthink about."

A certain word caught your attention, rotating your head a bit too fast that you almost had a whiplash, "Pretty? You think I'm pretty? Jungwon?"

He's smart enough to realize that you're doing this to rile him up.

"Y/N, I need you to shut up."

Day 2: Decoration and props

"No, we don't need that." you pinched the bridge of your nose when Jungwon picked up another set of balloons on the shelf, turning a deaf ear to his childish complaints when you rejected another item that he had deemed critical for the party.

"No fair!" he grumbles, pawing the objects in the cart, "All of the things in here are the ones that you've picked! You've never given me a turn to select at least one decor!"

You fight the intrusive necessity to abandon him in the aisle, personally wanting to save your crumbling image as the people around you begin to murmur at the commotion that Jungwon is causing.

"Alright! Alright!" you felt routed, you can never win against his juvenile stubborn personality, always having you at its mercy and if you tried to resist it, an impending doom is bound to happen.

"We'll pick one decoration of your choice, okay?" you showed him your index finger, shoving it into his face to reiterate your point, "Just one."

The way he cheered was akin to that of a child who was allowed by his mother to eat ice cream after winning a spelling bee competition. You shook your head at his antics, slightly laughing at his peppy steps as he sauntered towards the kids' birthday area of the store.

You begrudgingly followed him, grimacing at the item in his hand. You were about to nag the hell out of him, to question him the purpose or importance of some multicolor whistle blowout in a formal event.

But you stopped when you felt a tiny tug on your pants, squealing in delight when you were greeted by the cutest human being on earth.

"Hello little guy." you crouched down to match the child's height, your former frustration melting at the sight of his puffy cheeks and red eyes, probably from crying. "Are you lost?"

The youngster nodded his head a yes, and you couldn't help but coo when he made grabby hands at you, letting you know that he wanted to be carried. And who are you to say no to an angel?

At this time, returning the kid to his parents becomes your priority, "What's your name?" you gently asked the boy in your arms, swinging slightly from side to side in an attempt to further pacify him.

"Sunoo." he murmurs from your shoulders, sniffling and for a moment he gazes at you like he's in some deep thought, then he slapped your cheeks in his chubby hands, "You're young mommy."

You don't know if this is a compliment or not, but you smiled either way, thanking him and you're about to proceed to the security when Jungwon went and made his forgotten presence known again.

Sunoo shrieked when Jungwon blew the damned party horn, the tube unrolling and hitting the child in the face. For a minute you were so tempted to chuck Jungwon into a ditch, getting nervous at the thought of Sunoo crying... thank god he didn't.

The young one liked an element of surprise it seems, clapping his hands excitedly and spurred Jungwon (the child called him young daddy and you nearly gagged) to do it again, to which he did, causing Sunoo to erupt in a fit of giggles.

Something in your heart clenched while you watched the two interact, it was thumping rather loudly in your chest, reminding you of the dead and buried daydreams that you once had.

You'd be lying if you said that you never imagined a family with Jungwon. You'd be fooling yourself if you said that you've never pictured Jungwon as a part of your future.

The future that he said he couldn't see with you.

Rage suddenly shoots in and replaces the melancholic emotions you're in, and Jungwon felt that when your eyes are literally shooting him through his skull. His play time with Sunoo came to a halt, peering at your upset form and he frowned, inquiring if you're okay.

You refrain from meeting his brown orbs, giving only a hum in response and that made Jungwon's frown deeper.

The kid pouts, looking back and forth at the two adults, "Is young mommy and young daddy fighting?"

"No," you answered immediately, "we're not. Everything's fine honey." you tried your best to smile, albeit strained, "How about we find your parents, hm?"

You found the perfect way to escape Jungwon's piercing gaze, leaving him alone with his thoughts. You wouldn't be able to keep up with his interrogation and you'd rather die than be upfront with him.

This is not supposed to bother you. You must remain poised and rational at all times, a reminder that you kept on repeating inside your mind while you escorted the child to the security, having them announce the presence of Sunoo into the intercom.

After a few minutes of waiting, his parents finally arrived, thanking you profusely and as a way to show their gratitude, they happily paid all of your bills in the shop. (Jungwon stayed in the halls, giving the reason of not wanting to leave your cart unattended.)

You bid your goodbyes, promising Sunoo to visit him when you have the time. His mother and father were kind enough to give you their phone number and address, and it was your turn to thank them for giving you the opportunity to see Sunoo whenever you wanted to. They waved it off, saying 'our son was attached to you, he'll surely cry his heart out if he's not able to see you again.'

After the parting, the worst part that you're abstaining from followed, the stillness inside the vehicle was suffocating, and anybody with eyes can clearly tell how palpable the tension is.

You distracted yourself by counting the droplets of rain that fall on the window, listening to the buzzing radio, anything to brush the unsettling vibes aside.

The car went to a halt on the side of the road and you were stupefied at the abrupt break, you turned to reprimand the driver but you noticed that he was doing nothing but to stare ahead of the empty, wet pavement.

"Are you uncomfortable with me?"

He was direct, not fumbling around with his words and it made you hate him. How can he be so brave when it comes to confrontation?

"Let's just go. We're wasting time here."

Sidetracking was what you were best at, and that made Jungwon clench his jaws hard, will you ever change?

"Y/N, answer me." it was a ticking time bomb, the sudden change in your mood a while ago was a big mystery to him, and he'll never lay it off until he learns the reason why.

"Why should I?" you deadpanned, acting clueless to genuinely irritate him.

"Because we're not leaving until you answer me. You have two choices, Y/N." he's motionless, but you weren't, and you're about to do the most clichéd shit out there.

Yes.

You glanced at him for a second, gave him a resentful smile, then you exited out of his car, not paying any mind to Jungwon's shouts for you to come back. You were adamant to trek your way home if it means that you won't have to stay in that asphyxiating conflict.

A yelp escaped you when Jungwon harshly jerked you to cease your movements, your back bumping into his sturdy chest as he held you by the arm.

"Let me go." you demanded, not having the energy to struggle in his grip, you reckon that it'll be useless because Jungwon is much stronger than you. Ain't no way you're squandering your energy over a futile endeavor.

"Is it really that difficult for you to be with me?" he whispers and you've gone frigid, did he really say that with such dejection?

"If you are not comfortable with me, I could tell Yeonjun hyung. You wouldn't have to spend your time with a person that you.. hate."

It physically pained Jungwon to utter that dreadful word, but if it makes you feel better then he would gladly swallow the numbing pill, he won't say it out loud, but your happiness will always be his priority.

And you think you're being selfish, of course, the break-up did not only affect you, it must have damaged him too.

Undeniably, you need to knock some sense into your brain.

"I'm sorry," you shuffled around until you were facing him, "I'm being absurd. I was-" you took a deep breath, "I was reminiscing, okay?"

You didn't have to tell him more, he understands. He always did, even during your darkest times, he was the only one who could bring you out of your emotional shell.

Jungwon held his pinky out, "Tell me when your reminiscing gets too much, I'll give you space. For now, let's be casual, yeah?"

A hint of the corner of your lips quirking up made him feel like a champion, intertwining your pinky with his in a small-scale pledge.

It's thorny for it was not attended for the longest time, but the residual connection can be made as a starting point to fix a rift.

Under the heavy droplets of the heavens, soaking through your shirts, what matters the most in this solemn atmosphere is this: the neverending solidarity to Yeonjun's imminent marriage proposal.

Day 3: Food and catering

You were never a fighter, you have counted yourself as a lover, but right now, your fist itches to land a blow on a random girl's face... a broken nose suits her the most, you think.

She keeps on twirling her hair, her fake high-pitched voice is sickening, and the way she stands is so vexing.

Yeah, you do understand where she's coming from.

Jungwon, for some reason, was all dressed up for today's schedule. An outfit that hugs his lean body exquisitely, dynamic enough to tuck his long-sleeved button up in a black trouser, said sleeves of the button up were rolled up to his elbows. He was no doubt showing off his broad shoulders, rich man arms and slim waist, heck, even his hair is styled flawlessly.

You on the other hand weren't severely outclassed, aware of the fancy catering service that you're visiting. A simple dress and a pair of boots sufficed you, then again, you were never the fashionista in this tandem.

What you're pissed about is an enigma, but you do know that you want to thwack Jungwon in the face too. He eats all the girl's recommendations, and he has the audacity to giggle at every word that she says!

At first, you were ecstatic to test the foods presented to you, as time goes by, you lost interest because the host didn't bother to give you the fucking time of her day, focusing entirely on Jungwon.

Hence, you find yourself sitting in the corner of the room, boring holes into the pair as you nurse your glass of Cheval Blanc 1947.

"Here are our cheese section!" the woman speaks in an unnatural cheerful tone, and you couldn't help but grimace at her dying whale sounds. Just then, Jungwon turns on his heel and beckons for you to come.

"Ah, sadly I'm lactose intolerant. It's okay though, my girlfriend here can taste it for me." he motions in your direction, to where you stand dumbfoundedly at the most shocking news of the day.

He lied and he used the godforsaken title on you.

"Baby? Are you okay?" Jungwon asked, hurrying in your direction while resting his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the long table where the enormous amount of dishes are laid out. He then softly murmurs against your ear, "I'm getting tired of that girl, please help me get rid of her."

You raised a suspicious eyebrow, "Weren't you enjoying the attention from her?"

You almost winced, you sounded like a jealous girlfriend back there, but Jungwon was too appalled to even notice the slip-up.

"The fu- No. I was being polite but one more of her screeching and god, I'd jump off a cliff."

His nauseated visage made you snicker in amusement, yet you acknowledged his scheme and you are ready to bring your inner Julia Roberts out.

"Yep, I'm fine.. baby." you intentionally made your voice louder, adding the bit after a millisecond of self reflection, pressing your body closer to his and boldly landing a palm over his chest, "So, what about the cheese?"

From your peripheral sight, the attendant was obviously fuming at the blatant display of affection. She did well at concealing her rage though, keeping an impassive guise in spite of her clenched fist.

Jungwon grabbed some pieces of the dairy products (no, not by his hands, they are conveniently skewered), inspecting them and as usual, lady whale in clown make-up happily expounds each and every last one of the cheese to him.

He was unfazed by the unsolicited trifling, instead fixing his whole attention on you, his hands clutching yours when he felt your grip on him became tighter at the girl's attempt of flirting with him.

"Here, taste it for me." he prodded you, gently feeding you each cheese, completely disregarding whatever chatter was happening around the room.

The delicious milk excites you, unconsciously doing the dance that you used to do whenever you find a magnificent dish.

Jungwon beams, finding your actions endearing, then it fell down when the attendant who couldn't take a damn hint pitched in some cynical comment towards you.

Oh, he was about to berate her, but you stopped him from doing so, wanting to deal with the mini but pointless battle.

"Miss, may I ask what's your preferred cheese?" you detach yourself from the boy, squaring up to the attendant.

You're about to give her a taste of her own medicine, except you are preparing it to be more bitter than a gosam tea.

She eyed you sassily, feigning a cheerful expression before pointing at the Ricotta.

"I knew you were a basic bitch." a depreciating giggle was heard from you, facing Jungwon and throwing your hands around him which he naturally returned, "Wonnie, we should get the Brie de Meaux."

"Hm? Okay then, we'll order that. We expect everything to be fresh and that it will arrive on time next week." Jungwon utters with finality, his words directed to the food presenter but he did not batted her with any ounce of regard.

You craned your neck, smirking at the aggravated woman.

Sweet victory. Well, it's not like she had any winning odds. She had it coming to her either way, fighting a losing skirmish.

Today's events should've scared you to your wits. The manner in which you and Jungwon held, talked, and looked at each other.. it was too innate. It did not feel like you were putting on a show to make that witch act accordingly.

It's peculiar that the day ended in a carefree manner. Both sides were satisfied and radiant, no bickering and no ill intentions whenever the other had their back undefended.

Maybe the soliloquy under the rain washed the remnants of black smoke and withered petals away, creating a blank canvas that can be painted with the daylight colors of a blossoming friendship.

Yeah, that must be it. Friendship.

Day 4: Flowers

"Red roses are good. Also, please add some white lilies and pink carnations into the roster, she'll love it." you rambled to the florist, but she merely gave you an understanding nod and proceeded to work with your request.

A yawn was heard from the corner of the shop and you suppressed the urge to punch the suspect of the offending sound, you chose the peaceful option of ignoring the person, continuing to mind your own business not until someone broke the silence that you've been enjoying.

"What's taking so long?" he asked, boredom lacing his tone, and that's when you whipped around to give him a warning look.

"Jungwon, picking the perfect flowers takes some time. If you want to go home, then go. No one's stopping you." you sassily replied, gracing him a tight lipped smile in the process.

It irked you even more when he rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you're sure is a snide remark towards you.

He was fine the last few days, so why on earth is he acting like a brat now?

You sighed, rubbing your forehead and pondering some ways to de-stress later. Surely, planning a proposal with your ex-boyfriend is something that you, a sane person, wouldn't do during your free time but here you are.

What was your brother even thinking, sending you with this jerk (which is conveniently his best friend), to help and prepare for the upcoming surprise for his girlfriend. Of course you'd love to do whatever you can for your dear sibling, but this is ruthless.. and plain torture.

While yes, you agreed to your brother's request, days like this where Jungwon is being unbearable made you question your decisions in life.

Just before you go deeper within your thoughts, a handsome man holding a bouquet of your chosen flowers emerged from the back room. He beamed at you, his eyes crinkling adorably and his dimples poked through his cheeks.

"Hello there!" he greeted you with joy, polite but bright and it made you naturally smile as well. Like they say, happiness is a virus that can easily infect anyone.

"Yes, hello uhm.." you trailed off, looking at his name tag, "Soobin?"

"That's me." he giggled and dear lord, were you about to burst at his charming facade, "I'm the floral designer here and I wanna ask if you're okay with this presentation?" he raised an eyebrow, showing you the beautifully arranged bunch of flowers, wrapped in an abaca and tied with a pink ribbon.

"Oh, it's gorgeous! You're great at this." you exclaimed, making the tall man blush, getting shy at your compliment.

"Ah, not really. The flowers are doing most of the work here, which I'm guessing are your favorites?" he scratched the back of his head, gazing at you with a soft smile.

Jungwon on the other hand frowned, like, what the fuck is this exchange of flirting he's seeing?

Not. Fucking. Tolerable.

He stood up from where he was seated, slamming his hand on the counter, effectively startling the two people who were conversing which gave him immense satisfaction.

"That's good enough. We'll take that." he feigned a charming smile, allowing the dent on his cheeks to show as well.

That Soobin guy can go to hell, his height and deep voice (that were a stark contrast to his own traits) do not matter, he's not the only one with dimples here.

You were shocked, surprised, disturbed, all adjectives out there are not enough to describe the bombshell that Jungwon dropped, but you weren't gonna stand there and let him be rude. Right as you were about to tell him off and apologize to Soobin, he managed to leave an impact again.

This time, it's fatal for your poor, weak heart.

"And those aren't her favorites. It's a combination of lilac, purple peonies and white tulips, actually."

You bent your neck to look at him, realizing the small proximity you two are in. He's mere inches away from you. Too close that you're able to see his sharp side profile and inhale the scent that you've tried to desperately forget during the sleepless nights where all you've wanted was to be held by him.

You have forgotten about Soobin by now, the vow that you took, the walls that you've built, everything. The only thing that you care about as of the moment is that Jungwon remembers.

Jungwon still knows the flowers that you wanted for your own wedding.

"Jungwon.." his lowly muttered name from your lips made him aware of his surroundings, noticing how close he was standing next to you, quickly distancing himself so as to not make you uneasy.

"I'm sorry." he cleared his throat, sparing Soobin a glance before making an ungraceful exit from the flower shop. A half-assed excuse of having to do something and that he'll leave the decision to you.

When Jungwon was out of the establishment, you turned to Soobin and shot him an apology as well.

"Nah, it's fine. Seems like I crossed a line." he chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you teasingly afterwards, "He might come off as a passive one but he's actually possessive. That's hot."

You snorted and rolled your eyes, bluffing an expression of indifference and denying whatever the florist was trying to imply.

"He's not a boyfriend?" he asked, listing the order and other details so it'll be delivered on time for the celebration.

"No, not a boyfriend. He's a friend." emphasizing the latter, though it was clear that Soobin wasn't persuaded, given by the knowing smile he sent you.

"If you say so."

You hummed, eyes trailing to the cat-like boy outside, having finished his 'business' and is now leaning against his car, patiently waiting for you.

Having him as a friend is a good thing, yeah, you'll convince yourself that.

Day 5: Engagement ring

"Thank god Yeonjun actually did something for his own wedding proposal." you groaned, threading through the people of the jam-packed mall, spotting the familiar male in front of the jewelry shop that you've been finding for the past five minutes.

You were about to yell at him, but then you noticed he was busy with his phone. He was texting someone, with a small smile.. and dare you say that it was a smitten one.

The world slows down for a while in your perspective, you have to remind yourself that yesterday's ruckus, and the other days before that were nothing but a sham. A mere helping hand and concern for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

You told yourself not to be envious, in fact, it could be his sister or friend or a relative! Yada yada, no, it doesn't really matter even if it's a prospective lover.

Totally none of your business.

You inhaled, gripping your bag rigidly and stiffly walking towards him. Your silhouette must have caught his attention as he hastily closed and hid his phone in his pocket, acknowledging your presence with a tasteless hello.

Today's task is not a laborious one, you just have to check if the engagement ring is done and if it'll fit the finger properly. After that, you can take it back home, give it to Yeonjun so he could sneak it and voila- simple as that.

Entering the shop had your eyes bulging, the prices of the ornaments had you gagged. The fuck you mean an engagement ring can go up to a whopping 2 million won or more?

"These are expensive." you gasped, "Who would've thought that getting married can be this costly?"

"It's a precious gemstone, carved and refined into amelioration. It shows how much one cares about their partner, don't you think so, mademoiselle?" a voice startled you, clutching your chest, the jeweler behind the counter gave you a dazzling, apologetic smile at his suddenness.

"Gosh no, don't get me wrong. They are divine!" you raised your hands up in defense, "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"It's no problem." he laughs it off, placing a velvet red box on the glass counter, leniently opening it and you were blown away at the visuals of what was inside it. "By the way, this is the jewelry that you requested."

You were amazed to say the least. Yeonjun might be an idiot when it comes to art, but you can guess that love does strange things. He chose the perfect ring that his girlfriend will surely love.

"Is this ready to go?" Jungwon asked, startling you for the second time of the day, which was partially your fault because you did forget that he was beside you all this time while you're busy gawking at the trinkets.

He carefully studied the ring, the golden band with a cut of rose quartz on top glistens under the lighting of the establishment, it is truly sublime.

"One last step, monsieur. We have to make sure that it fits, you should try it on our mademoiselle here." the jeweler motioned to you, and you were about to reject him, apprehensive of the idea but you saw Jungwon hold his hand out.

You gaped at the boy, not expecting him to concede right away.

Time ticked by yet he's not showing any signs of trickery, the pressure weighs on your shoulders but you complied, cautiously covering his palm with your own.

It was electrifying, the way his fingers grazed your knuckles and his softened gaze on your skeptical mien. Goosebumps run across your arms, tickling the sentiments that you've locked in a vault as he slides the metal that was supposedly filled with promises on your ring finger.

"Gorgeous." Jungwon breathes, and you'd think that he was pertaining to the jewelry only if you did not miss the elusive starred glance he sent your way.

You surveyed your clasped hands, zooming on the ring and damn it to hell, it's too real to ignore and you're about to make a grave mistake if this continues.

A cough pulled you out of your self-absorbed hallucinations, separating your hand from Jungwon's and swiftly removing the ring on your finger, returning it to its proper place.

"It's excellent, we'll take it." you pretended to be fine, like your heart isn't about to pop out of your chest due to tachycardia that was rightfully caused by the person who is currently cooking you with his heated stare.

The jeweler gave you two a once over, a strange smile on his face before excusing himself and disappearing at the back of the shop, probably to pack the ring.

"What?!" you snapped when he remained steadfast on his staring, not having enough patience at Jungwon's antics anymore, crossing your arms in an unsophisticated stance, ready to drop kick the mixed signal giver.

He cackled at your aggressiveness, patting you on the head, "You're adorable when you're flustered."

He's bad news. He's dissolving your resolve and you think it's funny how he's able to scratch your surface easily.

Have you always been this weak? Or are you delicate only in his company, as if it's second nature to you after being with him for the longest time?

You'll never know and you're dead set on not knowing.

You'd live in this bliss called ignorance if it means that you can carry on with the denial, because there is no fucking way you're regaining the ardor you once held for this dumbass who broke your fragile heart.

You'll blame the bygone familiarity.

Flicking his hand off, you mustered the most arrogant expression you could do, "I was born adorable, Yang."

Day 6: Music

"Your obsession with Taylor Swift is unhealthy."

"And you think that BTS will do the trick?"

Jungwon lets out an affronted wheeze, "Yeonjun-hyung loves BTS."

You side eyed him from your position on the floor, "And his girlfriend's whole anthem is Taylor Swift."

You glared at each other, having a silent clash on which music should be played during the proposal.

"Can't we have a common ground here?" you went over the counter, refilling your empty glass of cheap wine that you found in Jungwon's cabinet and chugging it in one go.

The two of you are currently conceiving the ideal music to be played during the actual proposal in his flat's kitchen. It's 7 PM, he invited you over, you accepted, and now you're giving each other shit for the difference in music taste.

You understand the assignment. It should be romantic enough that it'll set the mood, love will fill the air and possibly make the girlfriend cry. Thus, you recommended a song that fits the occasion, yet your nemesis begged to differ.

Jungwon clicked away on his laptop, scouring through youtube but it 'coincidentally' ends up in the same audio that he's been fighting for.

"Open your ears and listen, Euphoria is the real deal here." he sassed, and you couldn't help but scrutinize him, making your way over to him and tapping on his keyboard aggressively.

"Daylight is what we're looking for, buddy." you played the song, making Jungwon groan in distaste.

He was yapping about how picturesque the celebration would be if Euphoria echoes in the background while Yeonjun goes on one knee, professing his undying commitment to the love of his life.

You put a hand under your chin, pondering over the concept, then a light bulb went off.

You slapped Jungwon on the back, shrugging his pained mewls off and telling him the great idea that you got. He was tentative at first, but he still did it when you threatened him that you'll eat his last stored curry if he didn't do your request.

Finally, a mash-up of two love songs in piano versions was made.

You listened to it, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the back at your once in a blue moon stroke of genius.

Euphoria is a good option during the actual proposal, but what about after it?

Slow dancing under the fairy lights, foreheads touching with lovesick smiles, knowing that you're on the road to forever with your soulmate is equal to Daylight.

"If we're talking about a slow dance then Serendipity would do the job." Jungwon intercepts, emotionless at the compromise that you made.

With your hands on your hips, you started chiding him for the unsought disrespect, "Boohoo, if you tried dancing to this then maybe you'll realize how amazing this is."

You shrieked when you were suddenly whisked to your spot, landing in the middle of the kitchen as Jungwon stands in front of you with an unwavering determination.

"Show me then maybe I'll understand your point." he mumbles, then you pause, is he actually telling you to dance with him? Right now? In his kitchen?

This is so random and ridiculous. What made him think that you'd do such a thing just to get your intention across a river of crocodiles to him.

"I don't have to do that!" you whined, glowering at him, crossing your arms in disdain.

You don't know what kind of evil spirit possessed him to act like this, but you don't like it. Simply because it's making you incredibly perturbed.

"I won't settle for Daylight then."

And like fate is by your side, the lights in his kitchen, without notice, sparked and then poof! Gone.

It was pitch black, and you'd think that this is the divine intervention that you needed to flee the nerve wrecking condition he's put you through.

You heard Jungwon cuss, sputtering some 'Jay-hyung' and 'fixed it my ass' before ordering you to stay right where you are.

Some shuffling was heard, you'd be astounded at how he's navigating in this blackout but you gathered that he'd probably memorized the layout of his own house by heart.

All of a sudden, the classical melody of Daylight plays loudly on his gigantic speakers, then a dim yellow light covers a small area to illuminate.

Mr. Smartpants used the refrigerator to cast a glow in the darkness, and now he is right there, situated right where he used to be, meeting you face to face and you're lost.

Lost in his eyes, in the way he saunters to you, his palms landing on your waist as he begins to move in sync with the velvety melody.

He speaks in the softest decibel you've ever heard, feathery touches scorched you despite the clothes that separate the tiny space between his hand and your skin.

"Show me, Y/N, and I'll believe you."

You could've pushed him away, but no, you just had to hold onto his broad shoulders, letting him swing you back and forth, delicately following the rhythm of the music in accordance to the beating of your heart.

The lyrics got stuck in your head when you dared to peek at him through your eyelashes, the truth dawning on you— Yang Jungwon is your daylight.

He was intertwined with you by destiny itself. Your black and white cinematics became golden when he entered your story.

Why did it have to go all wrong instead of the one that you prayed for?

"Y/N," Jungwon hushed, "you have no idea of how much I've missed you."

Each word was heavily punctuated with a certain yearning, and it may be the intimacy of the atmosphere or your unholy alcohol consumption, but you suddenly have this desire to cradle his face.

So you gave in to it. You only live once, so why not make the most of it when an opportune moment appears.

"Did you really?" he leaned into your touch, dangerously close yet you paid no heed to the warnings, choosing to relish in his warmth.

He mirrored your smile, dimples poking through his cheeks, and you're unable to refrain yourself from poking it. Fingers gliding on his smooth skin, digging on the inherent dent that the angels sculpted and gifted him with.

His arms are now fully wrapped around your waist, the tip of your noses tickling each other, his hot breath blows over your dry lips every time he exhales, a contrast to the icy ventilation generated from the opened refrigerator.

"I did. So fucking much that I asked your brother to set us up."

What did he do?

You dropped your arms to your sides, appalled at his confession, forcing you to move back from him, creating a minimal margin with furrowed brows, "What do you mean by that?"

He held you back, securing you in his arms because there's no way he's letting you go like he did before. No more blunders that he'll inevitably repent at a later date.

"My love, please, hear me out." it was his turn to cup your face, dropping all formalities and going back to the endearment that he used to call you.

When you didn't answer, he took that as a cue to continue, "You broke up with me through text, you avoided me, and I.. I thought it was done. That it really was the best for us to separate ways. I thought moving on would be the best option, but it wasn't. I went to a whole other city to forget you, but even there you followed me."

You were breathing rapidly, trying to cope up with the information that he was spilling, you opened your mouth, barely managing to utter a single question, "How come?"

"Because you are here," he grasped your hand, guiding it to his temple, "here," to his chest, "everywhere really." finally bringing your hand up to peck the back of it.

"Everything that I see there reminds me of you.. of us, but I endured the pain of living without you until I saw a photo of you with a guy on your social media." he chuckles, murmuring against your skin, "That shit got my head spinning and I knew I had to get you back."

In a flash, you were outraged, hearing his impulsive decision rooted from his ugly green monster. Your memories have been refreshed, the dead case now reopened from the grave. How dare he decide that he'll walk in your life again after the bullshit that he had carelessly spat.

"Wow! The audacity that you have." you mused, completely disengaging yourself from him in spite of the aching protests of your consciousness to stay still in his arms, "After telling people that you don't see a future with me? Now, you want me back?"

Your over the top 'Ha!' at the end of your sentence had Jungwon reeling in anger. Here you go again, acting out the stubborn lioness made out of sheep's wool.

He took slow but gnarly steps towards you, his eyes that held daggers pierced through your soul and that unlocked a new fear within you, causing you to take your own steps backwards. The cycle went on, until your back hit the counter.

You cursed at the deities of fortune for their inadequacy at today's chapter of 'Y/N escaping confrontation with Jungwon part 2.'

"You never let me unravel whatever shit you're thinking or hearing." Jungwon sneers with steady footsteps, and you had the conviction to stare right into his own orbs only to be thrown into the rabbit hole.

There he was, treacherous vibe and clenched fists but all you could distinguish are his porcelain features and glassy eyes. Never had you ever thought that anyone would look divine with only a somber gleam and shadows casted over their face.

Yang Jungwon had a great ability of proving your theories erroneous.

Finally, he towers over you, caging you with his hefty and sullen stature, "You didn’t hear the full conversation and you're quick to judge."

You gulped in anticipation, closing your eyes shut while gripping the marbled countertop and bracing yourself for the wave that will crash upon you.

"Y/N, I do not imagine you in my future." that stings, that shit hurts to the point that tears begin welling up, then your eyes are wide open at his next words, "You are not in my future because you are the future. My future. Do you get it? I don't imagine. I, indubitably, want you to be at the center of it all."

He speaks nothing but the truth. Seriously, what is the point of all this if at the end of his sail in the sea, he doesn't have the reason why he even went on the journey beforehand.

You are stupid, you think, willing yourself not to cry at your own ignorance.

Two things were validated: you are a very bad eavesdropper and an even worse decision-maker.

"W-won..I ruined everything we had, didn’t I?" you sniffed, lowering your head in shame.

"Baby, my flower," Jungwon whispers, hugging you tightly before tilting your chin so you're able to look at him again, "don't cry. Shh, it's okay."

"How can you sa- hmpf!" your sentence was cut short when a pair of lips went and shut you up.

It was a searing and soulful kiss, more than sufficient to convey the flickering love that kept on shining even during the seasons of yearning and ache.

It was the assurance that you needed, that you are and will always be forgiven despite the conflicts that you've caused. All is well, all is fine because as far as Jungwon is concerned, it's okay if the mess turned out to be an arson you orchestrated.

People might brand him as the batshit crazy kid in town, but he couldn't care less. You are his mess and he is your crazy. Thus, he will gladly burn for you if it means that his ashes will stick on you like a tattoo.

You unintentionally moaned when Jungwon bit your lower lip, aggressively shoving his tongue down your throat as he hoisted you up on the counter. His hands went to your exposed thighs, courtesy of you wearing shorts, while yours landed on his tuft of silky hair.

He situated himself in between your legs, tracing lines on your thigh and in stupor, you vaguely made out the 'mine' and a mini heart he drew beside it... or that may be your imagination taking a toll on you since his ministrations are definitely making you intoxicated.

Jungwon explored your mouth like a hungry beast, swiping over your gums, your teeth. It was a temporary fight for dominance, to which you gave in easily, allowing him to massage your own tongue in his.

He momentarily pulled away for oxygen, instructing you to stick your tongue out, and he managed to elicit another moan from you when he sucked on it, a sensual exchange of saliva occuring, causing you to tug on his hair.

A groan escaped from him, kissing you some more before detaching himself on your bruised lips, opting to slide his head down the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and smooching all over that had you giggling.

He smiles against your skin, mumbling something that kind of sounds like 'Gosh, I love hearing you laugh.'

It was such a sweet moment, then the man went wild. Licking up a stripe just below your ears, lightly nibbling on your lobe to make you squeal before dipping his head in your clavicle, sinking his teeth on your collarbone before soothing it with a kiss. He then kicked it up a notch, skidding your shirt on your left shoulder to uncover more of your skin for him to feast on.

He trailed kisses on your shoulder, up to your weak spot until he decided to bite and suck on it, making you gasp in pleasure. You whimpered his name, which basically egged him to paint you more in purple, marking you as his.

Jungwon's hands can't stay in place, roaming around your body until it slips inside your oversized shirt. His calloused palms set your skin ablaze as it snaked over your bra-clad breast, palming it for a while before moving towards your back, unclasping your under garment and removing it expertly out of your shirt.

His hand groped your chest, the other one almost ripped your shirt in a haste to reveal the upper fats of your mound, his mouth immediately attaching on it to suck some more hickeys.

You were getting antsy in your position, wiggling and moving around to find some friction due to your growing needs. One that was found on Jungwon's jeans, pressing your lower half on his in a desperate attempt for relief.

"Fuck, baby." Jungwon cursed when you grinded on his clothed hard-on, his heavy panting covering the expanse of the room, "If you continue doing that, I won't be able to control myself anymore."

Your hooded eyes made contact with his dark ones, then you made a conclusion, pulling him in for a few seconds of make-out session.

"Don't control yourself then, Wonnie. I'm yours."

His smirk tells you that you don’t have to say anything anymore, swooping you off the counter princess-style, "I'll show you what it means to be mine, then."

Day 7: Finalization

It was safe to say that Jungwon was losing his mind throughout this ordeal.

He was set to wake up with you by his side, but to his dismay, no trace of you were left the next morning after your.. eventful night.

Jungwon was so sure that he'll straighten things up with you.

He already made a promise that he'll take care of you, that he'll love you more than he used to. He clarified your misunderstanding, reassuring you that communication will be the key this time around.

All those honeyed and candid pillow talk for this tomfoolery to happen?

Jungwon is not known for bragging but heck, you were, without a doubt, sent to heaven back on earth when he showed you how much he misses, loves, and owns you.

So where the fuck are you and why did you leave him alone and cold in his bed?

You didn't block him per se, his messages and calls going through but he did realize that you're actively avoiding him again.

This is literally making his blood boil, add to that the piling stress of overseeing the venue and other things for the proposal tomorrow alone.

"Jungwon!"

Well no, technically he's not alone. Yeonjun graciously called another friend to assist him during your unexcused absence. (He was being dramatic because you're not here with him.)

"What!?" he snapped, looking at the shocked but amused older male.

"Damn, did someone spit in your coffee today?" the man cackled, nudging Jungwon with a teasing grin.

"I'll spit on you if you don't drop it." Jungwon scowled, not in the mood to play around, "What do you need, Jay-hyung?"

The American smirked, biting his lower lip to withhold himself from tittering and possibly further annoying the moody sheep, "The workers are asking where to put the cut outs. They need instructions."

Jungwon groaned, that was meant to be your job!

"Okay, I'll go there." he says, stomping his way into the middle of the garden, and if you look closely, you'll be able to see the popping veins in his forehead and the fuming smoke coming out his ears.

Jay shook his head, truly, you have no idea how much you affect Jungwon, don't you?

D-day

Jungwon was 100% sure that you wouldn't attend, but then you got him flabbergasted when you appeared in your splendid glory.

Oh, what a gem you are. Your make-up and hair are elegantly done, and he thinks you're taunting him when you wore that godforsaken backless blue dress that you hauntingly paired with black pumps.

That night, he was certain you were shunning him away for whatever reason you have... and he's going to uncover you.

Jungwon was basically a walking thundercloud in there, but thankfully, the celebration and proposal went on without a hitch.

It was an enchanting scenario, the way Yeonjun dropped on one knee, professing a lifetime of a home filled with happiness and prosperity. It made you tear up, especially when his girlfriend said yes, their genuine smiles and love touching you to no end.

Then a minute speech ensued, the couple appreciating everyone who was with them throughout their relationship, a special shout out for those who helped Yeonjun with the proposal, which included you and the name you don't wanna hear.

His girlfriend suddenly cleared her throat, announcing an unusual tradition that she wanted to do for a while now, "I know this is done during the wedding but I want to do this uniquely."

She then walked up to you, thrusting the bouquet in your hands, "I love you like you're my own sister. Y/N, I want you to be happy too, to get married someday. I know that you'll find the right man soon."

You gripped the bundle of flowers with resentment. You're drowning in the flood of doubts but you still managed to thank her with a small smile. She merely gave you a cheeky wink, returning to her former spot and throwing herself in your brother's arms.

The gathering continued, visitors dancing, eating and drinking while you stood there at the side, contemplating whether to join in on the fun or be the kill joy of the day.

A rookie mistake that you did though was when you looked up, directly staring into the chocolate orbs of the man that you recently gave your purity to, only for him to drop it on the floor to watch it shatter into pieces.

You hated yourself for giving in, but you hated it more when your heart rate sped up at the meager eye contact with him. You hated the fact that the world seemed to cease its rotation when you're hit with the reality that you're in his presence.

Your vision might have gone bad because how come that he's the only thing that you could emphasize on while the others are nothing but bleary images.

This is incorrect, an imprecision. it made you sick to your stomach when his dimples revealed themselves, much so when you were compelled to kiss it.

You had to get out of here and take a breather.

Thus, you find yourself standing in front of a pond, back in some alley in the garden. Good thing that the venue is spacious, having this kind of area as a getaway car from the rambunctious spell that the gods have cast upon you.

"You should join a marathon for being such a good runner." a sarcastic voice had your body stone cold, anxiety enveloping your whole being at the looming adversary that you have to face.

"Thank you for the advice that I won't engage in." you tried to sound strong, but your voice box failed you when your sentence came out meek and shaky.

Jungwon chortled at the ridiculousness of the situation. He finds it funny how the progress went from 0 to 100 then back to 0.

"What are you laughing about?" you lifted an eyebrow, cautiously peering at his abrupt change in mood.

"You." he mutters, gnashing his teeth while he eyed you incredulously, "You're a whole circus, from giving me false hope to stepping all over my heart. Real clown right here."

That made you scoff, bewildered at his rude attitude, accusing you of these things when in your perspective, he was the one playing games all along.

"Aren't you aware that you are the embodiment of a personified clown?" you're an erupting volcano, and you couldn't hold it back anymore, "I trusted you! Then I wake up in the middle of the night, see a text message on your phone from an unknown number saying that your baby misses you."

Jungwon opened his mouth to speak, but no, you weren't done yet. This film is something you have seen before, except tonight, it's not through a cowardly text message, you'll say it directly to him.

"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."

A moment of silence. Then Jungwon gave you a bittersweet smile, turning around so you're now facing his back.

"Mrs. Shin asked me if I was lying to her about us not being together. She said that the way I looked at you was comparable to a devotee, like you are the reason for my being."

What? What is he talking about?

"When you were doting on Sunoo, you recall that kid back at the mall? Yeah him, I had this epiphany of you being my wife, the mother of my children."

This isn't the answer that you've been looking for, but it has you stunned to the core.

"That flower guy was annoying. His dimples got me jealous, got me carried away. When you acted as my girlfriend to fend off that presenter, I wished it was true. Then I couldn't shake the butterflies in my stomach when I put that ring on you. And during the fateful night, I really thought we had something going on there."

Jungwon's shoulder shook, his head moving upwards as an attempt to dry the moisture away. If this is how it's ending, then he'd let you go. But not after spilling his endless rumination and sentiments for you.

When you broke up with him, it felt like he was dying. He was an empty shell without you. He hated you for not giving him the chance to explain himself, but he hated himself more when he gave up and moved away to cover up his wounds.

Then he saw an opportunity to be with you again, and so, he begged Yeonjun to help him, but his efforts were all in vain, it seems.

"Y/N, I dreamt of you in a white gown, walking down the aisle of the red carpet. I've always prayed for you to be my endgame. But if I really don't have a chance with you anymore, then I'll bury all those dreams away."

He finished, letting the stream out, tired of holding it back. Tired of fighting a losing battle. He'll leave your life for good, heavy footsteps crackling under the pebbles. Then he stopped, "By the way, that message you saw was from my sister's new number. And the baby that was mentioned was my dog."

If there's an award for the best lunatic out there, it must be given to you. An amateur snooper that knows nothing but to misinterpret people.

You gulped and made a run for it, throwing the bouquet that you are still holding to fully embrace Jungwon from the back, burying your face in his expensive cashmere suit.

"The chance never left, Jungwon." you muttered softly, hugging him tighter to prevent him from leaving, "It never left, and it wants you to stay."

Jungwon lets out a weak laugh, "If you're doing this out of pity t-"

"No!" you cried out, because you're tired as well. Tired of hiding things from him, for foolishly keeping it all in when you could've talked it out.

You poured the stashed secrets. From the handmade paper ring that you were about to give him when you heard him in the student council room. to how you're afraid that college life might bring a fissure in your relationship, so you wanted to give him something that'll remind him of you and your love.

You told him that you cannot see a future without him, so you prematurely went into a heartbreak episode when you misunderstood his words. Every fault is a series of your insecurities and skepticism of a happy ending with him.

You confessed to him that you have always loved him, that your heart still belongs to him. You're just a plain idiot that couldn't communicate well but you swear, he's the only one that you'd choose in a room full of other men.

You spewed out promises of telling him whenever you're overthinking or overfeeling things. That you wouldn't get ahead of yourself next time, that you'd trust him more.

Your wrongdoings are not to be tolerated, but you'd do your best to make it up to him.

Jungwon finally turns around, his dried tear stains on his cheeks pains you, yet he's a sweetheart, wiping your own salty tears in lieu of his.

"The paper ring." he mumbles while bolstering your cheeks on his palms in a silly manner, pressing his forehead on yours, "Make me that paper ring again, this time give it to me."

You nod with the full intent of handing him the gift with the oath of staying by his side until you have both achieved your dreams and aspirations in life.

Pinky promises are mainstream, adorable yes, but the best is sealing a promise with a kiss.

The buzzing noise of the party in the garden turned into white noise, the focal point is on the subject of your affection. The man who is currently kissing you under the stars.

There is this one term that you read once, ‘Ephemeral.’

It was a pretty word, but its meaning is sorrowful.

Yet with Jungwon, seeing the silver lining of the word is easier than studying for an exam.

The pain, arguments, hugs, kisses, and life itself is short-lived. Fleeting memories forgotten when you’re gray and old. Still, that gives you more reason to rejoice the moments as much as you can.

Besides, if Yang Jungwon is by your side, then every ephemeral will last perpetually.

taglist

@yzzyhee @maymarrylhs @dreamiestay @moon4moony @vixensss @star4rin @heelee-01 @ramenoil @lilyuwon

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